The sumptuous room was bathed in a soft light filtering through pale silk curtains adorned with delicate floral patterns. The walls, covered with paneling painted in soft shades of cream and sky blue, were embellished with gilded moldings and panels framing bucolic scenes, characteristic of the Rococo style.

At the center of the room stood the bed, featuring a majestic carved wooden canopy, draped with silk damask in tones of ivory and gold. The richly embroidered bed curtains gracefully hung around the structure, creating an intimate and luxurious cocoon. The fine linen bedding was adorned with delicate embroidery, while several plush cushions added comfort and opulence. Beside the bed, a small yet elegant varnished wooden nightstand held a drawer for storing personal items. A golden candlestick with melted candles rested on its delicate marble top. Nearby, atop a white marble fireplace, a small mahogany clock continued to mark the passage of time, its hands moving with a faint repetitive "tick-tick" over its white enamel frame surrounded by a finely sculpted golden ring.

Facing the bed stood a large solid wood wardrobe, richly carved with floral motifs. Its curved doors were adorned with chiseled bronze handles, and its elegantly curved feet highlighted the harmony of the lines. Inside, the wardrobe housed sumptuous garments, carefully folded or hung. Near the window, a vanity of exquisite delicacy was placed. The piece of furniture was adorned with fine marquetry, depicting floral motifs and arabesques. The marble top was scattered with small crystal perfume bottles, ivory brushes, and porcelain pots containing powders and ointments. An oval mirror, framed in gilded wood, topped the vanity, reflecting the natural light and adding a touch of lightness to the ensemble. On the other side, near the fireplace, a six-panel screen stretched comfortably like a golden rainbow. Leaning against the wall, an imposing chest of drawers stood, its three drawers adorned with finely sculpted golden bronze handles. A large mirror in a gilded wooden frame overlooked the chest of drawers, reflecting the entire room and adding a sense of space and light. The drawers were neatly organized with nightclothes, silk gloves, and precious accessories. Under the bed, a large wool rug with floral patterns extended slightly, offering a warm contrast to the polished wooden floor. Its deep tones of red, green, and gold added a touch of comfort and elegance to the room. The space exuded both opulence and refinement, allowing for pleasant comfort during sleep.

Thus, the same rays of sunlight filtered through the opaque curtains of the large windows, gently tickling and warming the face of the figure asleep in the vast double bed. His eyelids slowly opened as his mind left the world of dreams and returned to reality. The young man regained consciousness and placed his hand before him to shield himself from the blinding light. He eventually turned over before sitting up, pushing away the warm and soft sheets, stretching his arms in a somewhat ungraceful gesture. He rubbed his face in frustration, his heart urging him to remain on this floating cloud while his reason encouraged him to get up. In the end, he listened to his reason and climbed out of bed, placing his foot on the plush rug, savoring the pleasant sensation for a moment. He cast a final glance behind him, vaguely noting that the other person who had occupied the bed had already left to tend to their affairs, then turned his gaze away and moved towards the refined wooden chest of drawers, grabbing a chiseled bronze handle to pull it towards him. He retrieved a few fresh clothes, eager to exchange his nightshirt for more appropriate attire, before closing the drawer. Holding them in hand, he moved to change behind the opaque screen.

Once dressed in his day attire, a long jacket known as a justaucorps, tailored from sumptuous blue silk brocade that extended down to his knees, the aristocrat took a moment to feel the fabric of his top to gauge its quality. It was embroidered with delicate floral motifs in gold and silver thread, outlining the seams and edges with intricate arabesques. The sleeves were wide and adorned with lace cuffs, revealing the finely worked cuffs of the white linen shirt he wore underneath. The nobleman also tightened the precious lace cravat around his neck, which peeked slightly out of the collar of his shirt. His breeches, cut just below the knee, were made from the same blue fabric as the justaucorps, tailored to flatter his silhouette. They were held in place by ribbons or golden buckles, adding another touch of luxury. Lastly, the young man pulled up his white silk stockings to smooth them out and secured them under his knee with blue satin ribbon garters. He then slipped on low-heeled black polished leather shoes, adorned with finely chiseled gold or silver buckles.

After this rather lengthy dressing process, the nobleman walked over to the mirror above the chest of drawers, admiring for a moment the reflection it offered him, before grabbing a brush from the vanity and carefully brushing his slightly curly chestnut hair. He then took a pale blue ribbon and tied it at the bottom of his hair, which cascaded down his back, in a bow. Pleased with the final result, the young lord emerged from the bedroom, following a well-known path through the maze of hallways familiar to him, with a few maids bowing as he passed by. After descending the white marble staircase, the aristocrat finally reached his desired destination: the kitchen. Normally reserved for staff and seldom visited by nobles, he was an exception. Quickly crossing the room, he stealthily grabbed a cucumber before returning to the hall. Although some of the staff witnessed the discreet theft of the vegetable, none made any comments.

As for the man, he was heading towards the double entrance doors, eagerly biting into the cucumber, when he was interrupted.

