ANR Ch 9

“Why did you come out without a coat in this rain? You’ll catch a cold.”

Claude’s stubborn amber eyes turned towards Yves’s wet hair.

“I told you not to come, but you really don’t listen until you die. What have you been doing up so late without sleep?”

“I had nightmares, so I couldn’t sleep well.”

“Even so, there was no need to come here, was there?”

Claude gave an awkward smile as if he had nothing to say. He then quietly led the horse to stand before Yves.

“If both of us ride, this horse won’t be able to run properly. So, it might take some time to get to the mansion, but is that okay with you?”

How could he complain about that? Yves nodded immediately.

“Please, get on first.”

Yves mounted the brown horse he had gifted. Even the lion crest on the saddle was drooping from the rain. As Claude mounted behind him, Yves naturally found himself enveloped in his arms, holding the reins.

The intelligent brown horse began to trot slowly with both on board. Claude guided the horse through the muddy water and damp forest, looking at the moon that was half-hidden. Yves swayed weakly in his embrace, feeling warm and sleepy from the shared body heat.

“You can lean back if you want.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yves leaned his back against Claude’s solid chest and rested his head on his broad shoulders.

“You look very tired.”

Claude’s voice came through the wind.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired.”

“You can sleep. I won’t let you fall.”

At that, Yves laughed inwardly. He was always unnecessarily serious at the most absurd times. Even his nagging and objections to orders, his intrusions into his personal space causing annoyances, had become familiar. He followed him excessively, sometimes overly loyal.

There’s nothing wrong with that, I suppose.

Yves closed his eyes.

“When we arrive, you can stay at the mansion overnight. It’s too far to go back. I’ll send someone to convey a message to your family in the morning.”

“Thank you. I’ll do that then.”

Surprisingly, instead of stubbornly refusing and heading home, he accepted immediately.

The dawn was breaking. The horse, accustomed to the weight, started to pick up speed gradually. The two headed towards the mansion in Nanterre under the last sliver of the moon’s light.

At the grand Romanesque column entrance, the horse, tired from the rain, neighed. The butler, startled by the sound, rushed out in his nightclothes to lead them inside. As the large door creaked shut, the eerie hallway of the mansion was illuminated by the lamplight.

“Give the room on the third floor to Sergeant Veil. Bring him clothes to change into and something to dry himself off.”

“Yes, understood.”

After giving instructions to the butler, Yves looked at Claude.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask him. You can stay as long as you want to rest since there’s no particular schedule tomorrow.”

Then, dripping with rainwater, he headed to his room.

Yves changed out of his wet clothes and stepped out onto the terrace of the drawing room. He inhaled the fresh morning air while listening to the gradually subsiding rain. His body was too tense to sleep despite his fatigue.

Leaving the terrace door open, he returned to the drawing room, sat on the sofa with a glass of wine, and looked outside. Listening to the rain from a safe place felt rather pleasant. Then, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

It was Claude standing behind the door.

“I thought you might still be awake, so I came to keep you company.”

He was giving a strange excuse.

They had already parted with goodbyes, but here he was, with a look of lingering attachment, seeking out his room again. Like a dog that couldn’t bear to be away from its master even for a moment. A dog that wags its tail for more affection no matter how much love you give. In such cases, there are typically two solutions: kick it away or give it a little more hug.

Yves nodded and gestured to the seat beside him.

“Come, sit here.”

Claude approached as if he had been waiting for this. His gaze was on the wine glass in Yves’s left hand.

“Ah, I thought drinking might help me sleep. Strangely, my mind feels even more cluttered since I got home. Anyway, please sit down. I hate looking up at you.”

“Sorry about that.”

Claude sat beside Yves. He had also changed into dry clothes. His wet hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, and he wore an elegant silk shirt that he wouldn’t normally get to see, looking quite handsome. He could pass for a nobleman to take around.

“It suits you.”

Yves raised his glass, pointing at Claude’s attire. He looked down at his clothes upon receiving the compliment.

