Chapter Title: A Night Worth Celebrating
She pulled out her deck and spread it like a fan.
"As you can see, this is slightly different from a normal card." Cesare examined the back of the card and stroked his chin.
"I can't tell. The pattern just seems simpler."
"That's precisely what matters. It doesn't have a white border like a standard card. That's why it's so easy to manipulate." Adele shuffled the cards swiftly. The rhombus pattern on the back blended together like an optical illusion.
"The technique itself is simple. You check the position of each card and adjust them as you shuffle so they end up where you want them. It's called riffle stacking." Cesare frowned and tilted his head. It was an expression that seemed almost endearing.
"Is that really possible?"
"If you can read your opponent's gaze." Cesare chuckled softly, as if realizing something.
"I played that part."
"You did well."
"My sister didn't even glance at me."
"She's my sister."
"Hmm." Cesare smiled enigmatically and changed the subject.
"You're saying I made things harder for you?"
"Exactly." Adele sighed involuntarily.
"Originally, I planned to win with four Aces, but then you arrived and..."
"There was no guarantee your opponent wouldn't have a straight flush or royal flush."
"Yes. It was quite a struggle to reposition all the cards. If I hadn't practiced beforehand, I would have failed." Adele said, collecting the cards. She had never taxed her mind so completely in her life. One wrong move and she would have become the greatest con artist to ever rob Buonaparte of a pension. Cesare took the cards, examined them, and muttered with intrigue.
"You learned this technique from Clarice Donati."
It was a strange way of speaking.
So it took Adele a beat too long to realize the horror of those words. She asked after a moment, as calmly as she could manage.
"...How is Clarice doing?"
Cesare paused in his examination of the cards. Presently he said cheerfully:
"She's fine."
"...I see." Adele replied quickly and turned away, as if no conversation had ever taken place.
"As long as you didn't put me in danger, that's fine."
Cesare tucked away his cards and turned to her as she gazed out the window.
"I think you studied quite a bit. I'm sorry you couldn't put it to use." The thought he had been unconsciously holding slipped from his mouth. Adele paused before answering, watching the streetscape drift past the window. Before going to the salon, Palmina Genobl had been a terrifying figure in Adele's mind—someone who wielded unknown weapons that only nobility could access, ready to make an example of her.
But what was the reality? To them, it didn't seem to matter whether Adele was worthy of nobility or not.
Palmina, their ringleader, had been blinded by money and swept up in fraudulent gambling. It was a common sight in Kimora's gambling dens. She remembered Cesare's remark that everyone was a scoundrel except himself. Even though she had thought they were the same as her, she recalled how intimidated she had been by their splendor.
Adele laughed softly.
"Nobility. There's nothing special about it."
"That's right."
---
Cesare spoke as soon as they returned to the resort.
"Holt! We're having a small party, so don't let anyone in."
"Pardon? What's this about all of a sudden?"
"I won at Hold'em."
"Pardon?" Holt's voice rose in disbelief. Cesare laughed out loud.
"I don't believe it either, but we must celebrate this day. Don't we have a ceremonial tent in the storeroom? The one we should have used last year. Something in blue velvet."
"My lord, that tent holds a hundred people. Do you want to set it up? We'd have to evict all the resort guests."
Cesare waved him off and walked toward the grounds, his arm draped companionably over Adele's shoulder. His drive and energy were tremendous. Adele felt slightly bewildered by his strangely cheerful smile. After Ezra's marriage proposal, he had given some absurd excuse and shut everyone out. Now he had only won one game of Hold'em...
However, when Cesare caught her dissatisfied expression, his eyes curved like half-moons and he smiled beautifully.
"Hmm?"
"......"
It was a smile so fresh it was almost frustrating. She decided to indulge him just this once. If he had been losing at Hold'em his entire life, then yes, it could be exciting...
Buonaparte's swift servants quickly prepared the space. Candles and softly-lit lily of the valley lanterns hung over the green velvet lawn. Fine drinks and food covered the table. A gramophone, placed where a string orchestra might have stood, played moderately upbeat music.
Cesare sat down with Adele, Eponi, Aegir, and Gigi, a mischievous smile on his face.
"I'm feeling a little better today, so who wants to guess why?"
Even Eponi laughed as if she couldn't help herself. Gigi, on the other hand, squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
"Haha. Boss. I'm not going to make it...."
"Sit properly and watch. I'll play fair."
"Let me show you the Kimora-style blitz."
Gigi launched into his explosive playing style, leaving Eponi stunned and Aegir strangely appreciative. Then he whispered to Adele.
"Miss. I think I've done something, so you're going to kick me later, right?"
Adele was puzzled but simply nodded, seeing the proud look in Gigi's eyes as he spoke.
Everyone raised their glasses and drank deeply. The people of Fornatier savored their pleasures and never refused a drink. The shoeshine lady, the most extravagant prodigal son in the country, the former princess's lady-in-waiting, the son of a maid with a story to tell, and finally the assistant secretary from Kimora—all played together with casual ease.
"Ha! I can't help but dance on this joyful day."
Cesare, who had drunk a great deal of whiskey, pulled everyone to their feet. The five danced in a jumbled fashion. They danced polkas, mazurkas, and three-person waltzes. Gigi performed a deadly serious quickstep with an invisible partner. Even Aegir laughed at the sight.
The dancing lasted until dawn and ended only when Eponi shook her head.
"I can't do any more. I need to rest."
"Oh dear. Eponi! That's not what I taught you."
"I've lived twice as long as you, so of course you didn't teach me."
"Hmm. I wouldn't have known—you look my age."
Smiling with charming dimples, Cesare kissed Eponi's cheek affectionately.
"May the sea goddess watch over Eponi's night."
It was an unusually long evening farewell. His voice was so sweet that Adele's cheeks flushed slightly. Eponi smiled lovingly like a mother and patted Cesare on the shoulder with a tender touch.
*I should get up soon.*
By then Adele had come to her senses and surveyed the table. Bottles overflowed everywhere, and Cesare showed no sign of stopping, bringing in more wine.
"Then I should...."
"You can't." Before she could finish, Cesare immediately seized Adele's hand. Before she knew it, she had been dragged onto the grass, where he took a waltz position. Over Cesare's shoulder, she could see Aegir and Gigi tidying up.
"Shouldn't we go inside? It's already dawn."
"Just a little longer."
Cesare shifted to shield her back. She looked up and saw an expression on his face that seemed almost bewildered.
"There's no lady like Miss Adele to dance with. The ladies of Fornatier are all so short."
"But they all dance very well."
"So do you."
Cesare said this and began moving with deliberate, sweeping steps. Without thinking, Adele matched him. Cesare laughed and wrinkled his nose slightly.
"See!"
It was a smile as bright as the midsummer sun. She couldn't help but smile back a little. She didn't know what was happening, but he was strangely sweet and jovial today, so Adele decided to go along with him a while longer.
The waltz went on endlessly. As if drawing his energy from the sea itself, he never tired. The resort lights were the first to dim. All that remained were the lights adorning the courtyard and Cesare before her.
As Adele slowed, exhausted, Cesare drew her close, half-embracing her.
"Foxtrot. Not bad."
Having said that, he moved slowly and languidly, like a ferry drifting on calm waters. With a soft hum. Adele was conscious of their chests touching, but she was so exhausted that she gave up halfway and dropped her forehead against his chest.
There was a low laugh from above, but who cared anymore.