"Where else can we go? Of course, to rally support for our Prince!"
Mathilde, sitting in front of Jero Bonaparte, got up and looked at him with eyes full of love and relief. She gently brushed aside the strands of golden hair hanging on his forehead with her slender fingers.
Jero Bonaparte stood obediently in front of Princess Mathilde, gazing at her. For this woman who played the dual role of sister and mother in the family, he felt nothing but gratitude in his heart.
Ti seed to freeze at that mont as Mathilde and Jero Bonaparte looked at each other, seeing concern in each other’s eyes.
After a while, Mathilde ca back to her senses, a faint inexplicable blush on her face. Jero Bonaparte, seeing his shy sister, couldn’t help but laugh.
For daring to make fun of her "naughty" brother, Mathilde imdiately tapped Jero Bonaparte’s head lightly with her ivory fan and said, with a hint of mock anger, "Aren’t you going yet? The ball is about to begin! If you’re late, everyone’s eyes will be on our esteed Prince Bonaparte. I’m not sure if our Prince can still laugh so freely then!"
Mathilde’s slightly sarcastic tone obviously didn’t harm Jero Bonaparte at all. He shrugged, showing an indifferent expression, "Anyway, the invitation is for you. Whether I go or not doesn’t matter much!"
"Do you think I’m attending the ball for myself?" Mathilde poked Jero Bonaparte’s chest gently with her ivory fan, showing a disappointed expression, "It’s all to promote you! Today, whether you want to or not, you’re going!"
Mathilde’s assertive declaration successfully made Jero Bonaparte raise his hands in "surrender."
"Alright! Alright! Alright! I’ll listen to you and go. Is that okay?" Jero Bonaparte could only force himself to endure the fatigue of travel and comply with Mathilde’s arrangents.
"I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t keep waiting too long!"
With that, Mathilde quickly left Jero Bonaparte’s room.
Once again, the room was left with only Jero Bonaparte.
"Alas!"
Jero Bonaparte sighed alone and then had to open his suitcase.
The cosplay outfit he wore in Marseille was neatly folded and placed in the suitcase.
The black coat and trousers were put on again, and the black knee-high military boots placed by the bedside were also worn. Standing by the mirror, Jero Bonaparte still looked as spirited as ever. He nodded in satisfaction and then left the room.
At this mont, outside the door, Mathilde was pacing back and forth in the corridor, glancing at her pocket watch from ti to ti.
There’s not much ti left until the ball begins.
"Let’s go!" Jero Bonaparte’s calm voice reached Mathilde’s ears.
"Why are you just..." Mathilde was about to scold Jero Bonaparte when she was stunned by his current appearance.
In a flash, Jero Bonaparte’s image seed to rge with that of their uncle.
"Alright, my dear Sister Mathilde, I’m ready. We can set off now!" Jero Bonaparte reminded Mathilde again.
"Hmm! Okay!" Mathilde imdiately ca back to her senses and extended her hand to Jero Bonaparte.
"Hmm?" Jero Bonaparte looked at his sister in confusion.
Faced with Jero Bonaparte’s bewildered face, Mathilde once again showed an embarrassed and angry expression. She stomped her foot and withdrew her outstretched hand, "If you don’t want to, then forget it!"
Jero Bonaparte looked at his sister with a mix of laughter and frustration, then bowed slightly and reached out to hold Princess Mathilde’s hand.
The siblings soon got into a carriage, where Jero Bonaparte asked his sister Mathilde about the host of the ball.
"Sister, who is hosting this ball?" Jero Bonaparte, gently holding Mathilde’s hand, asked her.
"Baron Achille Fuld!" Mathilde replied to Jero Bonaparte.
It’s him!
Jero Bonaparte imdiately recalled Achille Fuld, a figure who spanned the history of the Second Republic and the Second Empire.
If Eugène Roué represented the pen of the Empire, then Achille Fuld undoubtedly represented the purse of the Empire.
Achille Fuld’s life could indeed be described as that of a winner. Born to a prominent banker in Paris, he carved out a bloody path in Paris with his unparalleled courage and strategy in his youth, becoming a shareholder in the Bank of France.
In his middle age, he faced the greatest crisis of the June Revolution, which was suppressed by Cafenak. Afterward, his cousin ca to power, and he rose by aligning himself with his cousin, becoming the Minister of Finance of France.
Although there were tis of parting ways, he would always regain his cousin’s trust to hold positions as the Minister of Finance or the Minister of State.
In the entire Bonaparte Faction, he was second only to Roué.
Of course, Jero Bonaparte was more curious as to why Baron Achille Fuld would have taken an interest in the House of Bonaparte at this ti.
Logically, Baron Fuld’s bet should have been after the election was over.
"Sister, how did you et Baron Fuld?" Jero Bonaparte asked Mathilde again.
Mathilde rolled her eyes at Jero Bonaparte and said proudly, "As aristocrats, how could we possibly take the initiative to et the Israelis of France? It was Baron Fuld who extended the invitation to us."
"I see!" Jero Bonaparte nodded in response to Mathilde.
"Also!" Mathilde’s expression suddenly turned particularly serious, reminding Jero Bonaparte to prevent him from "going astray," "Brother, rember! We are not on the sa path as them. Even if we are to collaborate, it should only be based on mutual benefit. Those people who easily betrayed our uncle back then can just as easily betray us!"
"I understand!"
No one understood the dangers posed by these financial bankers more than Jero Bonaparte. The Gote bankers entrenched in the Bank of France could just as easily abandon his uncle and cousin, and they could just as easily abandon him should he fail.
Finance is a magic wand that can turn stone into gold, and it is only safe when that wand is in one’s own hands.
Currently, he did not have the power to wield the magic wand, so he would let those people temporarily manage it for him.
Sooner or later, he would take it back.
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