“Actually, it’s a bit tight.”

He showed off his sleeves where his wrists were exposed. It seemed the butler’s clothes didn’t fit well due to his large frame and broad shoulders. Especially the shirt, which couldn’t be fully buttoned, exposing his chest.

Yves had always thought he had a fine physique. He must have had many women following him. With his serious and caring nature, he would have made a good lover.

Come to think of it, had he mentioned having someone in his life? For the first time, he became curious about his personal life.

“Was the party you were invited to enjoyable? Since you told me to stay behind, it must have been a special gathering.”

Claude brought Yves back to reality from his introspection. At his question, Yves gave a twisted smile and took a sip of wine.

“Indeed, it was quite a special occasion.”

“Do you plan to attend frequently?”

“Probably.”

With that answer, Yves leaned back on the sofa, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. The wallpaper, blue with clouds painted on it, looked like the night sky in the moonlight from the terrace. Feeling more at ease due to the alcohol, he relaxed.

Claude kept asking questions, and Yves answered without much thought, leading to non-stop conversation through the night. Claude asked about Yves’s childhood and even about his first love.

“First love… Well, I’m not sure if it can be called first love, but there was someone who made me realize I was attracted to men.”

At this, Claude’s eyes flickered with complexity.

“It was the son of my nanny. One day, he suddenly returned to Paris and asked to live with us. He was a handsome man with many secrets. Turns out, he had an affair with my sister. Later, it was revealed he was one of Napoleon’s young soldiers, and he was chased away by my father.”

“So, did you give up? You must not have even confessed.”

At this, Yves looked at Claude with a refreshing laugh.

“Confess? Ha ha, usually, when you confess to feeling lust for another man, you should be prepared to get shot. You surprise me. I didn’t know you were someone without prejudices?”

“The whole city is becoming less prejudiced.”

“Ah, yes, that’s why I like Paris.”

Yves casually enjoyed himself alone.

“Then, have you never experienced romance?”

At the word ‘romance,’ one of Yves’s eyebrows lifted. It was such an unfamiliar word, heard so rarely that he had to repeat its meaning in his mind.

“Hmm… As you know, nobles aren’t given much freedom in choosing a spouse. So, it’s not quite right to call meeting a marriage partner romance. In that sense, I suppose I haven’t.”

His tone suggested he hadn’t thought about it much before.

“Did you have an arranged marriage partner, Captain?”

“There’s been talk, but nothing’s been set in stone yet.”

“I see.”

Suddenly, his mouth became heavy as if all questions had been exhausted. Observing Claude staring out into the rainy night, Yves leaned forward again. This time, Yves began to observe him.

“You’re acting strange today, Lieutenant. You look a bit different than usual. Did something unpleasant happen before you came to see me?”

“Does it seem that way?”

“Yes, it does. Are you troubled about something?”

“And what are you troubled about, Captain?”

In response to the returned question, Yves took a sip of wine and smirked.

“Ah, I think about a lot of things.”

Country and people. Freedom and order. Power and fraternity, peace and struggle. He wanted to say he fought for these values like some kind of pioneer, but that wasn’t the truth. If they knew the real reason, they might laugh at him. They would say, “You’re wasting your life for such reasons?”

But isn’t that how humans are? We are not such sacred beings. Everyone moves for their personal advancement, and society evolves and matures whenever that coincidentally benefits the public. That’s why Yves always looked for the cause of revolutions there. That’s why they succeeded and, for the same reason, why they failed.

“Ah, so… for example, where should I go to have fun tomorrow? I worry about things like that.”

Yves tapped his temple with a long finger, laughing it off.

Claude seemed displeased with that answer, his gaze lowering as he paused.

“You promised not to lie to me.”

“It’s not a lie. Do you doubt me?”

“No. It’s just that you don’t look happy.”

Quite perceptive.

