The Wisteria Salon
Ferdinand was momentarily taken aback. Theodore’s question had skipped over several steps he had anticipated.
Silence settled over the study. Ferdinand opened his mouth twice, only to close it again. Theodore’s gaze, fixed upon him, was steady and intense. It was clear that he was not a man to be persuaded by evasive answers.
Ferdinand let out a light sigh and relaxed his posture.
“My, my… I would have been quite flustered if I hadn’t been warned in advance.”
“Warned?”
“That the Count of Lutgarth is not the type of man to weigh Schwaben and Klaus on a scale to see which tips the balance.”
Speaking frankly was, of course, far easier than using political rhetoric to gauge one another. However, from Ferdinand’s perspective—not knowing Theodore well—there was a lingering doubt as to whether it was truly wise to be so open.
Yet, he felt he could trust him. Theodore’s question was one befitting a head of a house responsible for his family’s fate. For a lord to involve himself in an endeavor with no future was foolish and irresponsible.
Conversely, Ferdinand was certain that if he could show there was a future, Theodore would gladly take his hand. That was all Theodore wanted to confirm—without calculating the price the Duke of Klaus could pay him or the power he might gain should they succeed.
Ferdinand spoke honestly.
“I do not believe the term ‘successor’ is appropriate, but there is someone to whom the Duke of Klaus wishes to bequeath everything.”
Theodore tilted his head slightly.
“Are you not going to tell me who that person is?”
“It is not my place to say. In truth, I did not send this letter to the Count of Lutgarth as an official representative; it just so happens that my secretary has a connection to your aide.”
“But surely, Count Zeppelin, you must hold a very important position?”
“I am merely his hands and feet.”
Ferdinand spoke with humility, but being the hands and feet of the Duke of Klaus was a position of immense weight.
However, Theodore’s questions only grew. If the Duke of Klaus had an heir, there was no reason he couldn’t say so. Even if it wasn’t someone to inherit the title, if there was a political successor, it would be advantageous to reveal their identity.
“But I cannot simply tell you to go back to the Count and wait for contact. I will give you this.”
Ferdinand handed him a beautifully decorated envelope. Theodore took it and examined the front and back. The sender’s name was displayed.
Lady Laila
It appeared to be an invitation. The stiff texture of the card could be felt through the envelope.
“I understand.”
He tucked it into his inner jacket pocket and stood up. He wondered if it was necessary to be so secretive, but since he did not know what was happening beneath the surface, he could not say much else.
“Thank you for your hospitality, despite my sudden, unannounced visit.”
“Not at all. I am the one who sent a rather rude letter, so I am grateful for your understanding. We shall meet again in another setting soon.”
“I look forward to that time.”
The two shook hands once more.
Theodore pulled his hat low and stepped out of the study. Then, he and Jan vanished into the dark streets.
12. The Night Salon
Theodore was somewhat flustered to find that the date on the invitation he received from Ferdinand was for the very next day. He hurriedly had his aides gather information, but there was no time to dig into the details.
“The owner of the salon is a lady who has recently become very famous in high society. It is said that even before she began hosting salons at the Duke of Klaus’s estate, she already had a reputation among art enthusiasts.”
“She is a great beauty from the Principality of Lanier. A relative of the House of Andex.”
“She appears to be quite wealthy. The theater troupe she owns recently had a massive hit, so she must have earned even more.”
Theodore muttered.
“It is certain that she has deep ties to the Duke of Klaus, and since the House of Andex is also a royalist faction, she must be an ally.”
“Are you going to go?”
Jan asked with a worried face.
Unless the host is someone like the Empress, a salon is not a suitable place for the Count of Lutgarth to make his first appearance in high society. Even if it is held at the Duke of Klaus’s estate.
Theodore read the invitation once more. It was anonymous.
“It’s strange. To send salon invitations anonymously.”
Unlike a banquet, a salon is a private gathering, small in scale, where the status and reputation of the attendees are paramount. Such gatherings carefully select guests according to the theme and do not admit strangers. Only then can they instill a sense of privilege in the few attendees who were ‘chosen,’ forming a consensus and strengthening mutual solidarity.
The pride and favor of high-status attendees are the greatest privileges a salon owner can possess. An anonymous invitation effectively abandons that effect.
Jan said.
“It seems about half of the invitations were sent anonymously. They say the scale is quite large, too. I suspect there will be at least a hundred people.”
“At that scale, it is closer to a banquet than a salon. I will attend.”
“But, Theodore.”
“The Count of Zeppelin wouldn’t have given me this invitation without a reason. Since it is not an official banquet, I might be able to go without being noticed.”
It was somewhat unpleasant to have things move like a riddle, but if the other side deemed it necessary, there was no choice. He had asked a question, and this was their answer. He could not emotionally push it aside without checking it first.
***
The next evening.
The side door of the Duke of Klaus’s estate leading to the Wisteria Annex was wide open, and a dozen carriages were lined up in front of it.
Neat-looking valets opened the carriage doors and handed each guest a purple wisteria flower lantern made of paper. The invitations were checked, but no names were called.
As the guests who received the lanterns walked along the garden path where wisteria flowers hung, it looked as if a procession of flowers was walking. Even though it wasn’t fully lit like a flashy banquet, nor were there dangling sparkling glass ornaments, it was beautiful enough; it felt more like being buried in that world than being treated with something precious.
Theodore stepped out of his carriage alone. He thought it would be less conspicuous to come alone rather than bringing aides or guards.
And his prediction was correct. The valet only checked his invitation and handed him a lantern, asking nothing else.
He walked slowly along the path. The conversation of the guests ahead, laughing and chatting, reached his ears.
“As expected of Lady Laila. There is nothing she does that is disappointing.”
“Luna will appear today, right? It’s not a play, but she said there would be musical performances.”
“Lady Zilke should be very nervous now. She seemed to ignore Lady Laila, thinking she wasn’t her match, but now they will have to compete over whose salon is the best.”
Feeling as though he were eavesdropping, Theodore frowned slightly. But thanks to that, he understood one thing.
‘I suppose she called it a salon instead of a banquet on purpose to compete with Lady Zilke.’
He knew the name Lady Zilke. Seven years ago, when Theodore entered the university in the capital, she was already a famous figure with the most prestigious salon in high society.
The reputation of a salon is directly linked to the reputation of its owner. The woman named Lady Laila likely chose to send anonymous invitations to grow her salon all at once. Because it is not easy to make a small gathering a place everyone aspires to visit.
At the entrance of the Wisteria Annex, a valet took his lantern. There, Theodore met someone who asked for his identity for the first time.
“I am Theodore Lutgarth.”
“A gentleman from the House of Lutgarth. Thank you for coming.”
An elderly noblewoman, who addressed him without using his title, greeted him with a face devoid of any agitation. Theodore looked at her with interest. It was because he felt a sense of familiarity from her.
Could she be an old retainer of the Duke of Klaus?
But there was no way he could know her. The only time he was in the capital was from the age of eighteen to twenty-one, while he was in university, and he had never set foot in high society back then.