Free Web NovelChapter 1125: Chapter 1062: The Embassy
Led by two eunuchs, Mitney walked along the Francois Gallery of Fanglu Palace.
Unlike the minor nobles who seldom visit the court and are often awed by the splendor of Fanglu Palace.
Mitney, from his first visit here, was quite relaxed and easygoing, appreciating the stucco reliefs on either side as he walked.
These scenes mostly depict the ancient elven hero Kleheris, symbolizing royal power, using shades of gold, white, ochre, and ultramarine as the main tones.
After passing through the 60-meter long corridor and turning past the flowery arched ceiling, small groups of courtiers could be seen chatting outside the restroom doors.
Directly opposite the restroom is the office of the court overseer appointed by the Queen Mother, with its doors always open.
Upon announcement, Mitney received permission to enter. He tidied himself up in the mirror at the door before stepping into the two-room study.
Compared to the grand halls or corridors, the King’s study is a moderately sized rectangular room.
The walls are covered with intricately carved oak panels, adorned with leaf decorations, scroll patterns, and shell embellishments.
Unlike Horn’s simply styled study, Charles VIII had a penchant for collecting.
So his study niches not only contained exquisite oil paintings but also ancient bronze sculptures and scientific instruments.
The two display cabinets below the niches held rare shell corals, animal specimens, exotic curiosities, various mineral crystals, and ivory-carved clocks.
Mitney even saw a row of Holy Alliance football cards.
Charles VIII might not even know about the niche sport of football in the Holy Alliance.
But it’s certain that the cards catered to Charles VIII’s collecting tastes.
Because he commissioned artisans to print a set of gilded cards featuring prominent figures from Falan’s ministers and legion commanders, which he often played with in hand.
Basically, anyone featured on the cards immediately fast-tracked their path to promotion.
Standing at the doorway, from a distance, Mitney bowed to Charles VIII, who was seated at the desk in the center of the room.
"No need for formalities, Mr. Mitney, please sit." Charles VIII snapped his fingers, and someone brought in a silky smooth coffee.
Mitney sat down in front of the King, and Charles VIII handed over a letter in a gold-embossed envelope.
Mitney apologized for his rudeness as he opened the letter to read it. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
Soon, he put down the letter and, facing Charles VIII’s scrutinizing gaze, said, "This is Duke Omes probing your intentions."
"Why do you say that?"
"Jan Bazor’s ship capsized, leading to the drowning and death of Bishop Grandiva, and it’s been a month since."
Mitney’s fingers skimmed over the words "deep condolences for Bishop Grandiva."
"Coming to you now under the guise of mourning must be an attempt to test your stance regarding the Dawn Island League of Five Cities."
"Hahaha." Charles VIII laughed twice, "You’re right, you’ve convinced me."
"I don’t dare say that. You’re only testing me. Your sacred heart holds far more wisdom than mine."
Outside the window, a nightingale called twice, and the morning breeze wafted rose scent through the window crevice.
Charles VIII leaned back into his velvet chair, gazing appreciatively at Mitney: "What about Horn?"
"The Saint’s Grandson has always been generous in extending a helping hand to his fellow believers."
Charles VIII lifted his crystal glass, the red wine inside swirled, forming fine droplets: "Is he genuinely planning to help those citizens, or just trying to stir the waters?"
"A bit of both." Mitney laid down the letter, "A divided Leia suits the interests of the Holy Alliance more than a united one."
"Can you take responsibility for what you’ve said?"
"I can assure you, not a single step beyond the border will be taken by the Holy Alliance’s army; at most, some civilian forces will be sent to support.
The war in the Dawn Island League of Five Cities will be fought solely by themselves."
It must be said, with the establishment of embassies, many issues between countries indeed became much more convenient.
Especially for two equally powerful countries, in the past, Charles would have spent an entire night figuring out Horn’s intentions.
It’s not that an ambassador necessarily represents national intent, but at least it reduces misunderstandings and the unnecessary losses they bring.
"Very well, I understand." Charles VIII followed with a few words of praise and encouragement for Mitney, politely inviting him to a banquet before seeing him off graciously.
At this moment, the exhibition cabinet on the side suddenly slid open, and Lorenzo walked in.
"Your Highness, what do you think?"
"What do I think?" Charles VIII stretched lazily, "No matter who wants to muddy Leia’s waters, I have to lend a hand."
......
The morning light slanted across the oak table in the study, stretching Horn’s shadow long.
Jeanne sat at the edge of the table, her fingertips unconsciously picking at the carved corner of the table.
Her decision to go to Dawn Island had formally passed the Imperial Cardinal Conference. freewebnσvel.cѳm
Horn had specially called her over to chat while discussing related matters.
"The militias on Dawn Island lack organization, so when you go, first help them organize ranks, mainly handling military matters." Horn advised while writing letters to the League of Five Cities.
Amid the scratching of the pen on paper, he deliberately slowed his speech, looking up at Jeanne: "Are you listening?"
Jeanne did not respond, only gazing at the pigeons outside the window.
These pigeons emigrated to the ry Court Barracks three years ago, always circling the spire of the Holy Seat Mansion.
She suddenly spoke, her voice as light as a feather: "The next time I return to ry Court Barracks, surely I won’t see Jia Li with a bulging belly?"
"Have I gone mad?" Horn’s pen tip scraped, "Stop testing it, you won’t get married later than anyone else."
Jeanne pursed her lips, taking a long time to continue: "Then can you tell me that everything with Jia Li, Catherine, and others is false, only with me, it is real?"
Horn was silent, looking up and extending his hand to tuck some hair strands for her: "If I truly said that, it would be deceit."
Jeanne looked into Horn’s eyes: "Remember before, I always thought about saving the world, and you always thought about living your little life well.
But later, I got tired, feeling we’ve saved enough, but you were still unwilling.
I even dream of us returning to Red Mill Village, where you would grow wheat, and I would spin yarn, with Old Kosse officiating our wedding."
"We’ll do it when we retire." Horn patted Jeanne’s head soothingly, "I’ll build you a wooden cabin myself, surrounded by your favorite cornflowers."
"Do you still dream?" Jeanne didn’t respond to Horn’s promise, only asked again.
"Of course, I dream of the Holy Alliance’s army planting flags all over the land, where everyone can live well."
Her eyebrows moved, and Jeanne fell into a long silence.
"What’s wrong? Do you not wish to go to Dawn Island?"
"No, it’s not that." She lifted her head, staring blankly at Horn, "You no longer dream as Horn, sometimes I feel like you’re the Holy Alliance incarnate."
A gentle knock came from the door, Horn didn’t respond to Jeanne’s words but instead called towards the door: "Come in."
The door hinge creaked, and Raphael stood at the entrance, the hem of his black robe wet with dew, lips parched.
"What is it?" Seeing it was his subordinate, Jeanne tucked away her emotional softness and asked Raphael.
Raphael didn’t look at her, his gaze passing over her to stare straight at Horn.
Horn furrowed his brows: "What’s the matter?"
Raphael’s lips moved for a while before he squeezed out a sentence:
"Your Eminence, news from Jinhe Town, Sir Patrick passed away last night due to a recurrence of lung disease, at eighty-four years old."
