Chapter 13

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Chapter 13
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“Are you acquainted with Madame de Châteauroux?”

I tilted my head at the man's question. I blinked exaggeratedly, feigning ignorance as if I had no idea what he was talking about. I was curious why he was suddenly asking me about ‘Marianne de Châteauroux,’ but I couldn't bring myself to answer right away.

Marianne de Châteauroux is a prostitute. Her real name is ‘Marianne Bontemps,’ and until Count Defortes Felici adopted her and sent her to the palace, she sold her body to nobles in a brothel tucked away in the back alleys of Philionne Street.

She was such a famous courtesan that to speak of the red flower of Philionne’s nights was to speak of ‘Marianne Bontemps.’

Bontemps entered the brothel at the ripe age of eighteen and, within a mere week of receiving clients, had claimed the title of the finest prostitute. Her skills in the bedchamber were innate, and every man was desperate to sleep with Marianne Bontemps.

Perhaps that was why. As dusk settled and darkness fell, the establishment would be bustling with men who came bearing all sorts of treasures, loitering outside Marianne Bontemps’s room.

Among them was Count Defortes Felici. The Count’s predecessors had been content to look after their provincial estate, but he was an ambitious man who sought to enter the political world and seize power.

The Count realized the emperor was a man of great vigor and a petty character who craved carnal pleasures, so he sought a beautiful yet empty-headed woman he could use to manipulate the emperor and make himself a noble among nobles. The woman he discovered for this purpose was the prostitute ‘Marianne Bontemps.’

The emperor was completely captivated by the charms of the young woman brought by Count Defortes Felici. The bedroom arts she had mastered for her debut in the demimonde were unparalleled by any other woman.

Marianne Bontemps’s beautiful face, voluptuous body, and flirtatious demeanor were a novel delight, something he could not experience with the empress or other staid noble ladies.

Therefore, the emperor wished for Marianne Bontemps to become his mistress and entertain him indefinitely, and he endeavored to erase her dark past for that purpose.

So he gifted Marianne Bontemps a castle in the ‘Châteauroux’ region and showed his enthusiasm by making her ‘Marquise Marianne de Châteauroux’ and having her debut in high society.

After all, even the emperor, the most powerful man in the land, lacked the nerve to make a woman bearing the title of ‘prostitute’ his official mistress.

In any case, because of this, people came to call the prostitute Marianne Bontemps ‘Marquise Marianne de Châteauroux.’ It was a deeply shameful affair for the notoriously proud aristocratic society.

“Was that an impertinent question?”

“Yes. It's not only impertinent but also quite startling. I don't understand why you would ask me about my acquaintance with the Marquise de Châteauroux.”

The man replied to my words. His voice was impassive, devoid of any emotion. It was as casual as asking the name of a passing bird.

“I happened to overhear you mention her as I was passing by. Shall I say it piqued my interest? That is why I have dared to ask, at the risk of being rude.”

“Why is that?”

At my question, the man twisted his lips into a strangely dark smile. It looked as vile and wicked as a jackal tearing into its prey. It was a chilling smile, hard to believe it came from such a handsome face.

“There are always beasts coveting a bone with scraps of flesh still on it.”

He called himself a ‘beast,’ debasing himself as if he were some libertine coveting power. But I didn't believe his words at face value. He was something far greater than a fly buzzing around the corpse of power.

His elegant posture and speech, his ingrained habit of showing consideration for women—his actions were far too refined to be called those of a ‘beast.’

Above all, the ‘contempt’ and ‘loathing’ flashing in his blue eyes were emotions too difficult to simply overlook. So I deliberately countered his words, whispering cheerfully as if singing.

“Oh, what a shame. I have no connection to the Marquise whatsoever. I merely employed a little trick.”

“A trick, you say?”

“They say the owner of this shop is so arrogant he won't even glance at anyone of ordinary standing. He only brings out his best wares when a prominent figure visits. So I simply pretended to be one. All to acquire an item of the quality I desire.”

“For a mere piece of stationery? Are you saying you don't mind if your honor is stained with disgrace?”

I shook my head, denying his words.

“No. He and I have engaged in a mutually beneficial transaction. I obtained the item I wanted, and he will see considerable financial gain by introducing it as a favorite of Madame de Châteauroux and selling the new stationery.”

“How despicable! Are you aware that you are engaging in an act befitting a swindler?”

“That's hardly something for you to say, you who shamelessly eavesdropped on my conversation and then pestered me for an introduction to Madame de Châteauroux. You're right. I won't deny it. What I did was the act of a swindler. So what's the problem? It's not just me; everyone is cashing in on the name ‘Madame de Châteauroux.’ Shall I give you a suitable example?”

Marianne de Châteauroux's debauchery was so famous that collections of poetry and literature mocking her were being sold in secret.

From renowned poets to rakes who enjoyed lifting women's skirts, and even commoners of low birth, there was no one who did not speak her name in vain.

The man fell silent at my words. He, too, must have heard his share of mockery regarding Marianne de Châteauroux in his life; he would have understood perfectly what I meant. That must be why he was struck dumb.

