If it weren't for the fact that the banquet was full of dignitaries and he didn't want to cause a scene, Roland might have already called for this woman to be arrested.
"Sure, I was just thinking about going for a walk myself," Roland said with a smile, curious to see what she was up to.
So, Roland and Anya left the center of the banquet and walked outside. This scene was noticed by Napoleon, who promptly gave Roland another thumbs-up, as if to say, "That's my nephew! Impressive, bagging such a beautiful woman so quickly, even better than me."
His friend Malin had a similar reaction. Seeing Roland chatting happily with a beautiful woman, Malin had a knowing look on his face.
"Damn it, when did Malin start acting like this? Has he given up his stoic soldier image?" Roland thought. He looked at Malin, whose eyes were full of mischievous glint, and then Roland seemed to remember something. He quickly gestured to Malin.
"Hmm?"
Sure enough, Malin's puzzled expression deepened when he saw Roland's gesture.
Unfortunately, there was no chance to talk further as Anya led Roland out of the banquet.
...
"You seem very nervous," Anya said, tilting her head as they walked along the shaded path outside.
Although Roland felt shy around her, Anya didn't mind. In fact, she found the boy in front of her quite interesting.
In her experience, such noble young men were usually surrounded by women. In fact, in European high society, many young nobles were indeed playboys. Even Napoleon had once had a mistress.
So, in the eyes of French high society, someone like Roland was indeed an "oddity."
"I'm fine. But you, you seem to know a lot about me. Did you know me before?" Roland asked, turning to Anya.
"Of course!" Anya replied.
"My brother is Jobst, and I often hear him talk about you," Anya said playfully.
"Wha... what? You're Jobst's sister?" Roland was so shocked by Anya's revelation that his mouth could have fit an egg.
"You... you're Jobst's sister? I never heard that Jobst had a sister, especially someone like you," Roland said, looking at Anya in disbelief. He knew what Jobst looked like: chubby and round, a typical couch potato. That such a person could have such a beautiful sister was hard for Roland to believe.
"I remember visiting your family's home in the province of Turin, but I don't recall seeing you," Roland said, recalling his brief leave during the First Coalition War when he had visited Jobst's home.
If he had seen Anya, her beauty would have been unforgettable.
"Hehe, that's because I was studying in the Netherlands. I only returned recently," Anya explained, delighted.
"Oh, that explains it! No wonder I don't remember you. Jobst is really lucky to have such a lovely sister," Roland said enviously. In his past life, Roland had been an only child, always wishing for a sibling to share his life with.
"Speaking of which, how is Jobst doing lately? I've been in Italy and haven't kept up with things in Paris," Roland asked, intending to make polite conversation. His duties in Italy left him little time to think about Paris.
"My... my brother..."
Roland's casual inquiry seemed to hit a nerve. Anya's eyes visibly reddened, and tears began to well up.
"What's wrong?" Roland asked, suddenly flustered. He had no experience dealing with crying women.
"Did I make her cry? Is it because of me?" Various thoughts flooded Roland's mind, leaving him even more confused about what was happening.
"Mr. Roland, my brother... my brother was taken by bad people," Anya suddenly cried out.
"What? Your brother was taken? You mean Jobst?" Roland said, astonished.
"Yes!" Anya sobbed.
"What happened? Tell me everything," Roland urged, stepping closer and gently placing a comforting hand on Anya's shoulder.
"Strange. How could Jobst be suddenly taken? Could it be because his Jewish identity was exposed?" Roland pondered. Even so, it didn't make sense. Europe was still relatively "open-minded" at this time, not as anti-Semitic as in later eras. So why was Jobst taken?
Roland couldn't figure it out.
"I... I don't know either. It seems to be something about the arms factory. Someone targeted my brother, demanding he hand over the factory. But my brother refused because he co-founded it with some important figure. After being refused, the person got angry and framed my brother for treason, which led to his arrest. To save him, I snuck into the banquet to find my brother's friend, the important figure he mentioned, intending to seduce him," Anya explained tearfully.
"What? Seduce? Why would you seduce me?" Roland was taken aback by Anya's sudden confession.
"Because I'm beautiful. The villain who wants to take over my brother's factory also has his eyes on me. He wanted to take me away, but my brother saved me, allowing me to escape," Anya said defiantly. As she spoke, she puffed out her chest, apparently annoyed by Roland's disbelief, wanting to demonstrate her allure.
"Uh, no need for that. What's important now is for you to tell me who took Jobst so I can rescue him," Roland said, trying to refocus the conversation.
"Really? You'll just agree like that? I don't need to pay any price? No need to offer myself?" Anya asked in surprise. Roland's response was different from what she expected based on her readings.
"You little rascal, what are you thinking about all day? Can't you be serious for once?" Roland said, exasperated. He was now completely convinced that the girl before him was indeed Jobst's sister, as they both shared the same unpredictability and unreliability.
"Alright, now quickly tell me who took Jobst," Roland urged anxiously. His urgency was not merely due to the plea of a beautiful woman but because Jobst was very important to him.
Jobst was not only a good friend but also his representative at the arms factory. If anything happened to him, Roland's factory would undoubtedly be affected.
Moreover, Anya had already mentioned that the person was targeting his arms factory. The pressing question now was: who was behind this? Was it a foreign adversary or someone from within their own country?
After all, Napoleon had announced plans to procure over 100,000 Model 01 rifles. At a price of 800 francs per rifle, this amounted to an 80 million franc order. This was a substantial sum, considering that the war reparations France received from the Italian campaign were only 30 million francs.
As the saying goes, "wealth moves the heart," and such enormous profits would certainly tempt many to take risks.
"The one who took my brother is..."
"Hahaha! Anya, I was wondering why I couldn't find you. Turns out you're here! You have some guts to sneak into such a banquet. But it's good, saves me the trouble of fetching you," a voice interrupted.