Chapter 119

“Come to think of it, my condolences are belated. I heard that Your Lordship’s family has suffered a grievous loss. That your younger brother, Young Lord La Baille, has passed away.”

Eugène, unable to pay his respects at the time, Eugène offered his sympathy belatedly. Hearing his words, the Marquis La Baille smiled dryly.

“What is there to be done? That was the extent of the boy’s fate.”

“He was still a young man. To lose his life in the prime of his years, and by mischance… It is truly unfortunate in many ways.”

“In all a human’s life, the one thing dealt with perfect equality is death. Fate is merciless alike to all.”

The Marquis’s reply was profoundly pessimistic. The grief and desolation of a man who had outlived his own young kin had seemingly hardened into resignation. However, beneath that tone Eugène discerned a subtle cold detachment, and a faint unease stirred within him.

When he cast back his memory, Eugène recalled that the late Young Lord La Baille and the Marquis La Baille had never been particularly close. Whether it was owing to the significant age difference as half-brothers, or to some other reason, he could not say. But even during the years when Eugène was tied to the Marquis’s house by marriage, the two had so little communication that they scarcely ever encountered one another.

However, the Marquis of La Baille was not simply an individual but the head of a house. The death of the Young Lord La Baille, who was still in his youth, meant the loss of an heir to the title, and in a Marquisate with not so much as a collateral kinsman, it was an almost fatal blow.

And yet he speaks of it as though it were another man’s affair.

Eugène cast a discreet glance at his attire. Not only was he without mourning robes, but he had not even affixed the badge of bereavement upon his breast. It was true that at court, which was little less than an official stage, openly displaying one’s mourning was considered a breach of decorum. According to tradition, one who was in mourning refrained altogether from public life.

After a family funeral, it was an imperial custom to spend at least a month in seclusion, observing a period of mourning. The Marquis La Baille, however, had openly disregarded every such convention. To this degree, it could only be deliberate.

“A moment ago, I mentioned that I had reason to attend His Majesty’s banquet. Did I also tell you what the matter concerns?”

As evidenced by his actions so far, the Marquis La Baille had no intention of concealing his purpose. As though he had sensed Eugène’s suspicion, he explained himself in a terse tone.

“I have not yet heard.”

“As you know, I have but one nephew, my sister’s only son, Young Lord Vallienne.”

“I remember him well. An earnest and steadfast young man.”

Eugène nodded, recalling the serious-minded youth who, despite the imposing background of his uncle, had followed family tradition and committed himself to the Army.

“This evening, at the banquet, the boy will be tasting His Majesty’s wine.”

Eugène swallowed a low groan and held his silence. He had already suspected as much when Young Lord Vallienne was first mentioned, yet to hear it confirmed by the Marquis’s own lips was a grave shock.

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“That is so.”

“It will not be an easy undertaking.”

“I know it well. But what else can I do? You, too, bear a title, so you would understand. The foremost duty of an heir is to preserve and continue his house. It is the name of a family carried on for centuries. Am I to let the legacy of such illustrious forebears be extinguished in my generation?”

The Marquis La Baille replied in a tone of weary desolation. In the span of a few months, he seemed to have aged by years. The deepening wrinkles upon his aged face bore the shadows of a lifetime’s burdens.

“I am desperate now. And to prove the urgency of my heart, I am prepared to do anything.”

“I understand.”

They were no empty words. From the moment Eugène grasped the Marquis’s intent, he understood his conduct. To cast aside the full mourning period, to remove the badge of bereavement that might have hindered his formal movements, to present himself at court with such disregard for tradition were, ultimately, acts nothing less than an indirect show of determination.

The Marquis of La Baille had, in the most courtly of manners, conveyed his determination to cast aside all common courtesy.

“Do you think I spoke of this merely to gain your sympathy?”

But it seemed the Marquis had another purpose still. Eugène regarded him with a cautious gaze and returned the question.

“Surely not. What is it you ask of me?”

“I do not intend to make a difficult request. Would you appear with me, even if only once, in an official setting?”

Had it been but a few days earlier, when by command of Ebroin V he had been subjected to treatment bordering on ostracism, such a request would have been difficult to accept. However, since the meeting in the orangerie, his reception had once more returned to what it had been before.

Thus, idle talk circulated unchecked within the court. That they had engaged in some grand lover’s quarre, that the Maquise Lamott, unable to bear their prideful reticence, had acted as a bridge… These were, simply put, utterly baseless rumors, not a single unit of truth in them.

“Would Your Lordship have me openly declare my support at a public gathering?”

“No. There is no need to go so far as to express yourself outright. It will suffice if your presence alone suggests that I have secured your support.”

Though the words were not spoken aloud, Eugène felt as though he had heard them hidden between the lines.

(Even) to the point of being able to secure my support….

Life at court was always unpredictable. Even if one’s ties with a long-time, most powerful patron were unintentionally severed, circumstances could still arise that allowed such a fact to be exploited. Suddenly, the‘prepared to do anything’he had spoken of now seemed to fall upon him, and Eugène could not suppress his uneasy feelings. He knew the words were not meant maliciously, but they hardly sounded reassuring.

“I am deeply indebted to Your Lordship. What would you have me do?”

