Chaise a la Reine

There was some champagne that servants carried around on trays, but it had turned quite lukewarm due to the heat outside. Eugène approached the table in charge of serving the liquor and asked the servant to pour champagne. The champagne on the liquor table was lavishly submerged in a pile of ice, which was hard to find during this season.

The uniformed servant politely handed him two glasses of cold champagne. 

“You’ll have to be careful. She will eat you up to the bone.”

Eugène was about to return to his seat with the champagne glasses before he turned his head and looked to his side at the sudden warning.

“Were you speaking to me just now?”

The man who had just come to the liquor table for champagne shrugged and turned to Eugène. He was a man who looked around ten years younger than Eugène, and a typical salon aristocrat who used camellia oil to style his hair and dressed according to the latest fashion. 

“I apologize. Despite knowing that I was being too meddlesome, I couldn’t just let it go. Judging by the looks of it, it seems that you’re not well-informed of what goes around in the capital.”

The young man said cheerfully and winked. Though his manner of speaking friendly to people he met for the first time was no different from that of any young nobleman, Eugène felt a certain reluctance from him.

“Do you know her?”

Eugène realized that the young man was secretly peeping behind his back while pretending not to, and asked a question. The young man burst into laughter at his straightforward question.

“Of course. Who doesn’t know 'The Eighth Fleur' in Michèle? She is the most famous courtesan in the capital. She is as expensive as a queen.”

Courtesan?

Eugène slightly frowned at the unexpected fact. He knew she wasn’t of nobility, but he didn’t know she was a prostitute. As he knew, this party was held by a cardinal of the Order of St. Eustace.

But what was even more worrisome was her nickname, ‘The Eighth Fleur’. As soon as he heard those words, the petal-shaped spots he saw earlier passed by in his mind. It would be no exaggeration to speculate that the spots that had captivated him for a while and made him unable to take his eyes off from had something to do with her nickname, which was unique to the courtesan. 

“The Eighth Fleur?”

“Do you not know? It’s the legendary nickname of Madame Schuabel.”

When Eugène repeated the nickname he heard for the first time in his mouth, the man looked somehow elated. He glorified the fame of the legendary courtesan Madame Schaubel by telling stories Eugène never asked for.

“Fleur is the name and nickname of Madame Schuabel. Though I’m not sure if it’s her real name or a pseudonym, there’s probably no other name that suits her more than that. I wonder if you’ve seen the little petals on her chest. If she herself is her first fleur, then the petals are her second fleur. It is said that Madame Shuabel has a total of seven fleurs, including the petals. But no one else knows where they are on her body. It is a secret known only to herself and the gentlemen who slept with her.” 

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

In addition to that, the young man told him the story behind the prostitution, unknown whether it was true or false, that one had to pay a jewel every time he wanted to see one more fleur, and that a wealthy count could only see the last fleur after handing her seven mansions.

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The young man was full of energy because of Eugène as he was silently listening to anything he said. Eugène then gently cut off his words and gave him an unpleasant look for a moment as he tried to organize his thoughts, and ended the conversation with a hasty smile.

“Thank you for the good advice. I think it would prove to be of great help.” 

Eugène replaced the lukewarm champagne with a new glass and turned around in front of the young man. The young man wanted to say something more, but belatedly realized the presence of the lady with an annoyed look from afar and hurried back to his place.

“The champagne must have been quite the catch. Did you have to duel for a new glass?”

Madame Schuabel gracefully reached out her hand while wittily criticizing Eugène for returning a long time after leaving for an errand. Eugène smiled and handed her the glass. While he was away for a while, the three noblemen who were standing next to her looked at him as if they were holding him in check. Eugène quietly chuckled, ignoring their immature attitude, full of competitive spirit.

“If necessary, it’s no big deal if I have to resort to a duel. A beauty like Madame deserves it.” 

It never sounded like a joke when Eugène, the only tanned, tall, and well-built man among the slender and white-skinned capital aristocrats, said so. The noblemen who were staring at him not only received a wound to their pride but also seemed terrified, while Madame Schuabel’s white cheeks flushed red.

