Chapter 1791: Flowers, Swords, and France

Regardless of what is said, the fruit and cake at the banquet are exquisite, delicious, and innocent; only the sugar and calories are guilty.

After stuffing the seventh cream soufflé into her mouth, Sabrina sipped red wine to swallow it down, the food rolling down her swan-like slender neck, which finally caused her smoky, thin brows to relax.

Judging by her expression of constant, satisfied exhaling, she must be full.

It was more or less a bit crude.

No wonder she would sneak over here to eat in secret.

Bonaparte watched in astonishment, not shocked by the appetite of this Count's youngest daughter, but worried about the steel corset on her waist; would she really not burst from eating so much?

Sabrina also seemed to finally realize that there was still someone beside her, which made her expression slightly bashful; she lifted a pink fan to cover her mouth, looking at Bonaparte pitifully with her innocent, large eyes.

"You will be understanding and not go around telling everyone, right? I believe you are an upright and considerate person."

Bonaparte:...

"I hope you can be considerate of your own body; gluttony is not a good habit."

"You don't need to worry, I have a sense of proportion." Sabrina glanced at the bustling center of the banquet and suddenly changed the subject: "By the way, aren't you going to dance?"

Bonaparte did not speak.

He certainly knew how to dance; it was a required course for a Noble, but the reason for sitting here alone was obvious.

"I know, you must not have a dance partner."

Sabrina's eyes curved, the depths of her pupils flowing like the thawing spring water by the Seine River, sparkling in the magnificent lamplight.

"Yes, you have seen through it all, as you can see." Bonaparte spread his hands and shook his head.

"That won't do."

She smiled triumphantly, with an innocent and playful interest, lifted the edge of her skirt, set her red velvet fan on the edge of the table, and extended a slender hand encased in a white lace glove toward Bonaparte.

"Come, sir, this is a lady's invitation."

"Me? Are you sure?" Bonaparte's gaze became somewhat dazed, the tip of his nose seemingly lingering with the scent of cream and an indescribable floral fragrance, coming from the glossy fingertips with which the young lady had picked up the cake.

"This is proper social etiquette; you can also consider it hush money for seeing me make a fool of myself just now."

The young lady leaned forward slightly, closing the distance, one hand covering the exquisite neckline of her dress, her delicate collarbone half-exposed in the fragrant air.

"I have never seen anyone offer hush money themselves..." Bonaparte cut off his words, and meeting those beautiful and expectant

eyes, he could no longer say anything tactless, so he had to purse his lips and stand up.

"As you wish."

He paused, gently taking Sabrina's fingers from below, his movements as gentle as possible, as if touching precious porcelain.

Sensing the other's caution, Sabrina said in a satisfied tone: "If you were a bit more witty, perhaps it could be even more wonderful."

Holding the young lady's slender hand, the two walked around the dining table, stepping toward the dance floor with elegant strides, and taking advantage of the distance of less than half an arm's length, Bonaparte quietly asked in her ear.

"How witty?"

"You should ask, how wonderful." The sweet girl pouted, and after replying, she waved to an acquaintance passing by.

That was Kamila; she and Kaine were already arm-in-arm, inseparable, having retreated from the dance floor.

"Alright, how wonderful." Bonaparte couldn't stand Kaine's surprised and teasing gaze, as if he found it strange that he could actually hold hands with Sabrina; he was secretly a bit annoyed, he had already said it was proper social etiquette.

"That depends on how witty you are, sir." Sabrina turned and placed her hand on Bonaparte's shoulder. Read the full content on the Aiyue app.

"Hmm... it is said that a long time ago, there was a Yuanyueshu on Kejiaxi Island."

Bonaparte hesitated for a moment, put his arm around the young lady's slender waist, and swayed his steps among the crowd.

"Yuanyueshu, what kind is it?" Sabrina clearly did not expect him to suddenly bring this up, but she still asked, playing along.

"It is a tree with three leaves, but there are also rare fourth leaves. In the legends of Kejiaxi, if you find a leaf with four petals, you will obtain happiness."

"I didn't expect you to believe in such childish stories."

"Because I am a Sparta man, aren't I."

The paired shadows rotated and swayed slowly under the lights; Bonaparte and Sabrina blended into them and were not conspicuous—no, actually, they were quite conspicuous; Miss Sabrina was half a head taller than him.

"The four leaves represent prayer, hope, love, and the last one represents happiness. The rabbits where we are from symbolize purity, love, happiness, and hope, because they often eat the leaves on the Yuanyueshu."

Bonaparte, holding onto some memory, slowly recounted the fairy tale from his childhood.

Sabrina listened, mesmerized, her thoughts spinning along with the noisy yet clear classical music, as if drifting in the surging waves.

She murmured slightly: "You are actually very romantic."

Bonaparte shook

his head and said: "Everyone is romantic, but one must meet the right person, because everyone has a different lock in their heart. Only the right key can open it."

"Is this a famous quote from someone?" She asked with some curiosity.

"Perhaps it is a famous quote from Bonaparte." Bonaparte leaned closer to her again, because the young lady's fragrance was alluring.

"I don't believe it. Are you deliberately acting uninteresting? I believe you will be a popular person in the future, but you don't look like one at all right now."

"Oh? What am I like then?"

Sabrina turned lightly with the dance steps, squinting her eyes in thought, "Introverted, cautious, sorry, and also a bit sensitive."

Not very pleasant to hear, but it was all the truth; if she had spoken words of praise, Bonaparte would have felt it was not sincere enough.

"Then, as for you, what are you like?" The young lady asked softly.

He pondered and spoke: "To be honest, I don't know."

"I never contemplate such questions, because once you allow such questions to be raised, then their answers will raise the next question."

Bonaparte paused and said again: "The answer will never be unassailable; people will question this answer, and the answer to the next question will also be questioned, thus cycling back and forth, asking for the reason behind the reason."

"That means you don't even know yourself? You've got me confused."

Bonaparte said with a sigh: "You are quite right; no one can clearly know what they are like. If you want people to live in society, the only Method is to prevent them from having doubts, and the only way to stop them from questioning is to use terror."

"If the essence of things is vague and immeasurable, then people will only obey it. Once people penetrate the essence of things, once it is something rational, once people can understand it, they will not fear it. They will not revere it, they will not respect it, so it will collapse."

"Therefore, what we need is something vague and incomprehensible; there are mirrors in life, but it is very difficult for thoughts to have mirrors."

Sabrina looked thoughtful, then chuckled softly: "I truly cannot understand you, Mr. Bonaparte."

Bonaparte nodded silently, looking toward the swirling lights of this scene.

The lamplight swayed with alluring shadows, silver platters reflected the finery, and romantic young people displayed gowns and suits with streamlined silhouettes, letting prosperity and song flow wantonly behind the city's decadent Shadow.

Decorated with flowers, swords, and France.