Chapter 1181 The King's Pet

Although the Du Leli Palace is very large, it does not prevent them from taking the risk of splitting up.

There were surprisingly few servants in the palace, perhaps because they were busy watching noble young men and women playing tennis in the garden.

Pomona remembered this. She heard that Napoleon once issued a ban that did not allow common people, even princes and nobles, to play tennis. She didn't know who the young people who were chattering and laughing at the moment were playing tennis, but the onlookers saw So much interest that no one noticed three strange-looking visitors to the palace.

They came all the way to a baroque hall with a high dome on the second floor, the walls were decorated with white background gold, and a woman in a dress from the Empire period was playing the piano.

Before the Great Revolution, women would wear tights in order to win the favor of men, and dress themselves up weakly, delicately and gracefully. Be careful and you will die from suffocation. Women and men often carry smelling salts for first aid.

Between freedom, death, and beauty, men choose to die for freedom, and women choose to die for beauty, but each dies at his own pace. The style of Josephine's skirt is very simple, perhaps because the weather is relatively cold, she put a cloak over the high-waisted skirt of the empire, and there is no fireplace. On the green velvet sofa not far behind her, a handsome young man dressed like a court servant was lying on it, listening boredly, playing with an intellectual toy called Maya Ring.

This woman Pomona knew, she was Napoleon's queen, six years older than Napoleon, and Josephine, a widow with two children. She has the temperament of the nobles of the old era, as delicate as a fragile product, but not as beautiful as in the painting.

Her skin was not particularly fair and transparent, and her cheeks didn't have that rose-like redness that belonged to young girls who had exercised vigorously. If Pomona really had to describe Josephine's temperament, it would be a dream, she does not seem real, whether it is the snow-white dress, silk shoes, the piano she plays, or the magnificent palace, everything is in harmony with her. "Life" doesn't matter.

No one will look at Josephine and talk to her about the price of flour today, how much the rent has increased, and how much the boss has deducted from salary. You want to talk to her about Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, or the romantic ostentations put on by the aristocrats in Versailles in the old days.

At least for the artilleryman from Corsica, Josephine is the key to his dream. She will help Napoleon transform from a wealthy citizen into a real nobleman, and then integrate into the real noble circle.

There were other guests in the living room, both military officers from civilian origin and nobles who kept their costumes from Louis' period, and they were chatting happily with the ladies.

After the death of Josephine's first husband, she needed to socialize in order to make a living. It's not surprising that she knew "friends" who could communicate. Even if they might charge into battle tomorrow, or be seized by the revolutionaries and ruin their property, man They are still enjoying the ease of the moment.

They didn't care about Josephine playing the moonlight during the day, it was just background music to them, and their eyes still stayed on the women's chests more.

Pomona didn't see Napoleon's mother there at the moment, perhaps because she hadn't been picked up by Napoleon from her hometown, or because she insisted on being a Corsican woman and couldn't bear this kind of occasion.

In short, the quiet, somewhat youthful uproar ended with a resounding bugle blast.

"Here comes Napoleon," Severus said.

In fact, Pomona could have guessed it without him saying that the young officers all stood up and straightened their military appearance, and the nobles wearing wigs also put away their frivolous eyes. The women smiling coquettishly with their fans pulled up their collars, and quickly became dignified and elegant. Even the servant boy who was lying down and playing with toys sat up.

Only the laughter and noise of playing tennis continued below, as if these people were not afraid of the first ruler at all.

It didn't take long before Pomona heard the crisp sound of horseshoes, and after a while, she heard the noise coming from the palace.

They followed the sound and saw that the young Napoleon was walking up the stairs in the corridor.

Pomona had seen oil paintings of Napoleon, mostly in uniform, or in the emperor's clothes, but she had never seen Napoleon dressed like this.

He was wearing a green coat, a round cap on his head, and a Mamluk machete on his waist.

Some people who are good at military may say that it is a sword, but Pomona's perception of the sword is that it is straight. This kind of knife, sword or other called weapons are also found on British soldiers, usually Only worn by senior officers. What I have to say is that Napoleon's saber looks very good, but he is more like an adventurer or an Egyptian pasha than an emperor or a general. His entourage, all in dazzling uniforms, surrounded him like stars.

Thinking of the camp she saw just now and Napoleon's obviously sunburned complexion, Pomona suddenly had a premonition.

"It looks like the Brumaire coup is imminent," Gonseil said to Severus. "Napoleon must have just returned from Egypt."