"Monsieur de La Source, the castle's head butler called out to him, Monsieur the Archduke of Foreloin has a favor to ask of you.

- Oh... Um... Of course, agreed the count, shamefully hiding the cucumber behind his back.

- Would it be possible for you to deliver these files to the Temple of Our-Lady?, the butler inquired, handing a stack of papers to the nobleman.

- Certainly, Robert, the fabulist reluctantly agreed, not particularly thrilled about delaying his morning plans, as he took the file in one arm, the other still carefully holding onto his morning snack.

- Thank you, Monsieur", the butler sincerely thanked him.

The count modestly nodded before turning on his heels. Just as two servants were opening the doors, Robert spoke up again.

"Have a pleasant day, Monsieur. And by the way, Monsieur de Foreloin will be expecting you for lunch at his hotel. The coachman will take you there when the time comes, he informed him.

- Thank you, Robert. I'll be there on time, at exactly noon. Please pass the message to Gabriel," Célestin declared before finally stepping out of the Archduke's residence.

He walked along the gravel paths, taking in the natural and pleasant scenery that unfolded before his eyes while enjoying the fresh vegetable. At the end of his journey through the gardens, he finally reached the gate with its iron bars that separated him from the rest of the world. A carriage was already waiting for him, with two black horses and the coachman checking the harness along with another servant. The young nobleman took a moment to consider the carriage, both grand yet discreet, before sighing in resignation. He approached and greeted the coachman with a nod as a servant opened the door for him. Embarrassed by the formalities, Célestin hastily climbed into the cabin and settled on the soft cushions. The carriage finally set off, and the young man finished his impromptu meal while enjoying the view outside, admiring the country roads and the dense forest they traversed on their way to Paris.

Soon, his destination came into view, and the count closed his eyes, anxiously anticipating his arrival at the Temple. Although he was a believer and acknowledged the existence of the gods, he could not adhere to the religious principles imposed by the Temple on its followers, so he only occasionally visited temples to deliver documents. As the carriage continued to roll on, Célestin let his gaze wander over the architecture of the capital's buildings, silently contemplating the facades made of blonde limestone, adorned with delicate moldings framing the windows and doors. His vision shifted to the ground floor, slightly set back, featuring large arcades housing shops with wrought iron signs. Looking closer, it was also possible to spot small black wrought iron balconies, intricately designed with scrollwork and arabesques, above each window. These tall, narrow windows were made of small panes and framed with wooden shutters painted in soft tones, often pearl gray or pale green, and topped with frontons adorned with sculpted shells or floral motifs, in the Rococo style. The building rose several stories high, generally between three and four, forcing the count to lift his head if he wanted to glimpse the red tile roofs.

"At least, Célestin thought, still watching with amusement the buildings passing by, thanks to Baron Haussvann, the buildings look better, though I think they could have been perfected. Well, it is only 1717 after all..."

He snapped out of his thoughts when the pearly white facade of a temple appeared before him. He sighed yet again before stepping down from the carriage as it came to a halt. In front of him stood two monumental dark wooden doors, carved with religious motifs representing the deities of this world. On either side of these doors, towering Gothic stained glass windows rose, filtering colored light that bathed the temple's interior in a mystical atmosphere. These stained glass windows, vibrant in color, depicted iconic figures of the religion, showing scenes of battle or representations of the gods. The young noble took a deep breath before approaching the front of the building. This structure also featured Doric columns of white stone, supporting a triangular pediment adorned with mythological sculptures. However, above this classical pediment, two Gothic spires reached toward the sky, pierced by delicate stone rosettes.

Crossing through the two grand doors that opened before him, the interior of the Temple of Notre-Âme was revealed to him. The main nave, dizzyingly tall, was supported by fluted columns inspired by Greek temples. Yet these columns extended into Gothic arches that soared towards ribbed vaults. The marble floor, decorated with geometric patterns and rosettes reminiscent of ancient mosaics, contrasted with the gray stone walls that seemed to absorb the light in a play of shadows and contrasts typical of the Gothic style. At the center of the temple stood a pure marble altar, adorned with bas-reliefs inspired by Greek art, depicting scenes of sacrifices and ancient rituals. Behind this altar, a gigantic Gothic rose window captured the sunlight, its colored glass casting reflections of purple, gold, and blue onto the marble floor.

However, Célestin paid little heed to this mystical spectacle and continued on his way, passing through rows of cushions and prayer benches as he made his way toward the priest in charge of the place, who stood away from the main hall. The priest, seen in profile, wore a long white robe adorned with black lotus motifs symmetrically spaced along either side of a black line that ran from top to bottom, while his blonde, braided hair rested over his shoulder, falling to his hip, and his eyelids remained closed as he conversed with another man. When Célestin reached him, the cleric interrupted his conversation to turn slightly toward him and greet him amicably:

"Good day, my friend. How may I help you?

