The Golden Visit
Act I Nazario Naranjo’s boots struck the grated floor of the antechamber, the metal ringing under the weight of his decade of service and the crushing fear that sat in his gut like a stone. He stood rigid, his hand trembling not from cold but from the sight of Elías, his twelve-year-old son, held by the Duke’s men in the corner, the boy’s face a mask of terror that mirrored Nazario’s own. The...
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