Lysander's office, draped in the finest silks and dimly lit by antique lanterns, was where he conducted the business of both worlds. As you uncovered a hidden passage behind a bookshelf, you stumbled upon a chamber filled with portraits of his past wives, each more beautiful and sad-eyed than the last. The air was thick with the scent of old books and a hint of iron. A soft murmur of a distant conversation was all that broke the silence, until a cold draft announced his arrival.

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