- Good day, Priest Henri. I am Célestin de La Source, the aristocrat hastily introduced himself, My presence here is justified by my role as a messenger. I bring important documents from the Archduke of Foreloin.

- The Archduke?, his interlocutor repeated, his eyelids opening slightly and narrowing, allowing a glimpse of his blue eyes, as a thin smile crossed his face, Ah, I see. Monsieur de La Source, you may hand me the papers. You can inform Monsieur de Foreloin that his package will be ready shortly.

- I... Very well," the count conceded simply.

He handed the papers to the priest, who took them in his arms, then retrieved a simple piece of paper. He then politely nodded to both clerics before turning on his heel to leave the place.

"May Archéon bless you, Monsieur de La Source. Have an excellent day," Henri called out to him from a distance.

Célestin merely gave another vague nod before stepping through the door to find himself outside again, hastening to climb back into the carriage to leave the place that made him uncomfortable.

He cast a final glance back, watching the bell tower of the Temple of Notre-Âme fade into the distance as the carriage moved forward. Finally, the young man turned away from the view and preferred to close his eyes, letting his mind and imagination wander, finding himself surprisingly dreaming of strawberries and blueberries. He emerged from his daydreaming as he noticed that the carriage was arriving at its destination. Once more, he stepped down from it as the coachman departed to feed the horses. As for Célestin, he entered the noble hotel, greeted by servants who led him to the lounge. A familiar figure was already seated and rose as he approached, moving closer to him. This man, with long black hair framing his tanned complexion and bringing out the emerald green of his eyes, was dressed similarly to Célestin, though his attire was in darker shades, decorated with threads of gold.

"Célestin, I thought for a moment you had abandoned me, the archduke complained dramatically.

- Come now, Gabriel... For what reason would I decline your invitation? The meals you prepare for me are always delightful, and your company is most enjoyable, Célestin responded, blushing.

- Ooh, Célestin, how flattering you are, the taller nobleman chuckled. Allow me to escort you to my table.

- With pleasure, my dear Gabriel," the count gladly accepted, his cheeks flushing.

The archduke took his counterpart's arm and led him to the famed table. It was long and adorned with immaculate white damask cloths, decorated with gleaming silver or vermeil pieces, and bouquets of fresh flowers carefully arranged. The fine porcelain tableware displayed delicate hand-painted patterns, while the Baccarat crystal glasses captured the candlelight with brilliance.

He released the young count's arm before pulling out the chair, inviting him to sit.

"How gallant of you, Célestin teased gently as he took his seat beside his partner, who sat at the head of the table.

- Only for you, my dear," the other man cooed sweetly.

The chestnut-haired man rolled his eyes in amusement as his companion also took his place.

"What are we having for lunch?, the young man asked eagerly.

- Oh, Célestin, it's a surprise," Gabriel sang out, whistling.

Célestin pouted before resigning himself to wait. Fortunately for him, and much to his delight, the servants promptly entered with the first course, served in large silver tureens. It consisted of various soups, ranging from clear and fragrant poultry consommé, sometimes garnished with dumplings or small pieces of poultry, to vegetable soup thickened with cream. Cold appetizers, such as pâtés, terrines, or finely seasoned salads, could also be placed on the table.

After this first course, enjoying the delicious food offered to him as well as the archduke's incessant chatter, the second course arrived. This consisted of entrées, becoming a veritable festival of refined meats and roasted poultry. Game dishes, such as partridges or pheasants, were accompanied by rich, complex sauces made with wine, mushrooms, or truffles. Among all these dishes, some included rare fish, like turbot or pike, cooked to perfection and served with fresh herbs. Here, in contrast to Gabriel, Célestin merely picked at a few pieces of meat, despite the archduke's insistence on shamelessly placing more food on his plate.

"Gabriel, please, have mercy, pleaded the poor count with a sorrowful expression, My stomach cannot possibly handle all that's on my plate!

- Célestin, I am perfectly aware that you are waiting for the third course to indulge in the vegetables. However, the meat is essential for your body, his companion explained seriously.

- You know that I often despise poultry, the count insisted, In that case, give me some beef or pork instead.

- How commanding you are, my dear," teased the other nobleman as he passed the dishes, earning a mere dark glare from the chestnut-haired man.

Taking advantage of his companion's distraction, Gabriel discreetly poured white wine into the other's glass upon noticing the presence of fish on his plate. Célestin rolled his eyes and took a sip of the wine, savoring it alongside the sole in beurre blanc, using white bread to accompany his meal.

Nevertheless, it did not take long for the two nobles to move on to the third course, dedicated to roasted and grilled meats. A stuffed capon and a veal roast, both bathed in a rich and creamy sauce, were placed on the table, surrounded by sautéed vegetables such as petits pois à la française, spinach gratin, and butter-glazed carrots. The white wine gave way to red wine to complement the meats. Alongside the meats, many vegetables were added to the course, especially since the previous king had realized that they contributed to better health, including zucchini and turnip gratin, vinaigrette salad, grilled artichokes, squash purée, and even pumpkin with celery cream.

