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The night had finally arrived, and Leonard Falck paced in the study, the tension lining his features as he turned to Mr. Lorentz, the ever-dutiful butler. “Lorentz,” Leonard said with a weary sigh, “fetch one of my finest suits for Allvar. Tonight, he must look impeccable.”

“Yes, sir.” Mr. Lorentz inclined his head and disappeared down the hall. When he returned, he was holding an exquisite midnight-blue suit with subtle silver-thread embroidery along the lapels—a garment that spoke of prestige and silent power. He stepped into Allvar’s room, where the young man sat on the edge of his bed, gaze distant.

“Allvar,” Mr. Lorentz said, laying the suit carefully on the velvet armchair. “Here is what your father requested you to wear.”

Allvar’s eyes flicked to the suit, then to Mr. Lorentz. “Thank you,” he muttered, reaching out to touch the fine fabric, but his hand froze midway when the butler’s expression softened with concern.

“It’s not my place, Master Allvar,” Mr. Lorentz began, fo
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