Yves swallowed that thought. Sometimes, he felt like Claude could see right through him. From the incident at Brugnon, there were moments when he felt everything had been exposed to him. In fact, that wasn’t so bad. At least, knowing there was one person who didn’t look at him with disgust was somewhat comforting.

“How’s the injury? I’m worried that you might have overdone it today.”

Yves tried to change the subject to distance himself from his own concerns.

“It’s just a bit sore.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’m glad you’re worried about me.”

At that, Yves glanced at Claude. He had been attributing significance to Yves’s casual words and his expression changed easily. Because of that, Yves started to feel a strange sensation. He naturally arrived at a question.

So, why did he come to pick me up in this rain?

“I woke up from a nightmare and couldn’t fall back asleep. So, I just wanted to come pick you up.”

“But I could have already left. What would you have done then?”

“I would have gone to your house to make sure you got back safely, then returned to my own.”

“Ha ha, impressive. You’re ready to give your life for me.”

“If that’s what you want.”

For a moment, the dawn air around them froze. Yves’s blue eyes, now hardened, looked at Claude. It was meant to be a light jest, but was his response sincere, or was it just his imagination?

“Absolute obedience to a superior’s orders is the first rule of the French Army.”

Even with Claude’s additional explanation, Yves didn’t relax his expression. The pleasant conversation broke off, and silence began to fill the room.

Indeed, the feeling of something being off wasn’t just Yves’s imagination. Recently, every time their eyes met, Claude’s gaze seemed to burn through him, and his actions were suspicious. A few days ago, he had entered Yves’s bedroom without permission, touching his hair and neck. Yves had thought it was just a dog wagging its tail for its master, but now it looked like he might climb on top of him and start rubbing any moment.

Moreover, all the questions Claude asked today were about Yves’s personal life. First love, romance, and marriage. Who would be this curious about their superior’s private affairs?

Could it be…

Yves furrowed his brows and turned his head towards the terrace. The garden trees, wet from the drizzle, were silent in the dawn’s darkness. The quiet, dark air settled on the ground, adding to the eerie atmosphere. With his gaze fixed into that darkness, Yves set down his wine glass.

Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s not the first time someone has shown such intense interest. Let him do as he pleases. He’ll tire himself out and fall away soon enough.

‘Jule, don’t fall in love.’

It was as if he could hear the wind. Two hazel trees, extending from his sister’s grave, had deeply rooted themselves into the ground.

Another fool here, I see.

Yves closed his eyes, looking tired.

Claude watched Yves, who had fallen asleep leaning against the armrest of the sofa, without moving for a long time. He was still following the last order Yves had given before falling asleep. When he tried to leave the sofa to give him space, Yves spoke without even opening his eyes:

‘Forget it, just stay beside me.’

That was quite some time ago. Only Yves’s breathing filled the quiet room. His golden hair, once wet, had now dried and fallen over his eyes, and his lips, wet with wine, were slightly parted.

Claude’s gaze couldn’t leave him. He had been watching his lips for an hour now but didn’t touch or do anything presumptuous. He just stayed beside him. Meanwhile, the sun rose, and the day brightened.

Finally, Claude stood up. He gently lifted his sleeping superior, supporting his head with his arm, and carried him to the bedroom. After laying him on the soft bed, he drew the curtains to block the incoming sunlight. Lastly, he kissed the back of Yves’s hand briefly.

“Fais de beaux rêves.” (Have beautiful dreams.)

Then, without hesitation, he turned and left.

Since early morning, Michel had been restless, moving between the kitchen and the dining room. He was excited after hearing from the chef that a guest had come. According to him, the person who had brought the captain home late last night was sleeping in the guest room on the third floor, and Michel thought it must be Sergeant Veil.

Both had come in soaked from the rain. The chef, worried about them catching a cold, made a chicken soup. A simple breakfast was prepared with bread, olive oil, and salted cabbage.

“Take it carefully. I’ve filled the soup to the brim, so don’t shake it.”

“Don’t worry, Pierre.”

