It soon became clear that Furen's worries were pointless, because he heard a familiar voice:
"Hey, Furen, over here! I was wondering if you were going to be late; a lot of people still haven't lost that habit, you know. Come on, I'll take you to that philosophy salon."
Warm and cheerful, the voice perfectly matched Furen's image of Quevedo. Looking up, he saw Quevedo dressed in a black suit over a white shirt, his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture. Beside him, Erich, in a dark blue, almost black suit, stood straight and reserved; he simply nodded in greeting when Furen's gaze met his.
Furen did not respond with words either, but with a nod of his head like Erich: he embraced Quevedo in turn, with an amused smile.
"Quevedo, I seem to recall that Roselle didn't invent hugs as a greeting. I think he invented the handshake, didn't he? Has your idol changed his style?"
Quevedo laughed, without stopping, while leading Furen inside the Scarlet and Gold Café.
"Ah, Furen, you're a little mistaken. It's true, Mr. Roselle did invent the handshake, but he also introduced the custom of the hug."
Then, his hands waving passionately, he added:
"Mr. Roselle is the pearl of our Trier, no, of all Intis, and even of the whole world! He is tall, brilliant, and illuminates the entire continent. I'm going to say something you might not like: although he is nicknamed the "Son of Steam," I think his accomplishments surpass those of the Pope of the Church of Steam, and even those of all the believers before him."
Furen, hearing a phrase that would have outraged most of Roselle's followers, did not protest. He simply smiled:
"Roselle is the Son of Steam, the first of the Church of Steam. Of course, he is above the Pope: the Pope is merely a guardian of the faithful, while the Son of God is of a completely different rank. Apart from Roselle, only the very first Pope has ever held this title."
Quevedo laughed in turn:
"Ah, yes, it was I who lacked foresight. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, in fact, this custom of embracing comes from the northern barbarians. We, in Intis or Loen in the past, practiced a bow, while in the Lenburg region, they preferred the 'Sage' greeting. It was Mr. Roselle who introduced this warm greeting."
At these words, Quevedo adopted an almost religious expression, imbued with fervent admiration:
"The first time Mr. Roselle used this custom was at the beginning of a reception given by the Countess of Kasedor. He hugged her, and everyone was astonished; some even went so far as to reprimand him!"
"But Mr. Roselle didn't reply. Back home, he wrote an essay analyzing all the greeting customs of the continent. In it, he advocated simple and warm gestures and criticized the excessive complexity of the old traditions. That was Mr. Roselle's greatness: this spirit of reform and unwavering devotion!"
Furen looked at Quevedo, his face lit with an almost mystical enthusiasm, and didn't quite know where to begin to comment on all this; he had so many remarks that he preferred to say none. Finally, he asked with a feigned air of innocence:
"And this Countess of Kasedor, tell me... was she beautiful?"
Still absorbed in his veneration of Roselle, Quevedo replied mechanically:
"It's not a question of beauty or not. She was... how to say... strikingly beautiful, yes, truly magnificent. But make no mistake! Mr. Roselle was not a man to be guided by lust. I assure you, the Count of Kasedor had only just died at the time; Roselle would never have dared to lay a hand on another man's widow."
Furen frowned slightly, sensing an inconsistency, and asked:
"And... this count, during his lifetime, maintained good relations with Roselle?"
Quevedo immediately exclaims:
"Ah, that's precisely where Monsieur Roselle's greatness lies! The Count of Kasedor was a fervent supporter of the Sauron family and a fierce opponent of Roselle. And yet, it was thanks to Monsieur Roselle's protection that the Count's widow and children were able to live peacefully!"
Ah, that explains everything… thought Furen.
He had sensed that there was something strange going on, and now he had the proof: Roselle was undoubtedly the one largely responsible for the decline in morals in Trier.
The ancient kingdom of Intis, despite everything, still had its principles.
But what about the modern republic of Intis? It now rivaled the West in matters of libertinism.
Furen silently offered a candle to the deceased count, a candle that, without a doubt, burned with a greenish flame. Yes… provoking Roselle and hoping not to be "greened" was asking too much.
While chatting like this, the three men arrived in front of a room upstairs in the café. The door, although small, was exquisitely beautiful: intricate floral patterns adorned it, as well as glass and mother-of-pearl inlays that reflected the glow of the candles in the corridor.
Without a word, Quevedo knocked two or three times, then pushed open the door. Inside, some guests turned to see who was entering, while others continued their lively conversations. But the person who attracted the most attention was a young man seated in the place of honor.
It wasn't so much his beauty that made him remarkable, but his posture and bearing: he wore a long white robe edged with gold, in an antique style, studded with rubies, emeralds, and agates arranged in a circle like a constellation. The stones, while not enormous, gave the whole ensemble a sumptuous brilliance.
Her face wasn't angelic, but it was far from ordinary: her sapphire blue eyes, in striking contrast to her red lips, immediately drew the eye, especially as they echoed the gemstones in her outfit. Her short chestnut hair further accentuated this impression of refinement.
The only flaw, Furen reflected, was that his features lacked firmness: even by the standards of delicate beauty in vogue in Trier, they were almost too graceful. An oval face, almond-shaped eyes on a woman, one would have called it a charming face; on a man, it bordered on ambiguity.
Seeing Furen, Quevedo, and Erich enter, the young man jumped up. His voice, usually calm, betrayed a certain excitement:
"Master Erich, you've arrived! Come in, I am honored to welcome you. For this philosophical salon I am organizing, you are the brightest of gems."
To Furen's surprise, the master of the house did not turn to Quevedo, who was the very type of socialite, but to Erich, who seemed rather solitary and not very inclined to conversation.
Erich, unperturbed, stepped forward and replied in a distant tone:
"You are too kind. It is your philosophical talent that shines here. Participating in this banquet of minds is an honor for me."
(End of chapter)