“’Twas in the academy that I have first seen you, and I have been fond of you ever since.”
Ariel whispered. It was her answer to the question Jean could not bring himself to ask. He stilled his breathing.
“You were perusing the book as though you aimed to engrave its words in your mind, but your eyes had no greed in them—I could tell even from far apart. Since that moment, I found myself observing you at every ball and banquet. The late Johnny kept you in his company quite often. In the academy, and in social gatherings.”
“You have seen me before the ball in that winter, I assume.”
“Of course. That momentary emotion would not have sufficed for me to be your sponsor, who had waited and anticipated for you for so long. I have known you much long before, my lord. Albeit, my old self then had not sought to prolong our acquaintanceship, nor did I foresee that it would be possible.”
Ariel finished her sentence with a spirited manner of speech. Jean recalled the memory of his young self, reading in the academy library. With every question asked and answer made, the truth was revealing itself, peeling off its layers one by one. Ariel was not lying. She had sure evidence—the letters he had sent, the vivid recollection of memory, and the pearls that had found their previous owner.
“...Then, may I ask what impelled you to take action on that day?”
There was not a possibility that she was not the Pearl, and she had no reason to feel compelled to lie. Yet, Jean found himself continuing to test her truthfulness, like a skeptic disciple doubting the Resurrection of the Holy One. She must have noticed it, for her eyes turned to slits.
“Well,” Ariel began, nodding with her hand placed under her chin, “let us say that I found a catamite who would take a slap in the face and peril his life to rescue another’s far nobler than an aristocrat who would choose to hold his tongue when all he could lose was his honor and reputation.”
That concluded their private conversation, for Lady Ariel, the eldest daughter of the Count of Baden, wished to speak to Jean as one of the leaders of the revolutionaries. She had knowledge of everything that was happening. She was also aware of the recent affairs of the Grand Duke’s army. She was, indeed, the heir to the count, resuming the affairs her aged father could not take on. She laughed jovially, wondering how Jean and his brethren had planned such a scheme without enticing the House of Baden to support their cause. Her tone was cheerful, but it was evident that she was mocking.
“Upon the commencement of the deed, we shall shut the gates of the fortress ahead. We would inform the army that we must consult with the Grand Duke. I surmise it would serve as a sufficient justification to keep them within the domain. Surely, other counts would do the same, and therefore, it would not be challenging to employ such a strategy. However, I hope for a legitimate cause to arise for us to strike the Grand Duke’s army before much time passes.”
Ariel laid out the map before them and roughly explained the strategy. She was telling Jean that whatever happened in the Royal Palace, the army of the Grand Duke would not be able to progress further north through the gates of the Fortress of Baden and make its way back to the capital. Jean’s Little Pearl had not lied to him after all—not only was she prepared for the turn of the new world, but she was also the one with the power to usher its emergence, even while her person was bound by a corset, inconvenienced by the weight of a mere decorative garment.
“...As is common with most counts, I have been told that the House of Baden has been a particularly loyal count to the royals of Joachim since its appointment as the Count of the Southern Border.”
And so, Jean was forced to ask this question. He knew that the mistrust laden in the inquiry was no different from blasphemy committed against his Little Pearl. However, it was an assurance he had to confirm prior, for without it, affairs could turn most perilous.
“It was, and it still is.”
Ariel made an answer, her tone composed. Outside, the sun was setting.
“A new world and its new way would make their advance, and as long as we tread upon Joachim’s soil, Baden shall stand to guard it. Baden shall safeguard the people, the culture, and the art of this land, for such is the duty ordained upon this house, and upon myself.”
Jean stared for long at the countenance of the lady who had spoken so forth. Gazing upon the face that he had dreamed of for so many years, a feeling of inexplicable emptiness rose in him. Perhaps it was brought forth by the baffling dream he had had right before. Had he not been so drunk with that particular dream that he had momentarily lost sight of the reality?
“The House of Baden is a loyal subject of Joachim, not of the power that reigns over it.”
Ariel mumbled with a smile. Her eyes gazed into the distance, just as Jean’s had. She spoke as though she were recalling a memory.
“It was said to me by someone I hold of great respect, and it is also the words I live by.”
Their discourse ended briefly. Only after a long while was Jean able to bring himself to speak. He informed the lady of several matters that required discussion in a formal and distant tone. He, too, was staring in the air, searching for the face of someone that kept appearing in his mind.
Their conversation ended much later, and it was on the morning of the morrow that Jean left the residence of the House of Francis, bidding Lady Baden farewell, promising his next visit. Jean had anticipated through all the years that should he meet la Petite Perle, he would not be able to refrain himself from jumping up and down like a madman. Yet, his heart was most calm, keeping its usual beat, and neither was his breathing disturbed by any excitement. Everything felt so calm. So very calm.