Chapter 19: Loen-Style Subtlety

Chapter 19: Loen-Style Subtlety

Late at night, at 7 Pinster Street.

Leonard Mitchell sat down in his chair, lifted both feet, and stretched them onto the edge of the desk.

Then he leaned back. The wooden joints of the chair creaked beneath the pressure, and his breathing gradually grew long and even.

After an unknown length of time, his eyelids drooped, covering his eyes.

By then, Leonard’s spirit had entered a gray and hazy world, though the place he occupied was still his own bedroom.

He drifted to the window and saw thick gray fog enveloping the nearby blocks and extending farther outward, as if it wished to swallow all of Backlund.

The gas lamps along the streets and the warm light from different houses all appeared unusually dim. They could illuminate only a tiny area around them, and each glow had been tinged with haziness.

At the same time, clusters of illusory oval light spheres appeared and vanished, overlapping and shrouding houses one after another, as though they were the sources of those places’ existence.

This was the city as seen through the eyes of a Nightmare.

Following the information he had previously investigated, Leonard, in his Nightmare form, leaped out of the window and flew toward 17 Minsk Street in the Cherwood Borough.

He did not barge straight in. Within the thick fog, he descended before the door and politely rang the bell.

Amid the cuckooing of the doorbell, Starling Sammer opened the door in her nightdress.

Holding a silver-inlaid court feather fan across her chest, she asked, both dazed and puzzled, “Who are you looking for?”

She was Klein’s former landlady from the period when he had played Sherlock Moriarty, a blond, blue-eyed woman of about thirty.

Leonard had at some point changed into the black-and-white checkered uniform of a Loen police officer. Casually showing his credentials, he asked, “Do you know Sherlock Moriarty?”

Because she was dreaming, Starling reacted very slowly. Several seconds passed before she said, “Has something happened to him?”

As she asked the question, influenced by Leonard, she naturally manifested the Sherlock Moriarty in her mind beside her:

He wore a half top hat, a double-breasted formal coat, gold-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a ring of beard around his mouth…

This matched the appearance of Sherlock Moriarty that Leonard had obtained beforehand, so he felt no suspicion and said directly, “He has been involved in a case and is currently under investigation.

“We hope you can cooperate with our work.”

“A-alright.” Starling seemed about to lift her chin, but for some reason, fear crept into her expression.

Leonard thought for a second and asked, “When did he rent the house?”

“Early September last year,” Starling said after thinking back.

Leonard continued, “What do you know about him? Or rather, in your mind, what kind of person is he?”

At this, Starling seemed to have already considered her answer.

“He came from Midseashire and had the accent from that region. He was a very capable detective. He once helped Mary resolve the matter of her husband’s affair. However, his income was not high. He could not even afford a full-time maid-of-all-work and had to have my maid help him part-time… My children told me that he was very good at telling stories, especially detective stories. Perhaps that was why he chose that profession…”

Giving Leonard no chance to interrupt, she continued on and on.

“He was not as rough as ordinary detectives. He had attended grammar school and studied history. What made others envy him most was that after receiving Mary’s thanks, he joined the Quelaag Club. The people there are all of considerable status. I have been there a few times myself…

“Later, he seemed to become rather famous in detective circles. Private detectives often came looking for him…”

Leonard listened with increasing impatience and could not help raising a hand to rub his temple.

From Mrs. Starling, he had failed to obtain anything useful. Apart from the facts that Sherlock Moriarty’s finances had not been particularly good and that he was skilled at telling detective stories, everything else fell within the scope of information he had already uncovered. He even knew that Sherlock Moriarty had a decent relationship with Isengard Stanton.

Next, I’ll start with the members of the Quelaag Club who had a good relationship with Sherlock Moriarty… After patiently listening to Mrs. Starling’s rambling to the end, Leonard thanked her at once and left her dream.

…

At 160 Böklund Street, within Dawn Dantes’s residence.

Inside the hall capable of accommodating a hundred dancing guests, Klein was holding a woman in her thirties as they moved gracefully across the floor.

This was the etiquette instructor Walter had hired for him, a lady named Wahana Heisen.

She possessed a common feminine name, but there was nothing ordinary about the woman herself. Her features were only somewhat above average, yet she carried herself with remarkable poise, and every movement held a special charm.

According to Walter, she had been born into a baron’s family and had received a proper education since childhood. Later, she entered the royal court and served as a lady-in-waiting until marriage.

Because her family had declined and her husband’s finances were merely average, this believer of the Evernight Goddess had chosen to become a household tutor in etiquette. She frequently entered and exited the homes of nobles and wealthy families, teaching their children.

Although his butler had not said it directly, Klein knew very well that he absolutely could not perform poorly in front of this lady, or his reputation would be essentially finished.

After all, one of the important ways nobles, tycoons, and other upper-class figures learned about a person was through mutual acquaintances. At times, even the social interactions between servants carried a similar meaning.

With light steps and swaying movement, Wahana, her black hair loosely coiled, gave an approving nod.

“Mr. Dantes, it is truly difficult to imagine that you had never learned this dance before.

“In less than half an hour, you have become as proficient as a noble who received such training from childhood.”

“It is because you teach so well.” Klein smiled modestly, his expression gentle and never ostentatious.