That was why I was so curious. Why he had approached me and asked about my acquaintance with ‘Marianne de Châteauroux.’

I already suspected that even our collision had been part of his ‘plan.’ Otherwise, he couldn't have separated me from Marie and the knight so easily.

As my thoughts reached this point, the fondness I'd felt for the man's enchanting voice seemed to cool completely. I watched him with wary eyes, praying that Marie and the knight would come out of the shop soon.

“I have been rude to you, my lady. I don't know how I can apologize.”

the man said. Though his words spoke of apology, his expression was utterly serene. Finding this irksome, I forgot my decorum and retorted like a petulant child.

“How can one erase a rudeness already committed? Let's just say it has been offset by the consideration you've shown me.”

At that, he took my hand and pressed a light kiss to its back. Then, with a captivating smile that could charm anyone, he introduced himself.

“I am Theodore of House Beatrice.”

“I am Cisse of House Vischwartz.”

At my words, a strange light flickered in his eyes. Perhaps surprised that the woman whose hand he held was someone unexpected, he spoke politely, the smile never leaving his lips.

“So you are *that* rumored lady.”

I retorted in a prim tone.

“And you, sir, are someone I've never even heard a rumor about.”

“It can't be helped. The shadows hidden behind the curtain are always darker. People are always afraid of what lurks in the darkness. That is why they do not seek to know what truths lie beyond it. It's only natural that no one would know of me.”

“Are you confessing to be a dangerous man?”

“If I were, would you pull this hand away?”

“No. I would pull it closer. I do not fear danger. The only things I cast aside are those that bring me no benefit.”

At my words, the man laughed out loud. It was the first ‘genuine’ smile he had shown me. After laughing heartily for a good while, he suddenly stopped, leaned down, and kissed my cheek.

And as I stood frozen in surprise at the sudden contact, he whispered in my ear with a soft voice.

“Your scent is like neroli. I have never met a woman who delights me as you do, my lady. But our encounter for today ends here. Time is so cruel and heartless; it pains my very heart. Therefore, I shall eagerly await the day we meet again, Lady Vischwartz.”

His movements were like those of a stage actor. If I hadn't glimpsed the elegance imbued in his every action and the arrogant pride in his unconscious gestures, I would have mistaken the man for a renowned thespian.

Having finished speaking, he bowed to me with astonishingly exaggerated movements. It was so excessive as to be absurd, to the point where passersby turned to stare at me.

Wondering who could be the great lady receiving such an extravagant gesture.

And as if this were a signal, Marie and the knight, whose shadows I hadn't even seen while the man and I were talking, finally emerged from the shop entrance and approached me. Their experience of being swept away by the crowd must have been dreadful, as their faces were as wilted as boiled cabbage.

“Young Miss! I was so worried.”

“Are you alright?”

I barely acknowledged their greetings, trying to find Theodore Beatrice, who was now obscured by them.

But like a desert mirage, he had vanished. His movements were so swift they could have been magic. It was truly in the blink of an eye.

It was an encounter I could have easily dismissed, but feeling somehow played, I grew annoyed and bit my lip gently.

To be subjected to such ill-mannered behavior—him spouting questions to his heart's content and then disappearing once his curiosity was sated—was a first for me, and I was utterly exasperated.

Meanwhile, I carefully replayed our conversation in my head, afraid I might have misspoken and given him something to hold against me.

As a young girl who had not yet debuted in society, I needed to prevent any rumors that might bring shame to my family.

Though a poor reputation already clung to me because of my mother seducing my stepfather. Still, I would refuse any further labels.

What I needed was not the temperament of a vulgar vamp, as everyone thought, but a multifaceted personality—lovely yet somehow dangerous, with an unconsciously ingrained aloofness that was part of the charm.

That was why even flaunting an acquaintance with Madame de Châteauroux needed to be done gradually, like the hem of a dress slowly dampening with dew.

There was no reason to make everyone wary of the existence of ‘Cisse de Vischwartz.’ All I needed was to inspire cautious behavior born from an uncertain question: ‘I hear she is quite close with Madame de Châteauroux? Could it be true?’—something they couldn't be sure of, and therefore couldn't act rashly upon.

My concern was that Theodore Beatrice had the appearance of someone who might have already debuted in society, and I worried he might gossip about me to curry favor with other ladies at a salon.

For men in love, men desperate to capture a woman's heart, are tougher and more resilient than hammered steel; they are swindlers who will fabricate stories out of thin air.

So there was no guarantee he wouldn't say such things as a joke to capture everyone's attention!

‘I went to Angel's Breath the other day, and you'll never guess who I met—that rumored young lady. She was, oh heavens, truly just as the rumors say. I suspect the gentleman over there with the ambiguous smile and the eyes of a man trapped in a maze is thinking the very same thing as I am right now. In any case, she had a taste so vulgar it's difficult to speak of. So, come now, everyone, let us show some class and decorum and respect her, if only in our imaginations. Is that not the benevolent and honorable path for us to take?’

The very thought made me dizzy.