“It is not an honor for a lady to have a soldier draw a gun outside the battlefield. Don’t say such scary things, come and sit down. As you promised earlier, you have to tell me your saga of dealing with real enemies.”

She called Eugène to her side with a sweet smile. At the same time, she did not forget to be considerate of the noblemen around her. The men were unable to leave her, like a scapegoat caught in a spider’s web, and lingered about. As expected of the capital’s finest courtesan, she was adept at taking advantage of her victims.

Eugène sat next to her as she wished, and continued the interrupted conversation. He had as many questions as she did. The main question was, would she give him an honest answer? 

***

Eugène, who led a regular life, usually woke up around eight in the morning.

Before joining the military, he would usually wake up before dawn to do work, and even after joining the navy, he had no recollection of sleeping early as he would be busy doing odd jobs and chores till it got late. Fortunately, the promotion went smoothly several years ago and he could afford to sleep even into the morning, but because of the constancy his body was accustomed to, he would strictly wake up at the time he was used to.

But these days, it was getting harder and harder to stick to his normal routine of waking up early. It was because his physical fitness gradually began to decline as he continued to go to bed at two in the morning at the earliest and three or four in the morning at the latest. The nobles naturally took their daily lives for granted as they would frolic all night long, sleep through the entire morning, and wake up late in the afternoon. Even after waking up, they would often laze about in their undergarments for a long while, and there were many cases where activities began in earnest only after sunset. 

Eugène didn’t understand how they could live their entire lives like that. Wasn’t it all a waste of time? Life in the court was more strict than that, but the overall atmosphere itself was not that different. He sat up in his bed, sick of the social life he had grown tired of within a month.

He didn’t feel refreshed even after waking up from his sleep. The limbs that had not moved properly for a while also ached. Eugène, after doing a neck exercise and stretching, got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom.

The attendant who brought hot water just in time to wake him up was waiting with a towel on his arm. Eugène lightly washed his face and brushed his teeth with salt and mint leaves. The attendant already knew that he had a simple breakfast, and prepared a meal in advance, which Eugène ate alone while mumbling all by himself as he checked his schedule for the day.

Today was just set for a party, a party, and another party. The capital aristocrats continued to party senselessly as if they all had been possessed by phantoms who had never been able to attend parties. Eugène was looking through the invitations that had been sent to him, and could not overcome the frustration, got up from his seat and called the attendant. 

“Where is the nearest practice area from here?”

After pondering for a moment, the attendant informed him that there was a small practice area on the first floor of this building that was not often used by the guard knights. It was a place specially prepared for use by the late Emperor, but most knights chose to return to their homes when they were off duty instead of training at the palace.

Eugène thought it was good enough after hearing the report and asked to guide him to the practice area. He felt like he would end up accumulating fat all over his body if he continued to idle away like this.

The practice area, which he arrived at under the guidance of the attendant, was spacious and clean. The floor was finished with solid oakwood to withstand intense training and practice, and longswords used for practice training were lined up on the weapon rack. 

The weapon he usually used was a cutlass suitable for battle on board, but he had to use a different weapon because he entrusted the sword he had on himself while entering the palace to the Guard. Eugène picked a sword that fit his hand from the weapon rack and swung it lightly. Perhaps because it was an item placed in the court, it was well-maintained even though it was just a sword for practice and training.

After warming up lightly, Eugène started practicing the basic postures. The ultimate goal of this practice was to acquire a posture with a low center of gravity using a specially developed method due to the peculiarities of ship battles that were difficult to balance. Since this method had the characteristic of training the lower body, it was an essential posture to learn as soon as you enter the navy, but it was also necessary to learn it steadily even after reaching a certain level.

“Is that the so-called ‘orthodox naval style’ training? I’ve heard of it, but it’s the first time I’ve seen it in person.”