"And of course, Célestin, the archduke added, noticing his companion's slightly disappointed expression, your favorite dish."

Célestin looked at him quizzically until the awaited dish was brought and placed before him. His eyes lit up, with stars seemingly dancing in his irises, at the sight of these magnificent gratin potatoes, covered in cream and parsley, resting in a bronze gratin dish. A servant began carving the meat while another served the tubers.

"Gabriel! You know how to please me!, exclaimed an overjoyed Célestin.

- Come now, Célestin, it's thanks to you that I got to taste these delicious parmentiers," the archduke replied with amusement.

The young count wasted no time, savoring the potatoes with delight, soaking them in the creamy sauce of the meat, reveling in the undeniable taste of this food, both crispy and tender, sliding across the palate with incomparable smoothness.

"Indeed, Célestin, it seems the parmentiers bring you great joy," the other noble remarked with a light laugh.

The young count nodded vigorously at these words, finishing his bite before continuing:

"Gabriel, you cannot comprehend the depth of my love for these parmentiers. Moreover... they make me nostalgic...

- Oh? Truly? Did you eat them in your youth? Though you are not so old, my dear, inquired the archduke with a smile.

- Hmm... In all honesty, yes. During my childhood, I often roamed the fields and became well-acquainted with the peasants of our county of Meurne, in the region of La Creuse. That's how I learned to appreciate vegetables in their rawest form, the young man recounted with melancholy.

- Does that explain your passion for stealing my carrots and cucumbers to snack on in secret?, Gabriel asked mischievously.

- I... Well... Hmm... And it was through a bourgeois, a certain Parmatier, that I had the honor of tasting what he calls tubers, the count continued, gracefully ignoring his companion's question, Since then, I introduced them to my family, and surprisingly, word reached the king through your intermediary. Moreover, we discovered that this remarkable tuber had the ability to survive the harshest winters by staying underground. Thanks to Monsieur Parmatier, the peasants on our lands have been able to nourish themselves better.

- Indeed, the archduke agreed with a nod.

- And you, Gabriel? How was your youth?, the fabulist inquired as he sliced a piece of meat with his cutlery before eating it.

- Me? Hmm... Let's say... I did not have as free a childhood as yours, Célestin, his companion began, softly recalling the past, My family has been loyal to the king for generations, the closest to him in terms of loyalty and fidelity. Thus, I was raised with that in mind. I grew up alongside His Majesty, learning my role as his advisor.

- Gabriel, wait, you... you grew up with His Majesty?, Célestin blurted out, astonished.

- Absolutely, his counterpart confirmed, continuing his story, Although I was educated for this purpose, I had to prove my place beside His Majesty, something I did long ago.

- I understand," the young count conceded, still stunned by the revelation.

As the two nobles continued their conversation, the rest of the lunch was served. Entremets, both savory and sweet, were placed on the table, composed of various dishes such as cheese soufflés, scrambled eggs with truffles, savory tarts, crème brûlées, vanilla flans, and exotic fruit jellies. These offered a pleasant respite amidst the succession of rich and hearty courses.

Finally, the meal concluded with a variety of desserts, offering an explosion of flavors and colors. These included candied fruits, fresh fruit tarts, chocolate éclairs, and delicately scented meringues, mingling with pyramids of macarons and crème anglaise. Homemade jams and fresh fruits such as strawberries, peaches, or figs were often paired with whipped cream and sugar syrup. Other sweets made appearances as well, like nougats, fruit jellies, and more candied fruits. To add a final sweet touch, champagne and liqueurs accompanied the desserts.

"Oh! My guilty pleasure!, the young count exclaimed euphorically, grabbing strawberries and smothering them in whipped cream, drowning them in this sugary lake.

- Célestin, you do have a sweet tooth, remarked the archduke playfully.

- Speak for yourself, my dear; you're always the first to dive into the macarons and meringues, the chestnut-haired man retorted mischievously.

- Ooooh, you wound me, Célestin," his companion smiled, feigning dramatic offense.

However, the count paid no mind and had turned his attention to the delicious fruits, which he was relishing.

In the end, the meal finished on this sweet note, and the conversation between the two nobles gradually came to an end.

"Célestin, this lunch was delightful in your company, the archduke suddenly remarked, wiping the corner of his lips with a silk napkin.

- Indeed, I also had a wonderful time, confirmed the other man with chestnut hair.

- Célestin, by the way, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Marnier Opera tonight?, his companion proposed.

- Truly? Gabriel... I would be deeply flattered, the young count blushed.

- I would be overjoyed if you accepted, my dear, his interlocutor added, taking his hand and bringing it to his lips.

- With pleasure, then," agreed a flustered Célestin.

The other man merely smiled and placed a delicate kiss on his hand.

"And... what play will entertain us?, the fabulist asked, hastily withdrawing his hand, his cheeks burning.

- It will be a surprise, Célestin, the archduke chuckled before finally revealing, However, it's a play by a certain... Volière.

