Chapter 19 – Danse Macabre

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“Carmen’s White Shoes.”

These were the shoes worn by Carmen, the gypsy dancer from Danse Macabre, a play by the Gallian playwright Camille Sansong.

They were Mary Jane heels, made of white leather, with straps adorned with gold and diamonds.

The shoes had an exaggeratedly large toe and a high heel.

They were beautiful enough to make any woman envious.

And given their fame, their value would only increase.

The problem was that these shoes were not just beautiful—they were cursed.

“My, are those really Carmen’s shoes? Could they be genuine?”

Frederica, who seemed to have heard of the shoes before, spoke with a mix of curiosity and wonder.

Her reaction was one of pure fascination.

Frederica was amazed to see the famous shoes from the opera in person.

If I had seen King Arthur’s Excalibur in my past life, I might have reacted the same way.

“Edelweiss…?”

Seeing my stiff expression, Frederica cautiously called out to me.

“Are those shoes… really genuine?”

Her voice carried a hint of disbelief, as if she couldn’t believe the shoes might be real.

“Yes, they are the real Carmen’s White Shoes.”

Indeed, these were the shoes Carmen had worn.

The play was based on a true story, and the shoes she wore in the opera were real.

The opera Danse Macabre tells the tragic tale of a man’s love and jealousy for a gypsy dancer.

A Prussian nobleman, the Baron of Bavaria, meets Carmen, a gypsy woman dancing in the streets.

Enchanted by her dance, the Baron invites her to his estate.

Carmen, now treated as a guest of the Baron, dances for his noble friends.

Though initially dismissed as a lowly gypsy, Carmen’s talent wins over the nobles.

The Baron’s feelings for Carmen grow, and he eventually proposes to her.

But Carmen, burdened by the nobleman’s advances, rejects him.

Despite her refusal, the Baron continues to shower her with gifts.

Carmen rejects most of his gifts, but there is one she cannot refuse—the white shoes.

Captivated by their beauty, Carmen accepts the shoes, and the Baron takes this as a sign that she might return his feelings.

But this is where the tragedy begins.

Carmen still has no intention of accepting the Baron’s love.

She only dances at his request during his banquets.

One day, Carmen meets a young knight named Johann at the estate.

The two fall in love at first sight and soon become lovers.

They meet in secret, but the Baron eventually discovers their affair.

Consumed by jealousy, the Baron plots to kill them.

Carmen and Johann attempt to flee, but they are caught.

Brought before the Baron, they resign themselves to death.

But the Baron makes Carmen an offer:

“If you dance until your death , I will spare Johann.”

Thus begins the Danse Macabre, the scene that gives the opera its name.

Carmen, desperate to save her lover, agrees to the Baron’s terms.

The banquet hall fills with music, and Carmen begins to dance.

She dances with all her strength, her life force burning away.

Her legs bleed, her skin peels, and sweat pours down her face, but she does not stop.

She dances until her life force is completely spent, collapsing lifelessly to the floor.

The opera ends here.

What happens afterward is not depicted, but the outcome is undoubtedly tragic.

“What happened to Sir Johann?”

Frederica murmured, recalling the opera’s story.

She was curious about the fate of the man Carmen had sacrificed her life to save.

Of course, she didn’t expect me to know the answer—it was just a passing thought.

But I did know what happened afterward.

“The Baron broke his promise. Sir Johann was executed.”

“What…?”

It was perhaps an inevitable outcome.

Blinded by jealousy, the Baron had no intention of sparing the man who had taken Carmen’s love.

If Carmen had refused to dance, the Baron might have let Johann live.

But Carmen chose to dance, sacrificing her life for her lover.

The Baron, consumed by jealousy, broke his promise.

“That’s… heartbreaking.”

Frederica wore a sorrowful expression at the bitter ending.

“So those shoes really are the ones Carmen wore…”

“Yes, and they’re not ordinary shoes.”

“What do you mean?”

Frederica’s interest was piqued again as I spoke about the shoes.

In the opera, Carmen dances until her death.

Of course, in the performance, the actress playing Carmen only pretends to collapse after dancing.

