"Can you guys manage or not? Eight years old? Do you think I am one of those Catholic bishops?"
Jero Bonaparte couldn’t help but loudly reprimand Valerovsky. Although the eldest princess of the Sardinian Kingdom was a virtuous wife in alternate history, that was nine years later.
Fuming, Jero Bonaparte placed his hands behind his back, paced back and forth in the study twice, then continued to scold in front of Valerovsky: "An eight-year-old Empress? If that gets out, won’t they laugh us to death!"
Valerovsky hung his head, pretending to listen attentively to Jero’s criticism, but internally he wished to dash in front of a certain damn Sardinian Minister of Agriculture and give him a good scolding.
Why did I ever get the crazy idea to put that na on the alternate list?
Valerovsky suddenly rembered that the Minister of Agriculture had given him a gemstone and then asked him to also add the Sardinian Dynasty Princess to the alternate list. Greedy, he agreed to the request, and the "Empress" at eight was added to the list.
When he found out about the strange age of the Sardinian Kingdom princess, the Sardinian Kingdom’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs was negotiating with the French Republic’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Next, Valerovsky reported to Jero Bonaparte, praying inwardly that the Emperor wouldn’t pick Sardinian Kingdom.
Who would’ve thought he’d really inquire about the Sardinian Dynasty princess?
Why can’t I control this hand of mine!
Valerovsky felt so regret inside and could only sheepishly push all the bla onto a certain Minister of Agriculture.
"Are you saying you were deceived by the Sardinian Kingdom’s Minister of Agriculture?" Jero Bonaparte looked at Valerovsky with suspicion. He found this story hard to believe.
"Indeed! I do bear significant responsibility for this matter!" Valerovsky candidly apologized to Jero Bonaparte. He knew when to conceal and when to be honest; moreover, this issue did not involve fundantal interests. France had many options concerning the Empress!
"I’d like to know exactly who could deceive you?" Jero Bonaparte was certain that anyone capable of tricking Valerovsky so completely would not be an unknown figure in Italy’s history.
"His na is Cavour! Currently the Minister of Agriculture for the Sardinian Kingdom! However, I hear he has a good relationship with the King of Sardinia. Rumors say he might beco the Pri Minister of the Sardinian Kingdom!" Valerovsky explained to Jero Bonaparte.
"Cavour?" Jero Bonaparte imdiately displayed an expression of understanding, nodding in response: "If it’s him, then everything makes sense!"
"Your Majesty, do you know him?" Valerovsky asked Jero Bonaparte, puzzled.
"You could say I know him! He’s quite a formidable character!" Jero Bonaparte vaguely replied to Valerovsky.
If the first contributor to Italian unification was Louis Napoleon and his French Army, then the second was undoubtedly Count Cavour, with the likes of Mazzini and Garibaldi following in third.
The key to Italian unification was persuading France to join the war against Austria through diplomatic ans. Cavour managed to entice Napoleon III with Nice and Savoy, and got him to willingly send troops, decisively annexing the Central Italian States at the most crucial mont.
This insight and courage are not sothing ordinary people possess. If it weren’t for the significant weaknesses of the Sardinian Kingdom itself, Savoy and Nice might not have been annexed by France. By then, Cavour would have essentially gotten French aid for free without paying.
How could Valerovsky stand a chance against soone who could so expertly manipulate diplomacy like this?
Jero Bonaparte’s evaluation of Cavour caused Valerovsky to beco cautious, pondering for a mont, he realized Cavour had indeed taken advantage of his own impatience at the ti to succeed.
So what was his true objective? Could he really intend for an eight-year-old princess to beco Empress?
Valerovsky furrowed his brow. Cavour was the most challenging figure he had encountered so far.
"Where is Cavour now? In France?" Jero Bonaparte inquired once more to Valerovsky.
"Ah!" Valerovsky, snapping back to reality, relaxed his furrowed brow and quickly responded: "Yes, Sir!"
"That old fox!" Jero Bonaparte smiled and shook his head, then said to Valerovsky: "In a mont, head to Cavour’s residence in Paris and in your na, invite him for a hunt in the Bois de Boulogne tomorrow morning!"
"Yes!"
Though Valerovsky didn’t understand why Jero Bonaparte wanted to invite Cavour, he chose to follow the order.
"Your Majesty, where would you like to start?" Valerovsky asked Jero Bonaparte again about the marriage issue.
