A man in a wet wool coat stumbled into the shop, clutching a leather satchel. His name was Elio Vane, and he was a traveling archivist—someone who collected forgotten things: abandoned letters, lost photographs, unclaimed heirlooms. He held up a small, tarnished locket.

or special evening occasions due to its decadent and sexy dry down.

“Pass what on?” Shaaneia whispered.