Michel carefully carried the tray with Veil’s meal up to the third floor. The mansion’s residents had finished their breakfast two hours earlier, and the captain was still asleep. Thanks to that, Michel could serve breakfast to Sergeant Veil.

Setting the tray on the hallway table, Michel gently knocked on the door. The door opened silently immediately. Claude smiled warmly at seeing Michel, nearly causing him to spill the soup out of excitement.

“Be careful.”

Claude quickly took the meal from Michel and placed it on the small table in the room. Michel, grinning, entered without permission and asked if there was anything he could do.

“Well, not particularly.”

“Then, can I watch you eat?”

Claude was momentarily taken aback by his bold request, looking at the red-haired boy who was clasping his hands behind him, looking up at him.

“Sure, do as you like.”

Claude sat down in the chair and began his late breakfast.

Michel perched at the edge of the bed, watching Claude eat the chicken. The soup, lacking in grease, was bland but good with bread soaked in it and salted cabbage on top. Thinking that his manner of eating seemed noble due to his different clothes, Michel’s heart beat pleasantly because Claude wasn’t eating like he would, all in a rush.

“Is it comfortable living here at the mansion?”

Claude spoke first to Michel, who was looking at him with his mouth open since it was awkward to be in the same room without talking.

“Yes. It’s actually more comfortable than at my previous master’s house. I feel proud because I can help with small errands instead of just eating for free. As you know, the only thing I knew how to do was work with my body.”

Michel mentioned his past without hesitation. Claude nodded while tearing his bread. Right, he used to sell his body.

Claude then realized something he hadn’t thought about before. Yves had kept Michel around but hadn’t taken him. For someone who regularly visited the Saint-Michel brothel, this was an incomprehensible behavior. So, was all that visiting not just for relief of lust? Or was Michel not his type? Whatever the case, Claude didn’t like the fact that Yves was selective about men.

“Does it taste strange?”

Seeing Claude’s frown while chewing the meat, Michel asked cautiously.

“Ah, I was just lost in thought.”

He straightened his expression and focused on his meal. The condition of the ingredients was surprisingly good, and of course, the taste was top-notch. The sunlight coming through the window was warm. The bed was also superb. After leaving Yves’s room last night, Claude had managed to get a few hours of good sleep.

“Has the Captain not woken up yet?”

“No, he probably won’t wake up until lunchtime.”

“I see.”

Claude quietly agreed with that opinion. Perhaps he wouldn’t even get to say goodbye. Although Yves had told him to rest as much as he wanted, that didn’t mean he could leisurely take a walk here.

He recalled going to Yves’s room last night without any reason. No, before that, he should review why he had waited for him in front of Baron Maurice’s mansion. What exactly was he hoping for from Yves? Claude was floundering in emotions he couldn’t sort out himself.

Ever since waking from that damned, sinister dream, he couldn’t sleep again. And all he could say after going to see him was something like that.

‘Like you’re ready to give your life for me.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

It was an instinctive response. It must have sounded too meaningful to just dismiss. Yves, feeling uneasy, fell silent. He might have thought it was presumptuous. But Claude was also quite taken aback. His growing interest had finally shown its true form. He was confused, his heart was full, and at the same time, he was consumed by sadness.

Wasn’t he setting his heart on the most impossible person?

The thought was so pathetic that a sigh escaped him.

After the meal, as Michel was about to take the empty dishes downstairs, Claude asked for a favor.

“Could you bring me the clothes I wore yesterday? I gave them to a girl with freckles and brown hair, asking her to dry them.”

“Ah, yes! No problem.”

Michel excitedly went downstairs to find Claude’s clothes and brought them back. However, he soon had to look disappointed because Claude changed into the clothes he brought and prepared to return home immediately.

“I thought you’d stay for lunch. I was hoping you’d come with us this afternoon to catch raccoons with Charles.”

“That might be difficult. There are people waiting for me at home.”

“Is that the sister you mentioned before?”

“Yes.”

Michel tried to persuade him with several excuses, but even the idea of melting beehives to make wax didn’t pique Claude’s interest.

