A light and gentle melody danced through the atmosphere of the room, swirling like a pleasant breeze to the ears of the few guests present. Their laughter and loud voices carried out into the night, as the balcony windows stood wide open to the gardens. One figure, distant from the surrounding clamor, had secluded himself near the balustrade, a glass of champagne in hand, his gaze lost in the distance.

Another shadow emerged in the doorway frame, stretching with the twilight's light. It approached and draped an arm around the neck of its counterpart, who withdrew as though touched by a searing ember.

"Célestin, called the man with the blond hair who had been rebuffed, do not isolate yourself like a forsaken soul. Come and join us."

- Very kind of you, retorted the gentleman named Célestin, but I must decline your offer, Jean.

- For what reasons? Our dear friend the Archduke will not arrive until tomorrow morning, insisted the viscount, sipping his glass of red wine, there is no need to languish, rather, take joy in the present!

- With all the friendship I owe you, I must again decline your offer, the young count politely rebutted.

- As you wish, dear friend Célestin. Take your time to join us when you feel so inclined," urged Monsieur de La Hagne before readjusting his monocle and returning inside.

The young man sighed heavily as his friend departed, finding himself once more alone under the now nocturnal sky. The stars twinkled softly in the celestial voute while the moon cast a faint light upon the ground.

Eventually, the noble reconsidered, the cool night breeze urging him to return to the salon, where candles served as the source of illumination, placed on immense candelabras.

"Célestin, you look so glum, observed a woman with dark hair, dressed in a long red gown, holding a fan, with pearls gathered in her coiffure.

- I am aware, Dame Anne, Jean had already mentioned it, replied the count, reaching for another glass of champagne.

- How picturesque you are, dear friend, laughed the marquise, as the count rolled his eyes and shrugged, before refocusing on the other person, but Célestin, what is troubling you so and making you so morose?

- It is nothing, Dame Anne, nothing within your power to remedy, sighed his interlocutor while gazing at the liquor in his crystal goblet, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.

- It is surely connected with Monsieur de Foreloin's absence, giggled the noble with the blond hair.

- Oh, Monsieur de La Hagne, do not be so cheeky, chimed the woman as the viscount received a scowl from his peer.

- I swear to speak only the truth and nothing but the truth, dear lady, promised the viscount.

- The truth that emerges only to the sweet sound of wine, retorted Célestin, how many glasses have you had, my dear?

- Alas, my friend, I believe arithmetic was never my strong suit, declared the blond, draining his glass, nevertheless, what I do know is that this will not be the last."

The two other nobles smiled in amusement at their companion's comedic antics. The arrival of a servant interrupted them, announcing the arrival of two additional guests, as the marquise invited them in.

"Madame the Archduchess, Célestin bowed politely, followed by Jean, of a rank above theirs, and Mademoiselle de Miraline.

- Good evening, gentlemen and madam, greeted Marie amiably, her long chestnut hair cascading over her shoulders, please forgive us for our late arrival.

- It is of no matter, Marie, excused the hostess of the evening, Madame de Rubis, were there not more pressing matters to attend to?"

Her final words were spoken with a more mocking and playful tone. At this remark, the Archduchess smiled with mischief.

"The absence of my husband allows me to squander his fortune, she ironized, and to revel in his wealth.

- Are they dedicated to the presents?, speculated the viscount with a smile, Mademoiselle de Miraline seems well-prepared for the fortune she enjoys.

- Madame de Foreloin is so generous with me, I do not know how to thank her, blushed the young lady, embarrassed.

- Oh, but I believe we all know how you repay her favors, remarked the noble with the blond hair mischievously.

Oh! Jean! Really! Such manners!" protested Anne with a playful smile on her face.

Célestin cleared his throat to divert the conversation, while the two ladies took their seats on the sofas, accompanied by the marquise.

"Attend to your sole love instead, my friend, replied the count simply in a restrained tone.

- I have but one love, the wine, my dear," agreed Jean as he poured himself another glass.

His declaration had the merit of amusing the rest of the assembly, who burst into laughter.

The evening proceeded in a more convivial tone, with guests enjoying the warm atmosphere and sharing various anecdotes.

"Monsieur de Nollimé is a wretched singer. For, the last time he tried to praise His Majesty the King, a magpie fell on his head, hahaha!, laughed the viscount.

- Indeed, Monsieur de La Hagne, added the Archduchess, everyone knows that the dear baron sings his praises only by night, in His Majesty's chamber.

- Oh, Marie, how naughty you are!, observed the marquise with amusement.

- It is my daily practice, hummed the latter, causing the young duchess to blush with embarrassment.

- You display a certain mischief; has Gabriel had an effect on you?, inquired Madame de Rubis mischievously.

- Oh heavens! May the gods bear witness, no thank you.

- One is sufficient, my dear; another would be too much, retorted the blond with amusement, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

- My dear Célestin, resumed Anne, will you do us the honor of narrating one of your entertaining fables?"

The count lifted his gaze from his teacup, emerging from the silence in which he had immersed himself.

"Indeed, if it is your wish, Madame the marquee, I can only comply," he accepted before rising.

He positioned himself before the other guests, clearing his throat, ready to begin his fable.

However, he was interrupted by the arrival of a servant bearing important news.

"Madame the marquee, pardon the interruption, but Monsieur de Foreloin has just arrived.

- Monsieur de Foreloin? At this hour of the night?, queried the latter in surprise.

- It is indeed late, confirmed the viscount suddenly rising as well, allow me to take my leave, my dear, and wish you a pleasant night.

- Likewise, Madame the marquise, declared the Archduchess, it is time for us to return home, though I thank you for your warm hospitality.

- It is most unfortunate, sighed Anne, however, I would not wish to detain you any longer than necessary.

- Dame Anne, suddenly resumed the fabulist, I shall recount one of my fables to you another time.

- With pleasure, my dear Célestin," agreed the Marquise.

Everyone rose and wished each other a good evening, retrieving their woolen coats to face the biting winter chill.

"My dear Célestin, spoke the Archduchess abruptly, tell my husband that I prefer to spend the night in better company than his."

The count turned toward the young woman, wrapped in his coat.

"What do you mean?", he inquired, surprised.

Before he could elaborate, the Archduchess gave a slight nod and took the Duchess's hand, departing in a carriage.

"Célestin," called a familiar, smooth, and deep voice.

The named turned toward the direction, his eyes widening at the sight of the familiar figure approaching him.

"Gabriel, you have returned earlier than expected, the young count whispered softly, with mist forming with each of his breaths.

- I hurried back to dispel the sorrows of your soul, he murmured, drawing closer to the other noble.

- They vanished the moment you appeared, replied Célestin with a gentle smile.

- Flatterer, my dear, whispered the Archduke, standing before him, towering with his height, do not remain idle in the snow. Would it please you to spend the night in my castle?

- Will you keep me company?, asked the count, leaning against the taller man.

- Only if you wish, his counterpart agreed, taking his hand and entwining their fingers, will you follow me?

- With pleasure," accepted the young man, allowing himself to be guided to the waiting carriage.

The vehicle departed from the residence, disappearing into the misty fog and vanishing beneath the dancing snowflakes, under a nocturnal sky illuminated only by the pale light of the moon, lighting their path home.