- Oh, Gabriel!, the count exclaimed in astonishment, You... a comedy by Volière! At the Marnier Opera?? I am so moved! I'm absolutely thrilled!"

The young noble barely restrained himself from jumping with excitement, visibly embarrassed by his brief enthusiasm, calming down quickly while his companion stifled a laugh.

"Oh, Célestin, you're even more adorable in this state. Perhaps I should surprise you more often?, De Foreloin cooed with a mischievous smile.

- Mercy, Gabriel, stop your dubious insinuations, I beg you, the young man objected, blushing fiercely before standing up, I must leave you now, however. I need to accompany Jean on his outfit escapade, and then I must visit Lady Anne and my sister. So, if you'll excuse me, I must take my leave.

- How cruel, Célestin, the archduke complained with mock sorrow, To think I must return to His Majesty's side... Well, enjoy your afternoon, my dear. We shall meet again this evening. Don't forget dinner, too.

- Certainly," the aristocrat replied with a gentle smile.

Then, he turned on his heels and left the room, escorted by servants to the carriage that had brought him. It whisked him away toward his destination, the urban landscape passing by as his eyes wandered off into the distance. Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt, pulling Célestin from his lethargy. He quickly regained his composure before stepping out, finding himself in front of a shop with an elegantly adorned facade, its sign bearing the name in golden letters: Le Gentilhomme. Footsteps echoed, drawing the young count out of his reverie, as he spotted a familiar face.

"My dear Célestin! What a pleasure it is that you accepted my invitation, greeted Jean de la Hagne warmly, dressed entirely in white, as he extended his hand.

- I couldn't refuse; you are my friend, Jean, the young man modestly replied, shaking his hand.

- You are so kind, Célestin. I now see why the Court doesn't suit you, remarked the viscount as he released his grip, Well then, shall we go in? I have much to do; I need to find a gown for my sister's birthday.

- How is your sister, by the way, Jean?, asked the chestnut-haired man as the two nobles entered the boutique.

- Oh, well... Still as charming as ever, though terribly busy, much to my dismay, his companion sighed, slipping a gold coin to the shopkeeper as they passed, even though she's only the queen, His Majesty shares some of his duties with her, which takes up even more of her time.

- I'm sorry to hear that, Jean, the count confessed sadly, knowing all too well how hard it was to be separated from one's siblings.

- You can't help it, my friend, his companion replied, gently feeling the fabric of some gowns and adjusting his monocle for a closer look, By the way, what do you think of my hair?

- Doesn't it look... shinier?, guessed the young man, somewhat puzzled.

- Absolutely, confirmed the blond, playfully tossing his ponytail over his shoulder, the latest soap from Massalia is a true masterpiece! You should get some too, Célestin; it would make your hair even silkier than it already is.

- I'm quite content, thank you, the count politely declined, The soap I use for my daily baths suits me perfectly.

- Likewise, the new mint toothpaste works wonders, his companion insisted, flashing a bright smile to reveal his gleaming white teeth, You really should get some.

- That's very kind of you, the chestnut-haired man replied gracefully, I'll keep that in mind.

- As you wish, said the viscount simply before changing the subject, But what do you think of this gown?"

The two nobles continued their conversation, discussing various topics—whether it was the viscount's lament over his sister's absence, the latest fashionable perfumes, or the connection between wealth and one's clothing and hairstyle. After all, the more opulent a person's attire and the longer, better-groomed their hair, the higher their status—save for the royal family, of course.

"Thank you for your valuable advice, Célestin, the blond sincerely expressed as they exited the shop, with servants carrying off the viscount's purchases.

- You're very welcome, Jean; it was a pleasure, the chestnut-haired man smiled.

- However, I must unfortunately take my leave; I have much to attend to at home. Do come visit me soon, La Hagne kindly proposed.

- I shall consider your invitation, Jean, the young man replied spontaneously.

- Very well then, I wish you a pleasant day, Célestin, the viscount said as he climbed into his carriage.

- The same to you," the fabulist responded, watching his friend depart and disappear around the corner of a cobblestone street.

He did not linger there any longer and also boarded his carriage, instructing the coachman to head to his second destination. His thoughts began to wander, conjuring images of strawberries and blueberries, as well as peculiar flowers like poppies and aconites. He only emerged from this daydream when the carriage came to a stop, signaling that he had arrived at his desired location. Once again, he stepped down and entered a familiar house, guided by two servants, only to halt at the bottom of the staircase, surprised by the unexpected arrival of two familiar faces who promptly joined him.

"Oh, Madame de Foreloin and Mademoiselle de Miraline, he greeted politely.

- Good day, Monsieur de La Source, the archduchess replied in kind, What a coincidence to run into you on this beautiful sunny day.

- I'm actually here to bring some tea to Lady Anne, the young count explained.

- I see, we just left her. She must surely be expecting your visit, the young woman added, while the other timidly hid behind her.

