After Erich finished speaking, he paused briefly before adding, "I'm not the only one who came. Quevedo and his friend, Mr. Florent, are also here. You and Quevedo must be quite close as well."
Only then did the young man seem to notice Quevedo...
His tone cooled slightly but remained warm as he said, "Ah, Quevedo! My apologies... I was just so excited to see Mr. Erich. Please forgive my rare moment of enthusiasm. You are, of course, equally welcome."
Then, the seemingly aloof host finally returned to his usual demeanor, nodding at Florent with polite but distant courtesy:
"And welcome to you as well, Mr. Florent. Since you are a friend of Quevedoʼs, your intellect must be something to admire. I'm glad you could join us."
Though the young man clearly wanted to continue speaking with Erich, he remembered his role as the salon's host and merely gestured for Erich, Quevedo, and Florent to take their seats before returning to his position at the head of the room.
Despite Erich's close relationship with the host, the latter wasn't the type to abuse his authority for personal connections. He didn't force the front-row attendees to move to make space for Erich, so the trio ended up sitting together at a table.
Florent remained silent during the host's remarks, unbothered by the young man's somewhat detached tone.
Not that he was impolite, his words were perfectly courteous, but the coldness in his voice and demeanor was enough to make anyone feel slighted.
Quevedoʼs expression had stiffened slightly during the exchange, relaxing only when the host acknowledged him. But as soon as the young man walked away, his face tightened again, though he said nothing.
Once seated, Quevedo glanced around to ensure no one could overhear before his expression loosened completely.
He leaned toward Florent and muttered, "Good heavens, what's gotten into Karl? We used to be on good terms... why is he suddenly so warm to Erich and so cold to me? Do you have some kind of strange charm?"
The last question was directed at Erich, who didn't even bother changing his expression. He merely glanced at Quevedo silent.
Quevedo chuckled awkwardly under that icy gaze, "Ah, don't be mad. My bad, heh."
Turning back to Florent, he continued, "The host of this salon used to be my good friend. Now? Well, he's this guy's bosom buddy." He jerked a thumb at Erich, "Tch. They've only met a few times... how did it come to this? Is it some kind of magnetic attraction between like-minded souls? It doesn't make sense."
Erich's glare could have frozen Quevedo solid. The latter shivered dramatically, raising his hands in mock surrender, which only made Erich roll his eyes and return to being a silent observer.
Quevedo grinned and went on, "You heard what I called him, right? Karl... his full name is Karl Green. The Green, as in one of the 'Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse'. Ah, the 'Four Horsemen' were my childhood dream. Never thought I'd actually meet a descendant... it's like touching a legend."
He sighed, and then continued, "Though Karl wasn't fortunate enough to inherit his father's position and follow Roselle. I originally wanted to ask him about Roselle's glorious deeds, maybe even shamelessly beg for an introduction. But alas..." He perked up again, "Still, Roselle treated Karl extremely well. The guy's a viscount with millions in assets now. Heh."
Florent nodded, "It seems Roselle took good care of Karl."
Quevedo agreed fervently, "Exactly! When Mr. Green died, Karl had just been born. As soon as Roselle returned, he gave half of his personal fortune to Karl's widowed mother. And after Roselle seized power, he granted Mr. Green and the other 'Horsemen' titles, lands, and even greater wealth. Roselle's generosity is truly something to admire."
For the first time, Florent felt genuine respect for Roselle's character. Many leaders sweet-talked their allies during the struggle for power, only to discard them like rags once they were no longer useful.
But Roselle had remembered and rewarded his followers even after achieving greatness.
Thinking of the countless betrayals and backstabbings in history, Florent replied sincerely, "Yes, that kind of integrity is rare indeed."
Thrilled to have successfully preached about his idol, Quevedo grew even more animated, "Right?! And that's not all, Roselle has so many other virtues–"
Just as Florent braced himself for an endless fanboy rant, a series of soft but clear chimes echoed through the room.
Quevedo immediately cut himself off, looking momentarily disappointed before brightening again at the thought of the salon's discussions.
After the chimes faded, Karl stood and surveyed the room, ensuring he had everyone's attention.
He cleared his throat lightly and began speaking in a refined, aristocratic Intisian accent which was starkly different from the common dialect:
"Welcome everyone, to the philosophy salon I've organized. As you know, I'm not one for unnecessary words... so let us begin."
Fortunately, Florent had received noble education in his youth and recognized this as the distinctive Intisian dialect of Trier's aristocracy, far removed from everyday speech.
As the host finished his opening remarks, café attendants began serving coffee, fruits, and cakes to each table.
Meanwhile, Karl smoothly transitioned into reciting well-known philosophical passages in his polished noble tone... excerpts Florent had often encountered in his readings, revered as foundational texts.
And so, under the host's measured recitation, the salon quietly commenced...
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Read ahead on my P@treon...
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