Chapter 1227 The Milkmaid (Part 1)

In addition to the camp bed, Napoleon's carry-on luggage also had a snow globe.

But there is nothing in this glass ball, only white "snow".

Pomona didn't understand why he had to carry such a glass ball with him.

"Let's go."

After buckling the suitcase, Napoleon helped Pomona leave the king's suite at St. Luke's Palace.

She doesn't really need support, but this is one of the etiquettes of the French, which makes her feel impatient and cumbersome, especially the clothes she is wearing, with a low cut and wide open collar, revealing a lot of skin.

She refused to wear tights, although that thing could narrow her waist and make her breasts more "ready to come out", making her straight and bland figure a bit feminine. Leah took a tights into the room early in the morning. Pomona almost cut it in the bedroom.

Napoleon was indifferent to this, and he also said that women decide what clothes they want to wear. If this is an "ordinary citizen" family, the first thing the husband and wife do when they get up is that the husband has to help the wife put on the tights.

Because of the tights, women may faint from suffocation at any time, and men should be careful to support women, which has become a etiquette.

If she had to choose to run freely and be beautiful, she would rather choose to run freely. The shackles on her feet reminded her that she was a prisoner, although Napoleon was not bad to her.

It was the same when he launched the Brumaire coup. He invited the wife of an official of the Directorate Government to be a hostage in his home, and Josephine accompanied her to drink afternoon tea.

He "invited" her to the Trianon Palace just as a symbolic request, and she had to go if she didn't want to, and her light dress was also in line with her status as a mistress.

The Grand Trianon Palace was originally the place where Louis XIV collected artworks, and later became the exclusive palace of Louis XIV's chief mistress, Mrs. Maintenon.

I really didn't expect her to be labeled as an "undecent woman" at her age. This is the characteristic of Veela hybrids. The speed of aging is not as fast as that of human women. There are a few human women who don't hate this kind of woman who can last for a long time" "Fresh" monster?

Along the way, Pomona met many people. They saw Napoleon coming or bowing or giving a military salute from a distance, but no man dared to keep his eyes on her.

Maybe there were sneak peeks, but there were absolutely none in the open. This reminded her of Anna Sui. She was the pharaoh's favorite concubine, and no man dared to touch her except Imerton, the high priest.

He brought his mistress to the public, but left his wife at home to learn court etiquette.

Napoleon is getting closer and closer to being a "scumbag".

But until she was "helped" into the carriage, he maintained a resolute expression, which may be to cater to the image of a national hero in the hearts of ordinary people.

There were not only two people in the car, but also two officials in black tuxedos, who were looking at Pomona curiously.

"How about the investigation?" Napoleon asked the moment the carriage door closed.

"The price of bread has gone up in all towns except Brittany, at seven sous a pound," said a man with a Greek nose and beard. "Only Brittany forbids the export of grain."

"The appearance of the bakery guild makes the bourgeois very nervous, worried that we will spread the guild to all industries." Another round-faced official said, "They still go to the entertainment places they frequent, and they don't see them and the royalists. touch."

"Do you know what they mean?" Napoleon asked like teasing a cat.

"Some people sell grain to other countries to drive up grain prices, and you are stabilizing grain prices."

Napoleon immediately stretched out his hand and pulled her ears, not as a punishment, but as a joke.

She dodged the move.

Even in the closed space of the carriage, there are still windows on the carriage, not to mention his two subordinates.

"Ahem." The bearded man pretended to cough, and then smiled at Pomona, "You must be Miss Georgiana. I am Fouché, Chief of Police. Nice to meet you."

"My humble servant is Dubois. We met at the Tuileries Palace." The round-faced man said almost flatteringly.

Pomona remembered how Napoleon had yelled at the secret police that day, and she smiled awkwardly, wondering why she had come to this "meeting".

The Baltic countries are currently short of food. Selling French food to countries such as the UK can not only solve the food crisis abroad, but also create chaos for France. It really serves multiple purposes.

Businessmen who support the free market are the most annoying to the guild. In order to resolve internal conflicts, the guild will unify the prices of all products, so that customers cannot only buy products from one company because of cheap prices or other reasons.

Napoleon implemented a dictatorship, and the bourgeoisie who supported him in the past were thrown aside by him. This is written in the history books. Dubois, the secret police, said that they had no contact with the royalists, that is, they are still vacillating But what does all this have to do with her?

"Thanks to your prophecy, we made preparations in advance." Napoleon came closer, next to Pomona, "Do you remember the rest of the prophecy?"