But could a real person dance until they died?

It might be possible, but it would be incredibly difficult.

Most people would collapse or lose consciousness long before death.

So how did Carmen manage to dance until her death?

The answer lies in her heritage.

“Not all gypsies are sorcerers, but it’s true that gypsy blood carries a talent for magic.”

“You don’t mean…!”

Yes, Carmen must have wished fervently as she danced.

Her emotions awakened the latent magical talent in her blood, allowing her to dance until her death.

“It was a curse. A curse to dance until death. And that curse still lingers in those shoes.”

Frederica’s eyes widened in shock at my words.

Cursed shoes.

Frederica looked at the shoes with a complex expression, thinking of the tragic love story behind them.

“What will you do?”

At Frederica’s question, I sighed and placed a bid.

It was an unexpected expense, but I had no choice.

I didn’t need the shoes, but I couldn’t leave them here.

Few people knew the truth about the shoes and the curse.

If they fell into the wrong hands, there would surely be more victims.

I couldn’t ignore that.

I didn’t care if some random person died, but if someone important became a victim, it would be a headache.

It was better to keep such a dangerous item close and under control.

Fortunately, there weren’t many bidders.

Perhaps because it was the first item, or because people doubted its authenticity, the price didn’t go as high as I expected.

Once the bid was confirmed, I sighed and leaned back in my seat.

35,800 marks—an unplanned expense.

But I had prepared enough funds, so it wasn’t a big problem.

Frederica gave me a wry smile.

Buying shoes I couldn’t even wear was better than letting them cause trouble elsewhere.

The rest of the auction items were unremarkable.

Afshar diamonds, the Holy Grail of Tullius, Jingdezhen porcelain, the Kama Sutra, ivory from poachers—

Fakes, knockoffs, junk, and trinkets.

None of the items were worth much.

But that was to be expected at a black market auction.

The auction house might appraise the items, but this was still a black market.

The authenticity and value of the items were naturally questionable.

Of course, the bidders knew this, so the prices didn’t go too high.

Occasionally, a truly rare item would appear.

And that was why people attended these auctions—to find hidden treasures.

Most of the time, they left empty-handed.

“Next up is Van Gogh’s Sunflowers!”

The auctioneer’s announcement brought a painting to the stage.

A single sunflower on a canvas, painted with Van Gogh’s signature bold, swirling strokes.

A simple depiction of a vase with sunflowers, but it left a strong impression.

Unfortunately, it was a fake.

“That painting…”

Frederica reacted to the painting.

She smiled knowingly, clearly aware that it was a forgery.

After all, the original was safely stored in the Valenberg vault.

The auction continued, and finally, Caspar’s painting came up.

People were skeptical of its authenticity but still bid on the rare item.

Of course, I had no intention of letting it go to anyone else.

“580,000 marks! 580,000 marks! Any higher bids?”

The auctioneer called out the price, but no one raised their bid.

“580,000 marks! Caspar’s Lohengrin Castle of Neuschwanstein is sold for 580,000 marks!”

The painting was mine.

With the desired item secured, I stood up, as there was nothing else of interest.

“Is this really Caspar’s painting…?”

Frederica gazed at the painting with fascination as I paid for it.

She quietly admired the work that had captivated so many.

“Is it genuine…?”

After a while, Frederica turned to me and asked.

My answer was a simple “Yes.”

“If you’re asking whether Caspar painted it, the answer is yes.”

Frederica looked surprised.

She hadn’t expected to see Caspar’s disputed final work in person.

Of course, she didn’t doubt my words.

She had seen me reveal many secrets before, so she trusted me.

“By the way, Caspar painted an imaginary castle… Did he become more sentimental in his later years?”

Frederica jokes, but I shook my head.

“Caspar never painted anything from his imagination in his entire life.”

“What do you mean?”

Frederica looked puzzled.

If this painting was truly Caspar’s final work, then he had painted an imaginary castle in his later years.

But my claim that he had never painted anything imaginary seemed contradictory.

So I gave her the answer.

“Lohengrin Castle exists.”

I smiled, while enjoying Frederica’s stunned expression