Eugène, so immersed in practicing in a simple outfit as if he were naked in the empty room, was startled by the sudden voice and stood upright. He turned around to see the source of the voice and saw the Emperor standing in the doorway. 

Due to the unexpected encounter with the Emperor, Eugène lowered the sword he was holding and politely affirmed. Since it happened in the midst of confusion, he took on his usual militaristic stance without realizing it, but fortunately, the Emperor did not scold him.

“I see Your Majesty the Emperor, Lord of Ardi, Kleman, and Nervoge, Ruler of the Neutel and Salpine Rivers, and Protector of Lex Ardica.”

“I didn’t realize I surprised you. It was nice seeing you concentrate.”

“Not at all, Your Majesty. But what brings you here?” 

“I didn’t come looking for you, so no need to fret. This practice area is where I come often as well. It’s not that I don’t have a separate room, but it’s too far from my office.”

When he heard that, he looked up and saw that the Emperor was wearing only pants and a shirt to make it easy for him to practice. His long, cumbersome blonde hair was also braided in a single strand and tucked behind his back, and he was with a simple party of only two lifeguard attendants who were always by his side.

I see now. This is why no one uses this practice area.

Eugène, ignorant of the situation in the palace, realized the reason why the practice room was always empty and quietly clicked his tongue. Even so, he would have wanted to avoid practicing in a place where the Emperor often came and went. Practicing and training under the Emperor’s gaze would be a burdensome and cumbersome task if one were not quite confident in one’s skills. 

“You’re holding a longsword. Do you usually use that sword?”

The Emperor approached the weapon rack, grabbed the weapons he was familiar with, one by one, and asked. Eugène lowered the sword in his hand with the blade now facing the floor and replied to the Emperor politely.

“No, I mostly use cutlass.”

“Cutlass? Yes, I’ve heard of them. It’s a sword specialized for ship battles, isn’t it? Then you must have mastered Neustrie.” 

“It is true that my swordsmanship originated from Neustrie, but to be honest, it is more of a variant.”

“Variant?”

“It’s not because I learned it by myself rather than formally.  It was difficult to be bound by a definite form of swordsmanship while fighting pirates who mainly attacked in an unconventional manner. It’s a relief since luck has been on my side, otherwise, there were many occasions I could have died due to such impromptu methods.”

The Emperor looked at Eugène with interest. The scars of past battles remained intact in Eugène’s solid body, unlike the Emperor, whose body was as smooth as ivory. 

“Interesting.”

The Emperor spoke to himself and spun the sword in his hand. The Emperor turned the sword in a skillful motion and held it up vertically as he made a suggestion to Eugène with a deep smile.

“Now that we’ve run into each other like this, why don’t we spar once? We have never had the chance to personally fight someone with Neustrie-style swordsmanship before.”

The Emperor’s suggestion, as always, put Eugène in trouble. No, what is this person talking about now? Was I just told to use my sword against the Emperor? Eugène looked at the Emperor with an absurd gaze, and when he realized that the Emperor was not joking, he distorted his expression. 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. But such a thing is impossible.”

He knew quite well that the Emperor was really interested in swords. Seeing his skilled form as he held the sword, it seemed that he had trained quite a bit. However, Eugène did not think that the Emperor’s skills were enough to compete with him, who had been through many battles.

While it was true that the Emperor was a powerful monarch, that did not mean that he was even a good swordsman. Moreover, Eugène was a soldier, and he was a person who only fought to kill, not to defend like a knight. Eugène, knowing that he could accidentally injure the Emperor’s body, flatly refused the Emperor’s immature demand.

“This is the first time anyone has ever refused Us like this. Impossible, you say?” 

The Emperor burst out laughing, as if he found his stern attitude where there was no room for negotiation, to be amusing.

“Why do you think it’s impossible, Baron Amieux?”

“My swordsmanship was forged solely for actual battles. As much, how could I dare to cause harm to Your Majesty’s body?”

“Seems like you’re confident. Judging from how you think you’ll hurt Us?”