At this moment, the crowd that had been watching Fabri speak noticed the commotion here.
But it seemed the onlookers couldn't grasp the situation right away, and Anning heard someone murmuring in a low voice: "What's happening, are the young noblemen showing off and getting jealous?"
Anning remembered that he was now also wearing trousers, and he also had a Maid with him, so he was not identified as one of their own by the long-trousers folks.
However, this was only temporary because the one who had a glove thrown at him immediately helped Anning out.
"God's navel!" he exclaimed in a French phrase close to the meaning of "damn," "A leatherworker's son dares to throw my glove? I am Earl Reginald! My father is Marquis Li Xia'er!"
Anning sneered: "What Earl, do you have a title? Just calling yourself Earl! You're no different than me, just an ordinary commoner!"
The offspring of a Marquis is referred to as Earl, which is actually a courtesy title, not to say that he really holds the title of an Earl. Titles are passed down after the death of the current holder according to the order of succession.
Now the surrounding spectators understood the situation, and the long-trousers folks immediately sided with Anning, beginning to shout in support: "That's right! The Marquis is your father, we call you Earl just out of politeness!"
"Beat the leatherworker's son to death!"
Reginald couldn't contain his anger: "What did you say? I am a noble! Even if I haven't inherited the title, I am different from you commoners! How dare you compare yourselves to us?"
"What's different?" Mabuli stood next to Anning, "Your Earl is an honorary title, I am a real Earl, and I don't see myself as any different from this leatherworker's son!"
With that, Mabuli turned to Anning: "Well done, young man! Bravely saying no to the nobles! A duel needs a witness for both sides, and I am willing to be yours!"
Anning nodded: "Thank you, Sir Mabuli..."
"Call me Mister." Mabuli corrected, "A title is just a title, some people just can't see that, and thus deceive themselves and others!"
Anning nodded again, then said to the man called Reginald: "How about it? I now have a witness here, and so many people watching. If you refuse to duel, you will become the laughingstock of all of Paris! Tomorrow, every tavern will spread the story that Marquis Li Xia'er's son was scared witless by a leatherworker's son!"
Reginald laughed: "Hmph, you think I would refuse? What a joke, I've been trained in the best swordsmanship since I was a child!
"Although my brothers trained only to get by, I'm different, my swordsmanship is genuine and authentic! What's a duel anyway, I accept! Better write a letter to your parents in the countryside quickly, to collect your corpse!"
Reginald finished, and his followers laughed: "Who would have thought that someone would be so blind as to challenge you, Regi, to a duel!"
"Don't they know Regi has already won three duels?"
Well, it seems this Reginald is indeed a dueling victor.
Reginald: "We'll also provide a witness on our side, and we need a third-party witness. I suggest asking the Duke to serve as one..."
At that moment, a voice came through: "The Duke probably doesn't have such time, let me serve as the third-party witness."
Anning followed the voice and saw a tall, well-dressed gentleman who seemed to be a Priest.
"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Emmanuel Sais, as you can see, a Priest. I think my status should pose no problem in serving as a third-party witness."
Anning was shocked, what a day it had been. First, he met Mabuli and now Sais. Were historical figures from the Great Revolution lining up to make an appearance?
This Sais, although a Priest and part of the First Class of the Third Estate, had defected to the Third Class side and written a famous pamphlet entitled "What Is the Third Class?"
This pamphlet contained a famous saying: What is the Third Class? It's everything!
But then Anning thought that the Royal Palace was now essentially the center of the dissemination of Enlightenment thinking in Paris, and it was likely that living progressives in Paris would occasionally show up at the Royal Palace.
Therefore, it would be normal to encounter one or two progressive individuals near the Royal Palace.
Reginald looked pleased: "Excellent! Now we have enough witnesses. Priest, you set the time for the duel. As the one challenged, I have the right to choose the weapon, and I choose the rapier as the dueling weapon!"
Sais: "That is your right, but let me first ask this leatherworker's son about the time. Is tomorrow afternoon good?"
