No nobleman would dare bring a mere bottle of perfume to an audience with a higher-ranking noble.
If he actually did, he either had a brain problem or wanted to make an enemy. Such a shabby gift would surely make the other party furious enough to sweep him out into the street.
Therefore, if the duel hadn’t happened today, Hall would have rained down curses on this Earl of Flowervale until the knights of the ducal palace threw him out.
Once disgraced, he would have to scurry back to Desolette like a little mouse.
However, Rege believed the gentleman Earl was anything but a fool. He’d never put himself in that kind of embarrassing situation.
“Is there something special about this bottle of perfume? Is it more expensive than jewels?” Rege held the curved bottle up to the window and inspected its color in the light, then aimed it at the air and casually sprayed a bit.
In an instant the heavy fragrance filled the entire carriage, making  him frown with distaste.
He hated the overly cloying, heavy scent. Like a flood of seawater it invaded the lungs, streaming constantly into the trachea, causing a feeling of suffocation. He really couldn’t understand why women would like this type of perfume.
In his opinion, the most refreshing fragrance was the smell of blood and metal produced by the clash of swords.
Jian Qiao gently shook his head. He closed his eyes again and was silent for a moment.
Dizziness made his voice softer and slower than usual. “Whether it’s special or not, whether it’s expensive or not, I’d give one type of answer in front of Helen Grande and a different one in front of you.”
With these words, he opened his eyes and looked intently at the lion before him.
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Rege raised his eyebrows and became interested. “Oh? What’s the answer for Helen and what’s the answer for me?”
Jian Qiao held out his hand.
Rege naturally put the perfume bottle into his white palm.
After receiving the bottle, Jian Qiao said slowly, “In the presence of Helen Grande, I’d say: this perfume is a blend of agarwood, musk, amber, and damask rose, fused and tempered together from the world’s rarest, most cherished perfume ingredients.
“Its name is ‘Queen’s Rose’. Its top notes are like smoke and pine, delicate but tenacious; the middle notes are vast as the sea and the abyss, broad yet deep; the bottom notes are like the earth and sky, magnificent but remote.
“And the Queen’s Heart is just as it should be. Its color is as radiant as gold, and its worth is as costly as gold. To be more precise, its other name is ‘Liquid Gold’, for this is the only bottle in the world. It is totally unique. Only the world’s most noble woman deserves to have it.”
While describing the qualities of this bottle of perfume, Jian Qiao rubbed the round belly of the bottle back and forth in his long, thin fingertips.
He was completely unaware of how fascinating this subtle motion was in Rege’s eyes.
If his fingertips were rubbing something other than the bottle back and forth, what would it be like? Would it feel like a feather flitting across the skin, yielding a supremely indescribable sensation
.
Thinking of this, Rege lowered his eyes to look at the back of his hand, where a layer of goosebumps had surfaced.
“The Queen’s Rose, Liquid Gold, unique in the world,” Rege said in a hoarse voice. “It does sound extraordinary. Helen should be satisfied. And what would you say before me?”
He had his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw slightly raised, and his attitude appeared arrogant. But in fact he was only trying to hide his hands that were covered in goosebumps.
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Whenever he met this Earl of Flowervale, he always felt strange.
Jian Qiao considered for a moment, then said in a flat tone, “In front of you I’d say: it’s just a bottle of poor quality perfume made from expensive ingredients. I don’t even care enough to give it a decent name.
“It’s unable to blend the neutrality of agarwood with the richness of musk, nor does it merge the crispness of pine and the sweetness of rose into a more harmonious melody. The various scents crash together to produce a brutal catastrophe.
“The smell is simply terrifying. Only the most tasteless, vulgar woman would be confused by such flamboyant trappings. And Helen Grande is a perfect match for it. That’s why I brought it as a gift.”
After saying these words, Jian Qiao dropped his previous loving attitude and casually threw the bottle of perfume into the gift box.
There was no hint of expression on his face, but the indifference in his dark eyes was enough to express his dislike for the bottle of perfume.
Rege was stunned for several seconds before he burst out laughing.
“Brilliant, just brilliant! Although I don’t understand the quality of perfume and can’t be sure your words are true, I have to admit you’re very eloquent. You know exactly how to please.” Rege looked at this seemingly indifferent and aloof man with scorching eyes. In fact, the gentleman Earl had a silver tongue.
Jian Qiao secretly breathed a sigh of relief. If he was able to build a good relationship with the people who ruled Grande it would certainly be of great benefit to Desolette.
He knew he’d bet right and continued on, saying, “My lord, to tell you the truth, last night I sent the Angel’s Tear to the palace. It’s already in the hands of Queen Moen, your sister.”
Rege’s loud laughter came to an abrupt halt.
Presenting a bottle of inferior perfume was no more than a joke, but by sending the Angel’s Tear to his sister, Jian Qiao had undoubtedly declared war on Hall and Helen. He was so shrewd he couldn’t be unaware of what kind of temper those siblings had.
Helen was sarcastic and rude, and Hall was vicious and cruel. They never abided by any law or morality. Whoever offended them would suffer a miserable life or be killed.
“Aren’t you afraid of death?” Rege asked in a deep voice.
“I was afraid, that’s why I made this choice.” Jian Qiao lifted his head and looked straight at the other man, his tone calm, “Because I firmly believe you and your sister will be the victors in the end.”
