Outside the door, Lionel could only hear muffled, intermittent metallic clashing and footsteps, but he could imagine the intense swordplay within.
After a long while, a miserable cry came from behind the door, followed by hurried footsteps and gasps.
Lionel's heart suddenly tightened, and he shot up from his chair.
Who was it? Who was injured?
The sound was too muffled for him to fully distinguish.
He instinctively wanted to push the door open and enter, but just as his hand touched the cold doorknob, he stopped himself abruptly.
As a witness, theoretically, he could enter when the duel ended – he could even observe the entire duel from start to finish.
Of course, that was assuming Sophia agreed...
Now he could only stand frozen in place, his heart pounding violently in his chest, waiting for the people inside to come out and declare the result.
————
Inside the ballroom, however, the atmosphere had calmed down.
The female doctor quickly stepped forward to examine Sophia's wound.
The wound was indeed not deep, merely piercing the epidermis.
A lot of blood flowed, making it look alarming, but it had not injured bone or muscle.
The doctor skillfully stemmed the bleeding, cleaned the wound, and then began bandaging it with clean white gauze.
Sophia's face was pale, mainly due to the pain, but there was no expression of defeat on her face.
Instead, she was very calm, her ice-blue eyes unruffled.
Madame Rothschild put on the robe handed to her by the Marquise and silently tied the belt.
Her expression had returned to its usual languid and detached state, as if the fierce confrontation had never happened.
After a while, the doctor reported to the witnesses:
"The wound has been treated, nothing serious."
The Marquise de La Villeroy nodded, her gaze sweeping over Madame Rothschild and Sophia, and formally declared:
"According to the 'First Blood' rule, the duel is concluded.
Eleanor de Rothschild is victorious.
This dispute of honor is hereby settled!
I hope both of you will abide by your agreement, and no new conflicts will arise regarding this matter hereafter."
Sophia nodded, without speaking, a tacit agreement.
Madame Rothschild also merely gave a slight nod, indicating acceptance.
Only then did the Marquise de La Villeroy walk to the tightly closed ballroom door and open a crack.
The Marquise called out:
"Monsieur Sorel, the duel has ended, Madame Rothschild is victorious.
Mademoiselle Sherbatova has sustained a minor injury, which the doctor has already treated."
Lionel's suspended heart finally settled:
"Thank God..."
He, who didn't believe in God, uttered this catchphrase with such piety for the first time.
The Marquise looked at him:
"We're running a bit low on gauze. Would you mind fetching some more from the cabinet in the next room? The doctor needs it."
Lionel didn't think much of it and immediately nodded:
"Of course, Madame, I'll go at once."
He quickly retrieved the clean gauze and stood outside the door, hesitating on how to hand it in.
At that moment, the door creaked open a little wider, and a slender, well-proportioned hand reached out to take the gauze.
It was Madame Rothschild's hand.
At the instant the gauze was exchanged, her fingertips subtly and lightly brushed across Lionel's palm, like a feather.
Lionel's ears immediately felt a little warm.
Inside the door, Madame Rothschild's lips curved slightly upwards in a small arc.
She took the gauze, turned and handed it to the doctor, without sparing Lionel another glance.
The door gently closed again.
Lionel stood outside the door, letting out a long sigh of relief.
This absurd yet thrilling duel had finally ended without major incident.
He could imagine the secondary sensation it would cause in Paris when the crowds who had gone to the forest learned the news, and how the tabloid journalists would depict this "missing duel."
"A Study in Scarlet" would probably usher in a new wave of sales.
Only this time, accompanying the novel's fame would be the legendary duel between two noblewomen, a duel destined to go down in history.
And he himself, as the "fuse" for this legend and the only male witness present, would likely be the focus of Parisian salons for a long time to come.
"What a mess..." he again sighed softly in Chinese, rubbing his temples, feeling an unprecedented exhaustion.
——————
The final outcome of the duel between Madame Rothschild and Sophia indeed stirred up enormous waves in the public opinion across Paris and even the whole of Europe.
This duel, sparked by a literary debate, concerned noble honor, and its process was so dramatic...
Its popularity directly overshadowed the arguments in the French Parliament regarding whether to increase military spending in Vietnam or whether to completely ban the Jesuits.
The Parisian media were the first to descend into a frenzy.
Despite the inability to obtain details from the duel scene, this did not in the slightest hinder the journalists' unrestrained imagination.
Le Petit Journal, Le Lantern, and other tabloids were naturally the vanguard of this carnival.
They used extremely sensual and exaggerated prose to depict that "duel of the century" with no men present:
[Jade bodies displayed, sword light reflecting like snow! — Exclusive revelation of Madame Rothschild's private duel with the Russian Rose!]
Le Petit Journal's front-page headline was shocking, and the interior text was full of sensationalism:
[...Within that hidden ballroom, two exquisite beauties of distinguished birth, shedding their worldly finery, held gleaming, cold swords...
...Each of their breaths stirred their creamy skin, every parry and thrust showcased a blend of power and beauty...
...Sweat trickled down their smooth backs...
Ultimately, Madame Rothschild left the 'First Blood,' symbolizing victory and honor, on Mademoiselle Sherbatova's alluring arm! ...]
Such reports greatly stimulated the public's curiosity, and newspapers were snatched up as soon as they hit the stands.
People vied to pass them around, relishing the ambiguous yet imaginative descriptions in the articles.
The rule of "stripped to the waist" became the hottest topic of conversation on the streets, its popularity even surpassing the outcome of the duel itself.
More serious broadsheet newspapers took clear and conflicting stances, engaging in endless debate.
Le Figaro and liberal newspapers, while reporting on the matter, criticized the barbaric custom of dueling on one hand, yet could not hide their admiration on the other:
[...When a lady's honor was challenged, Madame Rothschild did not choose to suffer in silence but, with astonishing courage, picked up a weapon traditionally considered exclusive to men, defending her dignity in the most direct manner.
Does this not prove that, in terms of courage and sense of honor, women are in no way inferior to men? Perhaps, this is a manifestation of some awakening of female consciousness...]
Meanwhile, the conservative Le Gaulois and the church-backed La Croix argued that this was a desecration of the female role bestowed by God.
There was also a group of people who attempted to elevate the matter to the level of "national honor":
[...Madame Rothschild not only upheld personal honor but also the dignity of France!]
For a time, various views fiercely clashed in the Parisian newspapers, leading to incessant arguments.
Supporters and opponents each held their ground, imbuing this duel with significance far beyond its actual scope.
However, Parisian newspapers ultimately still needed to consider the Rothschild family's reputation and basic factual accuracy.
European media outside of Paris, however, had fewer inhibitions.
Madame Rothschild was merely a French noblewoman; Sophia was even just the daughter of a Russian aristocrat.
In London, for example, public opinion on this matter even began to "get out of control."
(End of chapter)