- Monsieur de La Source, the younger one suddenly spoke up in a small voice, extending a notebook, surprising both nobles, would it be possible... to get an autograph? I love listening to you narrate your fables...

- Oh, uh, certainly, the count stammered, blushing at the attention as he took the notebook.

- Célestin, be careful. You may have taken my husband, fine, you can keep him, I have little use for him. However, I forbid you from laying a finger on my protégé, the archduchess teased playfully.

- Madame! Please, the thought of stealing your young lady is far from my mind, the fabulist protested lightly, using the quill he always carried with him to sign the notebook, as a servant brought an inkwell.

- I was only jesting, Célestin, Marie giggled, fanning herself with amusement at his reaction, You are so sensitive!"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and simply returned the notebook to the young lady, whose eyes now sparkled with joy. Eventually, the three of them exchanged farewells before parting ways—the two women departing as the count ascended the stairs to join the one who awaited him.

"Lady Anne, he greeted politely as he entered the familiar sitting room.

- Oh, my dear Célestin, you're finally here!, the older woman exclaimed, Please, come sit down.

- That's very kind of you, he replied courteously.

- I hope you don't mind that we are awaiting the arrival of another guest?, the marquise inquired softly as a servant poured tea.

- Not at all, Lady Anne, the nobleman reassured her, bringing his cup to his lips, Besides, I've brought you some English tea.

- Oh, Célestin, you always know how to please me! If the archduke weren't so possessive, I'd have taken you under my wing, declared De Rubis as one of her servants accepted the tea package.

- You exaggerate, Lady Anne. You know I hold a great deal of affection for you, the aristocrat admitted with a discreet smile, I sincerely think of you as a second mother.

- Oh, Célestin, the marquise gushed, you're so sweet, you remind me of my son.

- Really?, the count asked, somewhat taken aback.

- Yes, he's now a grown man of sixteen. But when he was little, he followed me everywhere like a little duckling, the woman smiled nostalgically.

- That must have been quite a sight, the young man chuckled softly.

- After my husband passed away—he was already quite old when we married—I raised that little rascal on my own, the marquise recounted with amusement.

- That must have been difficult, the fabulist sympathized sincerely.

- Not so much, the marquise replied, shaking her head, Even though it was an arranged marriage, and I became a widow early on, I enjoyed complete freedom, especially in raising my son. Many young ladies, unfortunately, do not have that privilege.

- I see...", Célestin murmured, feeling a pang of sadness.

Their conversation continued for some time until the awaited guest finally arrived.

"Jean! You're terribly late, the woman gently scolded him.

- Forgive me, Lady Anne. I had to chase after my wine—it was trying to escape like a little rascal, Jean de La Hagne confessed with a mocking smile, as the hostess rolled her eyes at his extravagant excuse.

- Forgive me as well, Lady Anne, the count interrupted, but I must regretfully take my leave. I have to meet my sister before she returns to our county.

- I understand, Célestin, the noblewoman smiled, I wish you a pleasant evening.

- The same to you, Lady Anne," the chestnut-haired man replied, hastily bidding farewell to his friend Jean as well.

And as the viscount took his seat beside the marquise, the storyteller left Madame de Rubis' residence, boarding the carriage once again to visit the last person on his list before heading to the performance at the Marnier Opera House.

As he stepped down from the carriage once again, having arrived at his destination, a familiar figure leaped into his arms.

"Célestin! My brother! I missed you so much!, she exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

- Rose, my sister, I visited you not long ago. Have you missed me so soon?, the young man asked with an amused smile, gently stroking his sister's hair.

- Terribly!, she pouted, You could have at least warned me of your arrival.

- My apologies, Rose. I was held up longer than expected, the count apologized sheepishly.

- Forget it, those are mere trifles. I'm just happy to see you in good health, brother. Come, let's talk inside, shall we?", his sister suggested.

The fabulist nodded, and his sister led him inside the temporary apartment where she was staying, a residence provided by His Majesty to any noble wishing to stay briefly in the capital.

A long conversation followed, during which they talked about everything and nothing, discussing all the current topics of Paris. By the time the count took his leave of his sister, the sun was setting.

"Come visit me again soon, Célestin, before I return home, Rose urged as the count sat in the carriage.

- I will see to it, sister, the chestnut-haired man replied with a tender smile, Take care while I'm away, and give my regards to our parents if need be.

- I will, brother. Take care of yourself too!", his sister called out, waving as the carriage pulled away.

They exchanged one last wave before the figure of the young woman faded into the distance. Then, he leaned back against the rear seat, allowing his thoughts to wander and his mind to ponder a potential new fable. Without realizing it, he let the monotony of the journey lull him to sleep.

It was a gentle hand resting against his cheek that woke him, pulling him from his state of drowsiness.

"How??, he stammered in surprise before calming down upon noticing the archduke seated near him on the cushions.

- Calm yourself, Célestin, the latter soothed him softly, It's only me.

- Forgive me. I feared it was someone else, the count admitted sheepishly.

