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... had been worn down over the years and seemed halfway to becoming a relic. Inside, a faint murmur seeped from the old coachman’s lead.

"I just can’t understand," muttered Viscount Thorburn, staring vacantly at the letter in his hands. He had read it numerous times, yet questions still lingered.

"The Platinum Council, of all things. Who would have thought they’d revive that lost tradition now?"

"Has the Marquis gone senile? Maybe he’s just playing around, trying to confirm ...

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