"What?" Pomona asked.

"Should we find other channels, or grab the food destined for England?" Dubois said straightforwardly, "Since they want to disturb our country, we will disturb them too."

Pomona seemed to have been hit with a sap, if she said the wrong thing at this moment, how many people would die?

"Shouldn't it be a law to prohibit the export of grain?" Pomona asked. "I remember it was the law promulgated by Louis XV."

"Miss Georgiana is an Englishman, how can she know French law?" Fouche asked enthusiastically.

"I told her." Napoleon's proud look made her furious.

He also deliberately grabbed her hand firmly, and she couldn't break free.

"Smart and beautiful, she is a peerless beauty. The general has a good eye." Dubois said flatteringly.

Napoleon smiled smugly, looking very pleased.

She's getting nauseous.

"How is our guest?" asked Napoleon, smiling.

"At first he was very reluctant to go out, but later he left with us." Fouche said modestly.

The police go for a treat? Is this an arrest or a threat?

"Who are you talking about?" Pomona asked.

"Your guardian, Mr. Edward Jenner, I heard that he will use the method of vaccination to prevent smallpox. I want to promote it in France. You must help me win over him." Napoleon said to her very gently, "He is a rare person." talent."

Edward Chennai, the father of immunology in the Muggle world, King Louis XV of France also died of smallpox.

However, his research results were not immediately accepted in the UK. How did a British scholar come to France?

"He came to see a friend." Napoleon seemed to be able to read her expression. "In fact, he doesn't need to ask friends to help promote it like in other countries. He can write directly to ask for a meeting."

"He didn't write to you, but you still 'invited' him here." Pomona pursed her lips tightly.

"Of course I pay attention to talents. I hope that talents from all over the world can come to France, no matter what nationality they are." He stared into Pomona's eyes, as if to see if she had eye dropsy. "Of course, except Talent, but also beauty."

"You don't get what you want," Pomona said. "There's always something you can't have."

He cupped her head and kissed her.

Hathor had said that Napoleon would have intimate behavior in the carriage, but given the scene at the time, she had completely forgotten about it.

How many women are not intoxicated by the solemn and solemn ceremony of being welcomed by people?

Before he could poke his tongue in, Pomona pushed him away.

The Corsican rogue collapsed on his seat and laughed heartily.

The other two living people in the carriage chose to look at the scenery outside the window, as if they didn't exist at all, and they couldn't be expected to be heroes to save the beauty.

Fortunately, the two of them are still policemen!

The solemn hero just now turned into a hooligan, hugged and hugged Georgiana, and she slapped him in a rage.

Now let him calm down a little bit, rearrange his expression, and when he sits upright again, he can rationally talk to Fouche about things that they only understand.

Pomona looked out the car window, hoping to spot someone from the crowd.

But St. Luke's Palace is in the outskirts. Except for government officials, there are no ordinary citizens, let alone the dark wizard.

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Severus was smoking while the streets of Paris in the early 19th century were filled with feces, making it impossible to get down.

He carefully avoided the horse manure left by the previous carriage, and looked more gloomy than usual, as if the sun could not warm him up.

When he was across the road, he looked up at a building that housed a British chamber of commerce.

If you have information to sell, remember not to take it to the direction of the embassy, ​​there are many people staring at it, compared to the Chamber of Commerce, which is much more deceptive.

Similarly, British intelligence agencies will also hide themselves as chambers of commerce. The premise is to distinguish which chambers of commerce are real chambers of commerce and which chambers of commerce are disguised as chambers of commerce.

Severus, the crest of the Malfoy family, would not be mistaken. I really didn't expect that this chamber of commerce existed in Napoleon's dream.

"Sissy is leaving me." The still handsome platinum nobleman was half drunk, talking about the troubles he encountered recently, "Draco doesn't know yet, should I tell him?"

The double agent never imagined that he would one day be the victim of an extramarital affair.

And the other party was a Muggle who had been dead for hundreds of years.

Suppressing his nausea, he spat and went to the leather goods store next door to buy a pair of boots. The leather shoes will soon overflow his feet when he steps on this kind of street full of feces. The streets of Paris in the 21st century are full of garbage. Compared with this place, it looks like heaven.

Polka followed him tremblingly all the way, but fortunately it was invisible and did not cause too much commotion on the street.

Even if someone finds it, they probably won't care. I have seen a lot of big scenes in Paris, and who would make a fuss over a little monster.