With the Clown’s sense of balance and coordination, dancing was an extremely simple matter for him.

Wahana lowered her head and laughed softly.

“You are a gentleman who knows how to make ladies happy.”

Her light-brown eyes then lifted, sweeping over Dawn Dantes’s silver-threaded temples and deep blue eyes.

“That is the finest praise I have heard today,” Klein replied with a smile. At the same time, his feet did not stop. He led Wahana lightly through a turn while, not far away, the invited musicians allowed the elegant melody to continue flowing through the hall.

He wished to become familiar with Wahana not only to improve his reputation, but also because she had once served as a lady-in-waiting at court.

After correcting one tiny mistake in Dawn Dantes’s movement, Wahana said, “When inviting a lady to dance, dancing alone is not enough. There must also be necessary conversation. You must not act as if the two of you are puppets—unless both of you are immersed in the music and the rhythm of the dance and have no wish to speak. Of course, that too is a kind of communication, a communication of the heart.

“When conversing, one must be subtle. This is Loen, not Intis.

“To put it simply: do not be direct, and do not be crude. Make yourself appear refined.

“I will give an example. If you wish to praise a lady’s perfume, you cannot directly say that it smells wonderful, nor should you ask which perfume it is and then praise it. You must connect it to a more implicit meaning and mention it from the side. Mm, you could say, ‘I seem to have arrived in the countryside in spring.’

“Of course, this must match the qualities of the perfume.”

That lacks literary feeling. Shouldn’t the proper line be, “The moon is beautiful tonight”? Klein grumbled inwardly with a Japanese-style subtlety joke, then laughed at himself and said, “Thank you for not saying that my compliments just now were insufficiently refined.”

Wahana’s smile deepened at once.

“Mr. Dantes, do you know what kind of gentleman is most popular with women in social settings?”

“I do not,” Klein admitted frankly with a shake of his head.

Still smiling, Wahana said, “The second most popular is a man who makes a lady feel that he is clever.”

“And the first?” Klein cooperatively asked.

Wahana glanced at him.

“The most popular is a man who makes a lady feel that she herself is clever.”

At that, she smiled and said no more, while Klein immediately understood the praise hidden within her words.

So this is Loen-style subtlety… Unlike Intis, where everything runs toward the lower half of the body… Mm, that’s all based on newspapers and magazines. What Intis social circles are actually like cannot be determined from that alone. In any case, the two countries always slander each other… During the Emperor’s era, though, that kind of description probably fit quite well…

Klein nodded in dawning understanding.

The two-hour etiquette lesson came to an end in this harmonious atmosphere. Klein, accompanied by Butler Walter and his personal valet Richardson, escorted Teacher Wahana Heisen to the door and gave her a small gift.

It was Dream Company’s Moonlight perfume, mixed with gray amber and quite expensive.

As for the precise price, Klein did not know, because Butler Walter had purchased it. The expenditure would be handled through the housekeeper. Only when the 1,000 pounds was almost exhausted and new funds were needed would Taneja come to him with receipts and forms for review.

The reason Klein knew the company and the name of the perfume was because the butler had informed him in advance, lest Ms. Wahana ask about it and he know nothing, making him appear insincere.

From such details, he came to deeply appreciate the value of a good butler.

Watching the satisfied Ms. Wahana Heisen leave, Klein resisted the urge to rub his temple and sincerely sighed inwardly.

“This is more exhausting than fighting Beyonders. I have to pay attention to my movements at every moment and carefully consider every word… I really need to rest.”

Just then, Walter, wearing white gloves, stepped forward.

“Sir, since your progress in etiquette has been swift, the remaining lessons can be moved forward.”

“What lessons?” Klein felt a headache coming on.

“History, international politics, philosophy, music, as well as basic knowledge of sports such as golf, horse racing, and hunting…” Walter answered meticulously.

“Philosophy?” Klein asked in slight astonishment.

Walter nodded.

“This is one of the topics most easily raised in upper-class society. You need not conduct deep research, but you should at least know what others are discussing. You should know that the sources of pragmatic philosophy are Consiso, Mared, and Patterson, not Emperor Roselle. You should know that the person who proposed ‘man is born free’ was Lurmi.

“When many tycoons first enter upper-class society, they often make mistakes in this regard. They are accustomed to attributing words they do not know and philosophical ideas they do not understand to Emperor Roselle.”

Klein’s head hurt even more after hearing that. Forcing a smile, he said, “I have nothing much to do lately. Apart from my afternoon nap and visits to church, you may arrange the lessons at any time.”

…

In a dim room, an envelope floated up, opened by itself, and shook out a sheet of paper.

Sharron’s figure, wearing a small soft hat, appeared beside it. She took the letter and read it carefully.

Then she wrote a reply, arranged a ritual, and began summoning Sherlock Moriarty’s messenger.

During this process, she did not forget to place a gold coin.

Very soon, Sharron finished chanting the incantation and saw the candle flame swell, dyeing itself a gloomy green.

The figure of Reinette Tinekerr, carrying four blond, red-eyed heads, emerged from the candlelight and arrived before Sharron.

Sharron’s gaze froze. Her doll-like face suddenly showed a violent change in emotion.

She blurted out, “Teacher!

“Were you not already…”