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"Have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"The news about the young ladies of the Black Rose Salon, of course."
"Did something happen again?"
"…"
"…"
I[1] couldn’t help but listen to such whispers as I sipped my wine.
They were talking about those who caused quite a stir at the recent debutante ball.
‘The Black Rose Salon again.’
Whether for good or bad reasons, they were always at the center of attention. Lately, wherever I went, I'd hear nothing but topics about them. Old nobles and young heirs alike boasted about how delightful their time had been with the young ladies of the Black Rose Salon.
Ridiculous stories spread, like Lady Palette recommending a tobacco blend that supposedly came from the neutral nation of Laios, or Lady Brush reading suspicious books.
“Puhahahaha! Is that true? Did someone really insult Lady Peneloti right in front of Lady Pastel?!”
“That’s right.”
“So what happened to that fool?”
“Hehehehe. Don’t be shocked.”
“Out with it.”
“Lady Pastel challenged him to a duel.”
“What… hahahaha! What did you say? You must be joking!”
“Would I joke about something like that? I was there myself! It was so satisfying to see Lady Pastel’s glove flying into that scoundrel’s face. Even now, I can still see his face.”
“Hah! That must’ve been quite a sight. So how did the duel go? Lady Pastel wouldn’t have fought...
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