“Then, just wait a moment. Let me check if the Captain is awake. He might be upset if you leave without saying goodbye.”

Would he really be upset?

Claude gave a bitter smile as he watched Michel run upstairs. As expected, Michel returned to the first floor before even a minute had passed, rubbing his hands over his pants with a troubled expression and conveying Yves’s message.

“Well, he’s awake… but he just said to go well. And that tomorrow he’ll be resting at home, so the sergeant should report to the barracks.”

Claude nodded as if he had anticipated it.

“Maybe he’s having trouble coming down because he drank too much last night. Right?”

“Yeah, that must be it.”

Having given up any lingering thoughts, Claude left the mansion. At the entrance, the brown horse that had carried them back yesterday was waiting for him. Having eaten well and rested, the horse bowed its head as if asking for a pat.

“I’ve changed the saddle because it was wet. I’ve also put on new gear, so it should be much easier to ride.”

Jacques from the stable handed the reins to Claude. He seemed to have taken good care of the horse, having checked on it since it returned to its old home.

“Thank you.”

“I was worried, but you’ve taken good care of it. Its droppings were rich, and its eyes were clear. The horse seems to be growing fond of its new owner.”

“That’s good to hear.”

With Jacques and Michel seeing him off, Claude mounted the horse. He took a light lap around to give the horse time to adjust to the new gear.

He saw the curtains of Yves’s room on the second floor of the mansion. The ones he had drawn aside when he left the bedroom at dawn were still not opened. After one more lap, the closed curtains remained the same. With a sense of regret, Claude spurred the horse.

Yves started going back to work at the barracks. He partially put aside his debauched lifestyle to meet people in his office every day. However, he didn’t just deal with nobles. Not everyone he met was a person of power. One day he might meet a lavishly dressed socialite, and another day, he might invite an old, retired officer.

Since he hadn’t left his office recently, Claude had few opportunities to see Yves’s face. Except for the daily commute to and from work, there were many days they didn’t see each other at all. His role as an aide was becoming less and less about assisting beside him, making the title of personal aide seem almost meaningless.

For this reason, Claude’s expression was a bit animated as he crossed the parade ground. He had found an excuse to enter Yves’s office. There was a unit inspection event later, so he had to fetch him. Especially since Yves looked unusually tired this morning, it had been on Claude’s mind all day. He must have been exhausted from dealing with people.

Claude hoped Yves would take a few days off to rest in the countryside. Of course, with the condition that he could come along. So, this was not about personal desire but a sense of duty. Claude didn’t want to ask for more than that. He found great satisfaction in this role of assisting Yves. Excluding family, being the closest one to watch over him was something he considered fortunate.

With large strides, Claude hurried to the officers’ building and up to the office. After tidying his uniform, he knocked on the door.

“Captain, it’s Veil.”

“…”

There was no answer. After waiting for a moment, Claude knocked again and opened the door.

“I’ll come in.”

It might have been rude, but he was here to fetch him for the inspection on time. Besides, considering their relationship, it should be fine. Yves had overlooked things worse than this before.

Upon entering the room, Claude saw Yves deeply engaged in conversation with Lieutenant Mirabeau. They were sitting on a sofa rather than at the desk, in a relaxed manner, which looked very familiar.

“Ah, I’m not exaggerating. Summer in Calais is blessed by Demeter. You can catch boars, foxes, deer, and even ducks in one place. You must come once.”

“I was just pondering where to spend my summer vacation, so this is perfect. How about hosting a hunting event under your family’s name? It would be a good chance to hold intimate conversations with close associates.”

“It would be an honor. If you say you’re attending, invitations will sell like hotcakes.”

He was blatantly buttering up to Yves.

“I’d like to gather only those who are worthy… since the Duke of Artois might attend.”

“Of course. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Mirabeau, with a shiny face, put down his cigarette and uncrossed his legs, looking towards the entrance.

“A dog has come in. Without permission, how insolent.”