- No need to worry, Célestin. The coachman came to inform me, and I hurried as quickly as I could, his companion explained.

- Confess, rather, that you were nearby all along, were you not?, the fabulist retorted, rolling his eyes.

- Very well, I confess, Célestin. I was waiting for you and couldn't bring myself to wake you. You looked so adorable, the taller noble admitted, leaning closer, his hand gently taking hold of the other's chin, locking their gazes.

- I..., the chestnut-haired man stammered, his cheeks flushing so deeply that he resembled the lobster from one of his fables.

- May I, Célestin?, his companion suddenly asked, closing the curtains on both sides with one hand.

- Only if you show restraint..., the young man murmured, his voice barely audible, unable to meet his gaze.

- Certainly," the archduke promised.

And, hidden from the eyes of the world, in that forgotten carriage, their lips met in a union that was both desperate and passionate. The taste of the forbidden and the thrill of transgression drove them to defy rules and societal norms each time, but always with a certain tenderness and infinite love conveyed through that simple gesture. Defying the prohibitions imposed by society, they continued to see each other, and neither of them wished to give up the other for some possible better life after death. If their love was forbidden and condemned by the gods, then they were ready to face the consequences, as long as it allowed them to enjoy a more pleasant life. That's why they sought refuge in each other's arms, granting themselves a moment of tenderness and warmth that belonged only to them.

It was only after some time, and after the archduke had returned to the charge several times, that they were able to pull apart.

"Gabriel, weren't we supposed to attend a performance?, the fabulist asked in a breathless whisper.

- You're absolutely right, my dear Célestin. After all, it's your favorite theater troupe, his companion added with a mischievous laugh.

- And one of which you are the patron, the count grumbled, gently pushing his companion, Now, I urge you, Gabriel, let us be on our way.

- Oh, very well, very well, my dear", his companion agreed with a charming smile.

He then stood up and invited him, after descending from the carriage, by offering him his arm. The count, though embarrassed at first, accepted and slipped his arm under that of his counterpart.

As he was led along by the archduke, Célestin laid his eyes on the exterior of the opera house, admiring it as a true architectural masterpiece. After all, the richly adorned main façade proudly stood on a wide cobblestone square, framed by wrought-iron lampposts and bronze statues. A triangular pediment, supported by white marble Corinthian columns, crowned the building. This pediment was further embellished with mythological reliefs depicting the muses of music and dance, surrounded by floral garlands. At the top of the façade, two large gilded statues crowned the edges of the building. Between them, an imposing dome, covered in weathered copper, loomed over the edifice. This dome, richly sculpted, was surrounded by groups of allegorical sculptures that seemed to move with the wind, capturing the very essence of the performing arts.

The two advanced through a crowd of nobles, heading towards the entrance reserved for them, while the common folk took another. Thus, the large wooden doors, adorned with gilded ironwork, which greeted them, were already open. Above these doors, balconies with marble balustrades opened onto windows with stained glass, casting shimmering lights when the sun's rays passed through them.

As they entered the lobby, with Gabriel taking care to present their tickets, Célestin took the opportunity to admire the entrance once more, always struck by its beauty. It was vast and richly decorated. The polished marble floor formed complex geometric patterns that reflected in the gilded mirrors hanging on the walls. The ceilings were covered with vibrant frescoes depicting mythological scenes or gods from their religion.

At the end of this hall, a grand and majestic double staircase in white and red marble dominated the space. The wrought-iron railings, inlaid with gilded details, led the spectators to the upper levels. The archduke then led him to this staircase, ascending the steps towards one of the adjacent boxes on the first floor, offering the best seats. On either side of this staircase, marble columns supported coffered ceilings adorned with finely sculpted reliefs. Gigantic, glittering crystal chandeliers hung above the staircase, casting a soft and warm light. In the hallways, wide crimson carpets muffled the sound of footsteps. Busts of famous composers, finely sculpted, were placed in niches along the walls, silently watching over the passing spectators, the storyteller's gaze lingering on some of them. Along the way, golden lounges, with plush purple velvet sofas and gilded ceilings, allowed guests to chat before the performance or during intermissions.

The two nobles entered one of the boxes, providing a direct view of the stage. As always, under the amused gaze of his partner, Célestin was dazzled by the opulence, marveling at the auditorium. It was made up of wrought-iron balconies with red velvet seats, arranged in tiers, rising up to the ceiling, which itself was adorned with a gigantic fresco depicting fantastic scenes and mythological figures. In the center, an immense crystal chandelier dominated the room, composed of thousands of sparkling prisms, illuminating the stage with a soft and diffused light. The stage, framed by a richly decorated proscenium, was covered with gilded sculptures representing dancing fauns and nymphs. The stage curtain, made of purple velvet embroidered with gold, hung in majestic folds. Each seat, upholstered in red velvet, was finely crafted, offering luxurious comfort to the spectators. The spacious and vast parterre offered a perfect view of the stage, while the private boxes, decorated with gilding and silk, allowed the nobles and wealthy bourgeois to observe the performance in relative privacy.