Anning nodded: "No problem, tomorrow afternoon. As for the location, I'm not very familiar with Paris, is there a place in Paris where the son of a noble can be splattered with blood without seeming out of place?"
"There is a lawn near the Bois de Boulogne that's quite nice," someone from the crowd shouted, "I went there for an outing just this spring."
Anning glanced at the person who had shouted and found him to be a gentleman dressed like an intellectual, wearing a monocle.
Anning guessed that he might be a clerk in a mercantile business or an official from the Paris city administration.
Paris by now had nurtured a quite substantial petty bourgeois population, and these people would later become part of the sans-culottes, swept up in the torrents of the times.
Emmanuel Sais nodded: "Very well! It's decided then, on the grassland north of the Bois de Boulogne, tomorrow afternoon! Please arrive on time with your witnesses!"
After Sais spoke, he turned to look at Anning: "Sir, I have yet to ask for your esteemed name."
"I am Andy Frost, son of a leatherworker," Anning deliberately added his father's occupation.
Sais sighed: "Honestly, I greatly admire your courage, but challenging a noble who has won duels repeatedly is clearly unwise. Tomorrow, I will do my best, hoping that you survive the duel."
After he finished, Sais looked at Mabuli: "Mr. Mabuli, I hadn't expected you to get caught up in such matters."
"Mabuli, you should have seen Mr. Frost's courage just now. If every individual from the Third Estate had such courage, France would undergo earth-shattering changes!" Mabuli was evidently excited, and it turned out that he and Sais were old friends.
Anning really wanted to tell the two that it was not courage that the Third Estate of France lacked, but rather a famine.
Sais patted Anning's shoulder, then said to Mabuli: "Well, my friend, perhaps we can find a nearby café that's still open and have a drink. Mr. Frost, I'll see you tomorrow."
Anning nodded.
Subsequently, Sais and Mabuli departed.
Reginald stepped forward, pointing at Anning's throat: "That priest and Mabuli seem to think being a witness will save your life! Naive. Tomorrow will be your day of death. A person like you doesn't deserve to be around Miss Tolleson!"
Anning smirked scornfully: "Try it if you can. I'm someone who has survived the battlefield where life and death are at stake; you, who have only played at dueling, are no match for me."
Reginald huffed and left with a bunch of his noble friends.
By then, the crowd of onlookers began to disperse, chatting about the duel tomorrow while heading to nearby taverns.
Only Vanni with her drooping eyelids remained by Anning's side.
Vanni: "You fool! That Reginald has already killed two men close to Miss and injured another in duels! He seems to think only he is worthy of her! By provoking him, you're playing right into his hands.
"If you hadn't thrown your glove, Reginald wouldn't have stooped to challenge a commoner to a duel!"
Anning: "Are nobles not allowed to challenge commoners to duels?"
Vanni grumpily responded: "Because it would be very disgraceful. Any activity associated with commoners would bring shame to nobles." "But you, idiot, have done them a favor."
Anning raised his eyebrows: "Why are you so angry?"
"When I see people doing foolish things, it makes me angry."
"But I might not necessarily lose tomorrow."
In fact, Anning felt he was almost certain to win tomorrow.
After all, he had someone looking out for him.
Vanni rolled her eyes: "Hmph, if you win tomorrow, then I'll..."
Anning waited a few seconds and seeing Vanni get stuck, he asked, "Then you'll what?"
"I haven't thought of it yet! Anyway, I'll give you some sort of reward! But I see it as improbable; tomorrow I'll be representing your parents to claim your body. Imagine the sorrow on your parents' faces when they receive the death notice!"
Anning curled his lip, and only now did he remember, having safely returned to Paris, that he should probably send a letter to his parents in the countryside near Caen to assure them of his safety.
Anning recalled that in this family, his brother should be literate and could read the letter to his parents.
Then, Vanni sighed: "Well, you might be dying tomorrow, but for today, I'm still your servant. Come inside, I'll bring you your meal."