Only then did Yves slowly turn his head. His blue eyes met Claude’s.

“What’s the matter?”

“The inspection will start soon. I came to escort you before the Colonel arrives.”

“Oh, is it that time already? Wait a moment.”

Yves stood up, adjusting his uniform, and then picked up his gloves and saber from the table, preparing to leave. At that moment, Mirabeau casually suggested to Yves:

“Why don’t we go together? I’ll escort you myself.”

“Hmm, let’s do that.”

Hearing Yves’s response, Claude’s face twitched. He had expected a refusal, but his expectations were clearly off. The excitement he felt earlier sank heavily. Yves turned to Claude, who was standing there blankly, and said:

“Return to the platoon and check if anyone is missing. If there are empty ranks like last time, you’ll be held responsible.”

Yves issued a formal command.

“Seems like there was a mute who couldn’t even answer his superior.”

Lieutenant Mirabeau, getting ready to leave, mocked as he stood up. Only then did Claude realize he had been standing there without responding.

“I apologize. I’ll carry it out immediately.”

“You’ve lost all discipline. Seems like you’ve forgotten your place by wagging your tail too much.”

The lieutenant continued with his offensive remarks, but there was nothing Claude could do. Mirabeau was also his superior. Claude saluted both men and then turned around to leave the office immediately.

Claude’s steps were heavy as he walked across the parade ground. He was barely suppressing emotions that threatened to burst out. A sense of loss that couldn’t be explained by mere disappointment or anger weighed him down. Why had he expected Yves to reject Mirabeau’s offer and go with him? In other words, this was like a fool rushing in without knowing his place and getting kicked by a boot.

A hollow laugh escaped Claude.

So that’s why.

He wasn’t unaware of Yves’s recent attempts to keep distance. A smart man like Yves would have instinctively sensed his subordinate’s feelings for crossing the line. Hence, the command to wait there quietly, keeping distance.

Claude looked back at Yves’s office window. The May sunlight shone down in a straight line, obstructing his view. He frowned.

He hoped Yves would remember it was he who first asked to be by his side. Now, he couldn’t just take that place away.

His murmurings dispersed into the air with the wind.

The next day, Yves met Louis Thiers late in the afternoon. He loosened his thin uniform and took a swig of the wine on the table. He spat out oak sediment into a handkerchief; it was cheap and not to his taste.

“How does it feel to be known as a notorious debauchee? Not bad, right?”

Louis approached with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m so famous that it’s embarrassing to show my face. It’s all good, but the rumor about me being good at pleasing noblewomen was a bit much, wasn’t it?”

“That wasn’t us. Rumors have a way of snowballing on their own. It’s all a result of your own doing, isn’t it? You used to say you liked provocative stuff, so where did that shamelessness go? Anyway, you’ve made contact because of that. Do those lunatics gather often these days?”

“Seems like once a week. Of course, I’m not invited to all of them. They’re cautious, so there’s no external movement.”

“What do they do when they meet? Orgies? Torture?”

At that, Yves rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache.

“It’s not always like that. Surprisingly, sometimes they just play cards and that’s it. Apart from Baron Maurice and Madame Chalrette, the invited guests also change frequently.”

“Oh, speaking of that woman, Chalrette, I did some investigation. She’s indeed an opera singer, but from a fallen noble family. Her parents had earned the title of count, but they all died, leaving her alone. Can you guess why she ended up like this?”

Yves set down his wine glass, looking at Louis’s grinning face.

“One of those whose necks were chopped off after the Revolution of ’89, I suppose.”

“Exactly. They were quite respected in the Auxerre region. At the time of the revolution, they even called their servants separately to give them their fortune and a chance to escape, so by today’s standards, they were true nobles. But as you know, the Jacobins didn’t distinguish when they attacked.”

“Right.”

Yves nodded, understanding.

It was a time when bloody madness blinded even the wise. Those who hated the Ancien Régime sent all nobles indiscriminately to the guillotine. Marie de Chalrette probably lived a miserable life after surviving by chance. For her, nothing but a burning desire for revenge against the masses would remain.

