The heat in his face made the world feel surreal to Florent...
He could not help but press his cool fingers to his burning ears just as he would when drinking alcohol, using his hands to check his earlobes to ensure he was not getting too drunk.
This was one of Florent's habits. Whenever his teasing remarks were discovered by friends, his face would turn red.
He had thought this reaction would fade over time, after all, people's constitutions could not be generalized... but to his surprise, it had only grown more intense.
With his left hand pressed against his forehead and his right hand tugging at his earlobe, this strange posture startled both Quevedo and Erich.
Quevedo could only wonder whether he had made some inappropriate joke, but after careful consideration, he confirmed that he had not crossed any lines. He simply watched Florent with slight awkwardness.
After calming himself down from the embarrassment, Florent regained his usual composed demeanor.
Truth be told, spending time with people like Quevedo and Erich was relaxing.
There was no need to force smiles or cater to others, he could choose to remain quiet or laugh freely without having to wear a strained expression.
His cold hands rubbed together in front of his stomach, a sitting posture Florent particularly liked because it allowed him to relax completely:
"Ah, well... that was just a joke. I really thought I would be the first one here. Turns out I was wrong." Said Florent.
Seeing that his friend had recovered, Quevedo let out a relieved sigh and said, "As if I would let any of you arrive before me! A proper host should have everything prepared before the guests arrive. Though I'm not the host here, as your guide, I'd much rather be the one waiting for you than make you wait for me."
Erich who had been silent until now finally interjected, "However, I was the first one here. I'm a regular at Crimson Gold Café. I enjoy the atmosphere for reading, it's also quiet, and the lighting is just right. Well, 'lamplight' to be precise."
Hearing this, Florent glanced up at the café's light sources.
'Lamplight' referred to oil lamps, not electric lights. It seemed Roselle had not directly propelled the world into the electrical age, and it remained firmly in the steam era.
This made sense... The key to the electrical age was fossil fuels, and without petroleum in this world, electricity would remain a distant dream... Unless some visionary scientist managed to leapfrog into a 'coal-powered electrical era', but even that seemed unlikely.
Florent recalled his twelve years of education.
Petroleum was not just fuel, it was the raw material for countless industrial products. It was petroleum that had driven Earth's progress.
Coal on the other hand was inferior in both energy efficiency and versatility. But then again, this world had supernatural powers, perhaps it would take a completely different technological path...
Quevedo who had been bored just moments ago suddenly perked up at the sight of the oil lamps.
In an instant, he stood up and began enthusiastically lecturing about Roselle (the Son of Steam, the great Consul), his words pouring out like a torrent.
Florent and Erich both tuned him out, but Quevedo was relentless in his passion as he continued bombarding them with Roselle trivia, as if trying to convert them into fellow devotees.
Unfortunately, there was no 'rat-tail tonic' to interrupt him this time. Left with no choice, Florent and Erich could only endure his ramblings silently until Erich's sharp eyes noticed Karl stepping down from a carriage...
He immediately cut off Quevedo who was still mid-sentence, though admittedly, the man did possess an encyclopedic knowledge of Roselle.
Only then did Quevedo realize his throat was dry. He downed the last of his coffee in one gulp and followed Florent and Erich (who had long since finished theirs) to greet Karl.
Karl, ever sharp-eyed, scanned the street. Seeing no one else, his gaze quickly landed on the trio; Quevedo animated and exaggerated, Florent and Erich standing behind him with deadpan expressions.
Realizing his antics had been noticed, Quevedo immediately straightened up with an embarrassed cough, while the other two approached Karl at their usual unhurried pace.
Before Quevedo (always the most enthusiastic of the group) could speak, Karl greeted them first:
"Gentlemen," he said in flawless, aristocratic Intisian, the kind of polished accent common among nobles but rarely heard among commoners.
The more convoluted the phrasing, the more it emphasized one's high status, "...I had expected you to arrive precisely on time. A slight earliness is the epitome of etiquette, but excessive haste borders on impropriety."
Unlike Loen's nobles who favored fashionable lateness, those of Intis preferred arriving 'just' a little early...
On the Northern Continent, the relationship between Intis and Loen was much like that of Germany and France in Europe... different customs, mutual rivalry.
Feysac was akin to Russia, while Feynapotter resembled a less rapacious England.
Being a noble, Karl had a way of delivering subtly cutting remarks wrapped in elegant language like soft needles pricking at behavior he deemed improper.
But Quevedo, either oblivious or choosing to ignore it, simply laughed and pulled him into a hearty embrace.
Instinctively, Karl took a step back...
However, his first impression of Quevedo was that of a simple, impulsive friend... so earnestly warm, that it was almost endearing. With a sigh, he set aside noble decorum and returned the embrace.
Florent reflected on Quevedo's character...
The man had undeniable charisma. He was not particularly powerful, nor was he the most refined in manners, but there was an authenticity to him that made it impossible to dislike him. Warm but not overbearing, polite yet full of passion.
Florent decided that this was a friend he could trust. To be honest, he had initially been skeptical...
Reconnecting after so many years with only vague memories, and suddenly growing close again? Even with supernatural abilities involved, it had felt… unnatural.
Florent was cautious by nature, even timid. Things that defied logic set off alarms in his mind.
But now? Now he was certain.
Quevedo was the real deal...