Share a bottle with a junior under-butler

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From: Below stairs

A cup or two of '82 will set the tongue a-wagging.

Unlocked with 12 x Bottle of Greyfields 1882


A heartfelt toast

[…] the under-butler loosens his cravat. He raises his cup. "To her Majesty! May the poor soul find a measure of consolation." Then, just before he drains the cup, you hear a mutter. "And may she live forever, or we're all gone to our graves."

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