The green wax seal on the linen envelope inside the hollowed-out volume of Viollet-le-Duc was an unmistakable signature. Stamped into the hardened wax was the stylized cursive initial *J*—the personal wax seal that Julian Vance had carried on his pocket watch chain throughout their fellowship in Paris. Claire’s gloved hands hovered over the envelope, her pulse hammering against her eardrums. Beside her, Nathan leaned over the desk, his face set…
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