The archduke made a gesture, inviting him to sit down, which the count did. He then felt the soft and plush fabric of his seat.

A few musicians, positioned in the pit just below the stage and visible from their place, played a few notes of music. The acoustics of the hall seemed to be perfect, designed so that every note reached the audience's ears with crystalline clarity. The ceiling, with its ornate dome, amplified the sound, creating a harmonious resonance.

"My Célestin, you are so adorable to marvel every time we come here, remarked the taller man with amusement, already settled into his seat.

- How can one not be overwhelmed by such beauty?, sighed the count, his eyes sparkling with wonder.

- I can only agree with your remark, murmured his companion, engrossed in his gaze at the brown-haired man.

- By the way, what play is it tonight? Although I enjoy tragedies, I must confess a preference for comedy, inquired the fabulist, his gaze returning to his companion.

-The Alcoholic in Spite of Himself, announced his partner, as his protégé's eyes widened slightly, It's the premiere of this play, I believe.

- Gabriel! It's... it's magnificent!", exclaimed the count in a hushed voice.

The archduke couldn't add more as one of the actors had just stepped onto the stage and struck the floor, signaling the start of the play with three loud knocks. Célestin was thus immersed in the wonderful world of his favorite playwright, enjoying his appearance on stage as an actor and the comedic story presented by him, laughing throughout.

"Sir, in a word, as much as in two thousand, I tell you that I am not an alcoholic, declared the character Tartagnon with conviction.

- Are you not an alcoholic?, asked the character Isidore.

- No, affirmed Tartagnon.

- You're not an alcoholic?, insisted the character Thomas.

- No, I tell you, repeated Tartagnon once more.

- Since you insist, one must resign oneself," declared Isidore with a shrug.

The two men then took a stick and began to beat the poor Tartagnon, played by Violère himself, provoking laughter from the audience.

"Ah! ah! ah! Gentlemen! Can we not discuss like civilized people?, cried the poor beaten man.

- Are you an alcoholic?, repeated one of his tormentors, Isidore.

- No!", affirmed the victim, even though he had found himself in this situation because of his own fault.

Another series of blows resumed just after these words.

"Ah, ah! Well, gentlemen, yes, since you want it so, I am an alcoholic, I am so alcoholic that I sleep next to my wine bottles at night, if that pleases you. I would rather concede to everything than be beaten, Tartagnon finally confessed.

- Ah! That's well said, sir, I'm delighted to see you reasonable, exclaimed Isidore.

- You bring joy to my heart when I hear you speak like that, rejoiced Thomas.

- I would have preferred you didn't beat me for this, mumbled Tartagnon, yes, yes, I am an alcoholic, take this bottle, my good man."

And the play continued, with scenes and acts flowing one after the other, resuming after the intermission, and ending late into the evening.

As the entire crowd pressed to leave, the archduke led the young count to the artist's exit, hastily greeting and congratulating the actors, allowing the fabulist to receive a dedication from the great Violère to his utmost joy. Then, they both climbed into the carriage to return to Monsieur de Foreloin's residence. The poor Célestin had much trouble staying awake during dinner, nearly dropping his head into his plate.

"Célestin, Célestin, whispered the taller noble affectionately, lifting the smaller man into his arms after finishing the meal.

- Gabriel... Please put me down..., mumbled the brown-haired man with a half-asleep air.

- May I help you clean up, Célestin?, suggested the archduke suddenly, causing the other man to turn crimson.

- I can still manage by myself..., grumbled the fabulist, rubbing his exhausted eyes.

- Certainly, nevertheless, remember that doctors recommend a bath each day to purify our bodies. If you are not sufficiently awake, it might be detrimental, which I would prefer to avoid, explained his companion, leading him upstairs to one of the pre-prepared bathrooms, with servants bowing as they passed.

- As you wish...", grumbled Célestin, closing his eyes and letting himself be cradled by the strong and protective arms carrying him.

Gabriel merely smiled before entering the desired room.

Only after some time could the archduke join his lover, who had been placed on the four-poster bed after he had bathed and dressed, like his partner, in a modest white nightshirt.

He approached the bed before settling inside, with only a few moonbeams allowing him to glimpse the sleeping face of his beloved, mumbling incomprehensible words before sinking once more into a deep slumber.

"How you grumble, my dear Célestin," whispered the other man gently.

He chuckled softly at his own joke before lying on his side, gazing with tender affection at the one who shared his life and made it more delightful, lovingly caressing his cheek. Then, he leaned in and placed an ethereal kiss on his forehead, wishing him with ardent devotion:

"Good night, my Célestin."

His partner did not respond, but he drew closer to the archduke, nestling his face into his neck. The archduke said nothing and embraced him, holding him in a protective and warm hug, allowing himself to be carried away by sleep as well.

Only the moon remained a silent witness to this peaceful harmony of two souls devoted to one another, in a secret love that was nonetheless so deep.