However, Eugène carried with him a debt yet unpaid to the Marquis of La Baille. Leaving aside the matter of Louise, whom he had failed to protect to the end, he had received countless considerations from him, only to place his hand at last in that of Ebroin V. Whether just or unjust, such matters belonged to the realm of personal honor between men.

“There is no need to look far. Simply appearing with me at His Majesty’s banquet tonight would be of great service.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.”

Drawing his pocket watch from his waistcoat, the Marquis checked the time with difficulty in the dim light, then amended his words.

“To be precise, in fifteen minutes from now.”

Fifteen minutes later, Eugène was exactly where the Marquis had wanted him to be.

The banquet hall, with more guests than usual, teemed with activity. Grands and their attendants who had arrived before His Majesty, the numerous attendants waiting to serve the meal, and, crucially, the dozens of invited guests waiting to observe the banquet, all combined to fill the room. Even though the Salon de l’Abondance was not small, accommodating well over a hundred people left scarcely any space to move.

Salon de l’Abondance, visited after a long absence, exuded the full richness of autumn. Decorative pillars wrapped in brown leather were adorned with delicate metallic branches of brass and copper, at the tips of which hung glass ornaments shaped like linden fruits or bunches of grapes, creating the atmosphere of a forest in fall. From a distance, these decorations looked like real fruit, but up close, the golden glass pigments sprinkled like grains of sand over their surfaces revealed them to be lavishly refined pieces of craftsmanship.

The curtains had been replaced with purple damask velvet, intricately woven with wheat motifs, each window adorned with beautiful trim tassels of gold. A massive carpet, warm to the touch, blocked the chill rising from the floor.

In ornate vases imported from the East bloomed modest blue cornflowers and the rare, exotically shaped flowers of the white horse chestnut. Fewer than five saplings of this recently imported species existed in the empire, making the blooms exceedingly rare.

But the greatest spectacle of the evening was elsewhere. It was Eugène himself. More specifically, he and his companions. The sight of so many people casting glances toward them in unison, sneakily or openly, was more comical than anyone could have imagined.

They were eager to see how Eugène had come to attend the banquet in the Marquis La Baille’s company, yet given how delicate the Marquis family’s affairs were, no one dared approach and instead lingered nervously at a distance. The only ones seemingly indifferent to their arrival were the young princes and princesses, boredly tapping their feet.

“This is rather uncomfortable.”

Young Lord Vallienne, who had arrived at the banquet hall before them, betrayed a slight unease at the constant attention. Just turned twenty-seven, he was a handsome young man with intelligent black eyes and had recently become one of the most talked-about figures in court.

He was said to have inherited the striking looks of his father, and indeed, he was very attractive, with a character both earnest and upright, easily earning the goodwill of those around him.

Still, for a young nobleman whose social life had consisted mostly of minor, small-scale interactions, he lacked the experience to handle such overwhelming scrutiny. Unlike the other two, who had long since grown accustomed to the public gaze, Young Lord Vallienne’s tension and anxiety were palpable, almost tangible.

And it was hardly surprising. Until recently, he had been a perfectly ordinary noble who had a distinguished heritage but little inheritance, and of negligible standing in high society.

His father had been the third son of a Count, gifted in appearance but quite impecunious, with nearly all the household’s income coming from the dowry his mother had brought in. When he came of age and joined the Imperial Army, the funds that enabled him to secure a commission had come not from the paternal estate but from his maternal family.

“From now on, you must become accustomed to such attention.”

Like a mother hen brooding over her chick, the Marquis calmly offered this advice, keeping the inexperienced young nephew close at hand. Young Lord Vallienne tugged subtly at the knot of his tightly fastened cravat and let out a small sigh.

“I was taught that it is poor manners to glance sideways when speaking to someone, yet apparently that does not hold true at court.”

“Of course not. When the rarest of fortunate souls stands right before their eyes, how could it be otherwise? Here is a living person whose fate is about to change dramatically before them. Imagine how thrilling that spectacle must be. If they could, they would pull out opera glasses and sit in the front row to watch.”

“…I do not wish to consider my youngest uncle’s death a stroke of luck, Uncle.”

“That is a good attitude. But it would be best to refrain from speaking such thoughts aloud.”

“Why is that?”

“Not everyone thinks as you do. Those who hear your words will not read humility, but hypocrisy.”

The Marquis La Baille’s firm reply cast a shadow over Young Lord Vallienne’s expression. Eugène observed him closely, reflecting on the scene. As expected, Young Lord Vallienne, despite having seized a stroke of fortune envied by all, did not act recklessly. He did not allow himself to be carried away, and, unlike many young men easily swayed by ambition, he comported himself with notable caution.

He has always had a strong character. And by all indications, his abilities are quite commendable.

Commissioned as a ‘Lieutenant’ in the Imperial Army, he had served with the 3rd Mortar Infantry Regiment and distinguished himself at the Landrienne Campaign, earning enough merit to rise to the rank of ‘Major.’ The fact that he had amassed sufficient reward for a field-grade officer purely on his own merits confirmed that he truly was of the La Baille bloodline. Should the Marquis’s plan come to fruition, the leadership of the Western nobility faction would fall to this young man.