Since he’d been forced into the Grande family’s strife, Jian Qiao was compelled to choose a side. Thinking of Queen Moen’s steadiness, principles, and tact, and thinking of Rege’s unyielding spirit and fearlessness, Jian Qiao was certain that even if there were ten more Halls and Helens, they still wouldn’t be a match for the other pair of siblings.
And his prediction proved correct.
Only yesterday he’d given the Angel’s Tear to Queen Moen as a token; today, his biggest problem, Hall, had been neatly solved by Rege, without the slightest bit of controversy.
After news of the duel spread, no one would be able to say Hall died unjustly. He never even had a chance to see Jian Qiao’s account books.
“So, are you satisfied?” Jian Qiao nodded slightly as he asked in a soft voice.
“Satisfied.” Rege stared at him with a deadly gaze, his eyes dark and unpredictable.
“Then, are you pleased?” Jian Qiao looked directly at the other man and confirmed again.
He had a feeling Gloria was about to change. In the face of the coming storm, the mountains and rivers of this land would be shaken to their foundations. He had to stand under the biggest tree with the deepest, firmest roots. And Rege was this tree. He refused to tie himself to the other man, but he was willing to make friends.
Rege turned away from the carriage window, concealing himself in the dark where the light didn’t reach, and said in a deep voice, “My lord Earl, you please me perfectly every time.”
“If so, may I take my leave first?” Only then did Jian Qiao take out his handkerchief and slowly wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead and the tip of his nose.
After battling vertigo, he’d fallen into profound exhaustion. He desperately needed to rest.
Rege didn’t speak. For a moment he only stared.
The shadows obscured his expression, but couldn’t conceal the dangerous light in his eyes.
Jian Qiao thought he might have accidentally said something wrong and offended the lion, otherwise the other side wouldn’t reveal such man-eating eyes.
Just when he was thinking how to remedy the situation, Rege suddenly pulled open the carriage door and jumped out. Without looking back, he said, “I had a great time today, and the vast majority of that pleasure came from you. So you’re free to go.”
“Thank you for the compliment. I had a good time today too.”
Jian Qiao knew he was lying; in fact, he’d had a terrible day. Seeing blood again had brought back dreadful memories, he’d even passed out for a few minutes. The day could be summed up in two words—total disaster!
While Rege had cleanly rid himself of his enemy, now held Grande securely in his palm, and would eventually become one of the decision makers who dominated the continent. How could he not be happy?
But Jian Qiao couldn’t have imagined that what Rege said was completely true.
Taking control of Grande was a given fact for Rege. Everything was a matter of course, how could he have strong feelings about it? However, when the Earl of Flowervale said, “I firmly believe you’ll be the victor in the end,” his heart was beating wildly.
The joy and pride of gaining victory, only now did it well up from the depths of his heart, so the entire way Rege walked, he wore a smile.
Before entering the ducal palace he looked back at the carriage of the gentleman Earl.
Jian Qiao poked his head out, and with his slender fingertips sketched a sharp, diagonal slash near his equally slender brow, a farewell salute.
Rege stared at him with a deep gaze until he disappeared into the fog that never seemed to lift.
—
After Jian Qiao returned to the inn, the knight captain he’d sent to the palace to deliver the gem also returned. He bent forward and said in a low voice, “I stayed at the palace last night. Guess who I saw when I left?”
“Helen Grande,” Jian Qiao said with certainty.
“Yes, it was Lady Helen. She was carried out of the palace in a skirt covered with bloodstains, she’d just miscarried. His Majesty, who’d always favored her so much, had Lady Mia in his arms. He pointed at her nose and called her a shrew, and forbade her from ever entering the palace again.”
“Why was Lady Mia in the palace?” Jian Qiao wrinkled his brow and asked.
“Lady Mia is said to be the bosom friend of the king’s favorite mistress, Lady Dupont. Lady Mia feared that Lord Rege would retaliate against her, so she ran to the palace seeking refuge with Lady Dupont. The chamberlain took her to a side hall to wait, but instead of meeting Lady Dupont, His Majesty the King came in. He was drunk and the two slept together. No man can resist Lady Mia’s flirtation, and it makes sense His Majesty would fall into her hands. The two were in the throes of passion when Lady Helen somehow rushed in. She grabbed Lady Mia and kicked and beat her, but His Majesty severely pushed her away, and she miscarried.”
The knight commander briefly recounted the chaos in the palace.
The process might have sounded simple, but what Jian Qiao tasted wasn’t simple at all.
Why did Lady Mia happen to meet a drunken Charles III? Who’d gotten Charles III drunk? Why was Helen able to barge into the place where the two were fooling around without being stopped by the guards? Could a miscarriage be triggered by a mere push?
Such a series of games, if there wasn’t a pair of strong and powerful hands controlling things behind the scenes, how could the two just happen to bump into each other, setting off a tragedy?
Of course, for one person in the palace it wasn’t a tragedy at all.
Jian Qiao touched the corner of his narrow eye and murmured, “It seems I sent the Angel’s Tear correctly.”
TL Notes:
é«˜ćœ°çŽ«ç‘° – damask rose – Rosa damascena
Transliterated names, titles, and places—new in this chapter:
æœćœ­ć€«äșș – DĂčPĂ©ng FĆ«RĂ©n – Lady Dupont, a mistress of Charles III