"Start with Karelinna Vach!" Jero Bonaparte decisively chose the simplest option, a descendant of a fallen Swedish royal, then reminded: "Don’t engage directly with the Vach family; they have no control over their marriage decisions! The most crucial part is to persuade the Austrian Minister of Foreign Affairs, Felix Schwarzenberg. Once he agrees, negotiations are already half successful!"
The reason for past failures in alternate history was largely due to diplomats overlooking the Habsburg influence on Karelinna Vach.
A seventeen-year-old child, she had no real choice in the matter herself.
"Understood!" Valerovsky nodded and replied, "I will report this truthfully to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."
"And... keep an eye on the Fu Teng side as well! If Karelinna Vach doesn’t work out..." Jero Bonaparte reminded once again.
Valerovsky nodded again to indicate understanding. As he was about to leave the study, Jero Bonaparte’s voice ca once more: "For the matter of inviting Cavour, don’t go in person, just have a servant invite him!"
"Yes!"
...
Morning of November 26, Sardinian Embassy in France.
"Count Cavour, are you really going to Bois de Boulogne?" A diplomat-looking personnel asked a round-bodied man with a round face and a pair of round-frad glasses resting on his nose.
"Invited by the host, how can I stand them up?" The round man... no, Count Cavour replied with a sincere smile.
"Now, they’ve already discovered your age falsification, they might be out for recrimination! You should go back ho!" The envoy earnestly advised Cavour, perplexed as to why Cavour independently bribed to register His Majesty’s daughter with France. It’s hard to imagine that France would choose an eight-year-old girl in any case.
"Recrimination?" Cavour removed his glasses and gently blew air onto the lenses. Since it’s winter, the vapor instantly condensed on the lenses, making them misty. He then took out a handkerchief and wiped the lenses slowly, replying deliberately: "I rather think they want to invite to discuss so matters, everyone supposed to co will probably be there!"
After Cavour’s cleaning, the lenses beca clearer, and Cavour placed the glasses back on his nose.
"What matters?" The envoy was slightly puzzled by Cavour’s aning.
"Secret!" Cavour responded mysteriously, "Honestly, I ca to France on a secret mission entrusted to by His Majesty! Would you like to hear it?"
"Hehe!" The envoy let out a dry laugh, "I’d rather not!"
"Prepare a carriage, I will need it shortly!" Cavour suppressed his smile and responded to the envoy with a serious expression.
"Yes!" The envoy promptly replied.
Under the envoy’s arrangent, the carriage quickly halted at the embassy’s entrance.
Count Cavour boarded the carriage. After leaving the embassy, it moved southwest along the Seine River. Due to Rivoli Street still being widened and refurbished, the carriage had to take a detour to Bois de Boulogne, extending what originally was a journey of a bit more than 20 minutes to nearly 40 minutes.
When Cavour’s carriage arrived at the edge of the Bois de Boulogne, two cuirassiers halted Cavour’s carriage.
The cuirassiers approached Cavour’s carriage and said indifferently, "Follow !"
The carriage followed the cuirassiers into the Bois de Boulogne and soon arrived at a house in the depths of the forest. From the chimney atop the house, wisps of white smoke curled into the air.
The cuirassiers dismounted, and Cavour also stepped out penetrated, coming to the front of the house.
"Please enter!" The two ard soldiers guarding the door quickly opened it upon seeing Cavour’s arrival.
Cavour entered the room, and in this simple room with only a carpet, a fireplace, and a few chairs, he t the person he had co to see this ti.
"Mr. Cavour, we’ve t!" Jero Bonaparte said in a flat tone.
"Honorable Your Majesty the Emperor!" Cavour bowed deeply to Jero Bonaparte, addressing him as Emperor.
"I’m not an Emperor yet!" Jero Bonaparte gestured to a nearby chair and said to Cavour, "Have a seat!"
Cavour sat down opposite Jero Bonaparte.
Jero Bonaparte assessed Cavour, noticing that compared to historical portraits, Cavour seed significantly more stout.
One must admit, an excellent painter can also be akin to a photoshop artist.
"Speak! Why recomnd an 8-year-old princess? Have you fallen so low in the Kingdom of Sardinia that you have to use an eight-year-old princess for marriage alliances?" Jero Bonaparte slyly remarked.
"This represents our Majesty’s regard for Your Imperial Majesty!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)