Jean de Kerdren

A bright morning finds the French Mediterranean fleet gliding into Nice’s harbor, its polished canoes lining the steps like an elegant parade. Amid the crisp‑uniformed officers and bustling seamen, a solitary guitarist retires to his cabin, fingers tracing a slow waltz on a newly bought instrument. The sea lies glass‑smooth, the city readies for its famed carnival, and a light‑hearted banter ripples through the decks.

Rumors flutter among the sailors about the enigmatic Jean de Kerdrun, a Breton count whose family history is said to stretch back to the age of King Arthur, though some historians trace it only to Charlemagne’s later realm. The officers tease each other, wondering whether Kerdrun is a harmless eccentric, a reclusive musician, or a secretive schemer, since he has remained ashore with only his guitar and a beginner’s method for practice. As the fleet settles for the carnival’s three‑day celebration, a palpable curiosity builds, hinting that the count’s eventual appearance could shift the tide of both music and mischief on the shores of Nice.