"We're really like wizards of the future," said Pomona dryly, her eyes fixed on Napoleon walking towards the drawing room where Josephine was.

Josephine pulled up the hem of her skirt and politely curtsied towards Napoleon as a noble woman salutes the king. When the capable general saw Josephine just now, he immediately squeezed her hand affectionately and hugged her. He stood up, then turned to look at those officers and nobles.

Short stature was originally a defect. Louis XIV put on high heels to make up for this shortcoming, but Napoleon didn't care at all.

He didn't look like a political upstart at all, and there was a commanding tone in his eyes and words, which may be the habit he developed in the army. Whether it is older than him or taller than him, he must bow his head to him, showing a gesture of asking for others.

He did not let those people relax, but briefly talked about the deeds of his trip to Egypt, including his exploration of the ancient Suez Canal and showing the hieroglyphs he rubbed from the Rosetta Stone, and then changed the topic to the Directory In terms of crisis, he said to his small court in an emphatic tone, "I have deep doubts whether these crises can be resolved, unless a powerful person appears to preside over the situation, but where is this person?"

No one spoke. This general who advocated freedom and equality was not really that equal. He was just a chance for some civilians to be promoted. His personality is arrogant, just like his mother. When the general was giving lectures to his subordinates, Napoleon's mother came. She saw her tanned son, standing still for a moment, like a statue, and then she walked over to hug him and kiss him.

"You're getting thinner! You're killing yourself!" said Napoleon's mother.

"No, on the contrary, I really feel that I am alive." Napoleon said with a smile, like an Italian, turning around in front of his mother, "Can you say that I am dying like this?"

Then he started looking in the living room for "Where are Lucien and Pauline?"

"Lucien is in the Senate, Pauline is in motion," said Napoleon's mother.

At this time the general heard laughter in the atrium garden.

"What sport is she playing?"

"Tennis." Josephine said softly, and Napoleon immediately showed a displeasure scowling.

But he didn't say anything about it, and instead said, "Almost at the same time I entered the city, the government planned to hold a state banquet to celebrate Massena's victory. I think they urgently need a victory to cover up their incompetence. This time I will come back With only a handful of people, the army is still in Egypt, the British have ruined our navy, and they will soon be short of supplies, as long as I think of this, I am not in the mood to go to the banquet, do you want to go?"

"No!" The young officers answered in unison, but the bankers didn't speak.

"There are a lot of people over there who are keen to sing about how great this country is, but what I want to say is that it is because we created this country in the first place that we give them the opportunity to sing about how great this country is. On the way, the people of Paris lined up to welcome me. They begged me to be their leader, to take action against the cowardly and incompetent Directory, to defend the revolutionary regime and the fruits of victory. However, I did not immediately agree to them. There are too many difficulties in front of us. It needs to be overcome, but fortunately, there are many far-sighted friends in Paris who are willing to help, and they all agreed to our request and agreed to provide sufficient funds to support our actions."

"The 500,000 francs have arrived, General." A middle-aged man wearing a wig smiled humbly, "I brought it here in a carriage this morning."

"They're going to throw a celebration banquet for Masséna, mother." Napoleon said to his shocked mother. "You should also prepare a banquet to wash me off."

"Everything has been arranged." Josephine said, "It depends on whether you are willing to attend the banquet."

Napoleon's mother turned away with an angry face, and slapped Napoleon before leaving.

But she was not in a hurry to draw a line with her son, even though Napoleon was doing extremely dangerous things.

Immediately afterwards, Josephine led the ladies away, and closed the door before leaving. The boy who was like a servant wanted to stay inside, but was taken away by Josephine.

She looked calm, just like when she was playing the piano.

"How do you feel?" Severus asked Gonseil.

Conseil shook his head as if he had suffered from aphasia and could not utter a single word.

"What about you?" Severus asked Pomona.

She stretched out her arms, hooked his neck, and gave him a passionate kiss.

The warmth of her lips made her feel alive, that she was kissing a living person, and it made her so happy.

"Congratulations, Professor." She smiled foolishly at him as if she was drunk.

The double agent who had died in the war smiled at him, then held her head and continued a long kiss.

The victory kiss was too late, but better late than never.

She was addicted to it, as drunk as those who drink toasts to victory.

Although there are fabricated plots, I have also read several Napoleon biographies. Besides, this is a romance novel, so don’t be so strict (*＾3＾)