“Surprisingly, her relationship with Baron Maurice is clean. Maybe because he’s a devout Catholic, there were no scandals. They seem to be bound by conviction.”

“Sometimes, relationships like that can be more frightening.”

“I agree. By the way, your black dog is faithfully waiting today as well.”

Louis, who had somehow moved to the window, pulled back the curtain to look outside. Yves frowned, clearly not wanting to hear this.

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

“What does it matter? These days, everyone around you has been linked to some scandal with Yves de Perrier. He’s quite tame compared to others. A male dog panting after his beautiful superior, day or night, but pitifully never getting a glance in return. There are those who feel sorry for him, you know?”

“Stop it.”

“Does he know that you don’t sleep with anyone? Or does he want to be under that big body of yours?”

“Shut up, Louis.”

Yves threw the cheap wine glass, showing his displeasure. The red wine from the broken glass stained the carpet.

“Oho, what a fierce reaction. I thought you’d laugh it off like usual.”

“He’s just doing his assigned duty. He’s not the type to be dragged into vulgar rumors, so watch your mouth.”

“You seem quite fond of him.”

Louis crossed his arms, looking at Yves with amusement.

“Why not introduce him to me? Though it might look odd for someone like you to call me a friend. Why not tell him the truth? He might like it even more. To find out his debauched superior is actually a noble soul sacrificing for the people. He might even start worshipping you.”

“Enough with the games. I’m starting to get annoyed.”

Yves looked at him seriously.

“Alright. Stop it.”

However, the meaningful smile on Louis’s face didn’t fade. Yves, looking displeased, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief to get rid of the wine taste. Then, deliberately changing the subject to something entirely different, he said:

“How about the painter for the portrait?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve looked into a few quick-handed artists.”

“Next Friday, there’s an opera by Madame Chalrette. Since Marianna and I will be there with Baron Maurice, have the artist paint his portrait.”

“One by one, their identities are being revealed.”

Louis, who had closed the curtain, returned to Yves’s side with an anticipatory look.

“Even if the portrait is completed, don’t hand it over to Charbonnerie right away.”

“Of course. If we don’t catch them all at once, we might be the ones to get hit.”

“There’s a hunting event planned in Calais in August. If there’s no better opportunity, we might aim for that day.”

“Will the king still be alive by then?”

“Who knows. If God is on our side, he should show special mercy.”

At that moment, someone knocked on the door twice and then three times in succession. It was a pre-arranged signal. They quickly exchanged looks. It meant someone who could disrupt this secret meeting had arrived.

“You should go now.”

“See you in two weeks. Don’t be late like today.”

“I understand, just leave without drawing attention.”

Yves gave advice from behind Louis as he opened the secret passage.

After Louis left, Yves remained alone in the room for a moment. As he was about to leave with his jacket in hand, he suddenly opened the curtain to look outside. Louis, who had left first, was talking to Claude about something. Claude looked momentarily surprised but then nodded and saluted him. Then, he started walking towards the building where Yves was.

“Damn it, Louis! Always up to no good.”

Yves, looking angry, left the room. The broken glass on the carpet shattered under his boot. He quickly strode into the corridor. Then, someone recognized him and blocked his path.

“Isn’t this Captain Perrier?”

“Ah, Marquis Raymond.”

This was a disaster. He had met the one person he most wanted to avoid here. He was one of those who had sentenced Jean Simon to death in Baron Maurice’s underground.

Didn’t he say he had an estate in some rural area near Bussac?

A distant relative of a grand noble from the time of Louis XIV, now a minor provincial noble after his family’s complete downfall post-revolution. The marquis spent the last of his fortune in Paris’s brothels, always drunk and reminiscing about past glory.

He seemed to have been fooling around since midday today. Something greasy was smeared on his jutting jaw, and his shirt and waistcoat were undone. The stench of his perfume combined with his drunken stagger was nauseating.

