Gazing out the study window at the swiftly departing Count Falu, Jero Bonaparte knew that his deal with the Catholic Right had been a success.
In all of Paris, none offered the Church Faction more generous terms than Jero Bonaparte, or perhaps those who could rival him (such as Cafenak) simply refused to negotiate with them. Even those without the capability to reach the electoral finals (like Thiers, Molay, etc.) offered terms that were re illusions.
Moreover, Count Falu himself was a staunch mber of the Monarchist Faction and the Catholic Right. Expecting him to compromise with an Extre Republican was pure fantasy.
Confident that Count Falu would accept his proposed terms, Jero Bonaparte smiled with self-assurance.
Even though he had just returned to Paris two days ago, he had already received support from forces beyond his small agricultural base. Part of this support ca from the Moderate Republicans led by Victor Hugo, whose base consisted of the small bourgeoisie of Paris keen on protecting their private property. Another part was from the Catholic Right led by Count Falu, with factions from Brittany and the Provençal District.
The electoral situation could not be described as stagnant; it was only adding victory upon victory.
In these favorable circumstances, Jero Bonaparte felt sowhat euphoric.
After all, he was about to beco the youngest President of France at 26, with no previous Republic having a ruler under 30.
Jero Bonaparte briefly indulged in self-admiration as he gently swayed with closed eyes.
However, his reverie was soon interrupted by Eugène Rue’s call.
"Your Highness..." Eugène Rue burst into Jero Bonaparte’s study, swallowing nervously and saying intermittently, "Cafenak, Cafenak..."
"What’s with Cafenak?" Jero Bonaparte snapped out of his daze and, with a serious expression, inquired.
"Cafenak is right downstairs! He said he wants to see you!" Eugène Rue blurted out in one breath.
"Hmm?" A glimr of surprise flashed in Jero Bonaparte’s eyes. He couldn’t understand why this dictator wasn’t enjoying his last days of authority at the Elysee Palace but had co here instead. Surely he wasn’t trying to persuade him not to run for the election!
"Tsk tsk tsk! A harbinger of trouble!" Jero Bonaparte shook his head, standing with hands behind his back, and sighed.
"Should we see him?" Eugène Rue asked Jero Bonaparte, as decisions of this nature could only be made by the leader himself; anyone else making them would only spell disaster.
"Do we have any choice at the mont?" Jero Bonaparte shrugged and responded calmly, "Let’s invite our Mr. Governor in! Let’s not keep him waiting!"
"Yes!" Eugène Rue responded, then turned and left Jero Bonaparte’s study.
To accommodate Cafenak’s arrival, Jero Bonaparte called Fleury to prepare a pot of fine tea to entertain Cafenak.
Upon receiving the order, Fleury t Eugène Ruby leading Cafenak to the second floor just outside the room.
Cafenak, dressed in a black military tunic, red tapered trousers, and a yellow silk sash around his waist, was surprised to see Fleury and remarked, "Fleury, who would have thought you’d end up here?"
"You know each other?" Jero Bonaparte’s gaze first fixated on Fleury’s back, then shifted to Cafenak.
"Yes!" Cafenak nodded, responding sternly and coldly, "I once fought alongside Major Fleury in Algeria!"
Major? As expected, my cousin had casually conferred titles upon his confidants.
Jero Bonaparte silently grumbled to himself.
While he understood his late cousin’s tendency to issue empty titles, he was dissatisfied about having to honor so of them.
He himself wasn’t even sure how many empty titles his cousin had given out.
"Your Highness, I..." Fleury wanted to explain sothing, but Jero Bonaparte waved it off, saying, "Go attend to your tasks!"
Fleury went to prepare the tea leaves, while Eugène Rue led Cafenak to Jero Bonaparte.
Jero Bonaparte and Cafenak sat facing each other on the sofa in silence, maintaining eye contact for so ti until Jero finally couldn’t hold back and said, "Mr. Governor, I wonder what guidance you bring by visiting my humble abode!"
"Honestly, Prince Jero Bonaparte, I don’t like you at all! I should have thrown you in jail back then!" Cafenak said with a faint hostility in his cold tone.
The open hostility from Cafenak did not provoke a matching response from Jero Bonaparte, who smiled and said, "Governor Cafenak, as a political figure, we cannot prioritize personal dislikes and likes above the Republic! Whether you like or not, as long as I haven’t violated the Republic’s constitution, you have no power to arrest !"
"Hmph!" Cafenak’s attitude remained one of disdain, clearly unsatisfied with Jero Bonaparte’s formal and almost official response.
Seeing this, Jero Bonaparte put away his smile, his expression turning similarly cold, a look that pushed others away as he said, "Governor, if you ca here rely to vent your dissatisfaction, I suggest you do so in private! Curse or pray to God in your own ti; it’s your right!"
Jero Bonaparte’s sarcastic tone made Cafenak uncomfortable. He adjusted his deanor and said, "I hope you can join my cabinet; the Republic needs soone like you!"
Jero Bonaparte displayed a look of surprise. He had never expected Cafenak, with whom he had clashed for so long, to invite him one day.
This was a position his "previous life" cousin had never received.
"That depends on what position Governor Cafenak can offer !" Jero Bonaparte replied in a cavalier tone.
Cafenak pondered for a mont before responding, "How about Minister of Public Works? I think that position suits you!"
To have control over national public works expenditures ant having the key to the country’s treasury, indicating that Cafenak’s offer was considerable.
"What do you need to do?"
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