Or: Mr. Bojnokopff`s Purple Hat.
This is what nefarious charlatans who make devil’s deals for true magic (that always backfire and involve a twirled mustache) smell like.

Lavender and bittersweet chocolate on a cedarwood stage lit with vetiver gaslight, and lasts longer on silk than on skin.

I always fall head over heels for an elegant villain.

So the story behind this one is of an illusionist in 1897, Russia, the same year of Rachmaninoff’s disastrous debut of his first symphony.  It opens with some serious mustache twisting.