“You must be a regular here too. So, who’s the pretty one that caught our captain’s eye? Or do you have someone you’re hung up on? They say the girls here prefer young ones, but they’re quite picky. Oh, by the way, do you gamble?”

Yves was already in a hurry and found the rambling speech irritating. He frowned and lowered his voice.

“You are very drunk, Marquis. You should go back to your room.”

“Ah, I’m fine. This isn’t even drunk. By the way, I heard you and the Duchess of Definé are an item. Is that true? I heard you’ve already bedded quite a few noblewomen. I wonder why they all spread their legs for you. Is your equipment that impressive?”

He staggered, putting a fist between his legs and cackling. His vulgar behavior was sickening. Yves wanted to throw him out the window but just sighed and continued to endure.

“Apologies, I have urgent matters to attend to.”

“Isn’t it funny to use being busy as an excuse for someone you meet in a brothel in broad daylight?”

“I have reasons today. I’ll treat you another time.”

“That’s disappointing. This is our first encounter outside. Our gatherings aren’t so casual…”

“Captain, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Someone covered the marquis’s voice as he was about to show his displeasure. Turning around, Madame Paria, in a silk robe, came between them with a smile. She gave a slight bow to the marquis and gently took Yves by the arm, whispering in his ear.

— Someone has come looking for you. He’s a soldier.

Yves was a step too late. His plan to take Claude away before he entered this place had failed due to the drunk marquis’s interference. Louis’s mischief had caused trouble. The fact that it was Madame Paria who guided was somewhat fortunate.

Yves whispered back to her:

— Where is he?

— I’ve hidden him in a room. Ah!

As Madame Paria stood on her toes to whisper, she slightly lost her balance. At that moment, Yves lightly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his chest. She smiled bashfully in his arms, admiring his quick reflexes. The ruby necklace on her pale chest glittered.

“Shall we go to the room then?”

Yves said this while stroking Madame Paria’s hair in a showy manner. The marquis chuckled, understanding.

“Ah, so that’s the urgent matter. Did I act without tact? Go on then. She looks like a sweet one.”

The marquis scratched his jaw and looked at them, and Madame Paria held Yves’s arm tightly, laughing.

“Then, excuse us, Marquis.”

She blushed, clinging to Yves like a favorite concubine.

They passed the marquis and headed towards the parlor at the end of the corridor. Pulling a hidden handle revealed another parlor, and when they reached a room draped with long curtains, Madame Paria let go of his arm.

“I’ve brought him here. Is he your new lover?”

She, knowing one of Yves’s secrets, brushed off the feather on his waistcoat with a knowing smile.

“I told you we can’t work together if you get too curious, Paria.”

“I know. It’s just, there are so many rumors about you these days. Hehe.”

“The necklace suits you well.”

At Yves’s words, she smiled and touched the thousand-franc jewel around her neck. If she upset him, she wouldn’t receive such valuable gifts anymore. Madame Paria quietly opened the door for him and left. Inside the small room with rose wallpaper, Claude’s back was visible.

He was holding his shako under his right arm, looking around at the items in the room. He touched and even smelled objects shaped like male genitalia and scented oils. Yves entered the room and closed the door.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to come up here.”

Claude immediately turned around and saluted him.

“I was told you urgently needed me.”

Yves muttered something harsh under his breath towards someone. Seeing this, Claude realized there had been a misunderstanding.

“I see. I felt something was off. But he didn’t seem suspicious, so I thought he knew you very well.”

“Why?”

“He knew you take men to bed. He said you’ve been overdoing it today and there was an incident, so you needed me urgently.”

Yves sighed with a look of half-resignation. He had hoped for a more dignified excuse, but Louis Thiers’s bad taste remained unchanged.

“What kind of incident? Did you think I might die from overindulgence?”

“I’d rather not imagine such things.”

Claude gave a wry smile as he set down the oil he was holding.

Did he look at it because he knew what it was used for?