From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

The next day, January 20th.

Palace of Versailles, on the Grand Canal.

Snowflakes were falling, the wind was blowing, and the calmly flowing Grand Canal was covered with a thin layer of ice.

"This weather is really not suitable for fishing."

On a small pier by the river, an old man in white robes tossed the fishing rod in his hand in boredom.

He has been sitting here all morning, but whether it is due to the severe cold weather or the old man's ignorance of the matter, the fish basket next to him is still empty.

However, the old man's face did not show any disappointment. He was still reeling in, baiting, and swinging the rod happily. He would only occasionally murmur a few self-deprecating words in his mouth:

"How long can such leisurely days last?"

The Grand Canal flows calmly, just like the time in this world, quiet and quiet.

Snowflake covered his body with a pure white coat. From a distance, he looked like a motionless snow sculpture, standing leisurely and naturally in the Palace of Versailles.

I don’t know how much time passed, but when the old man was still staring at the white water, the old man’s personal attendant quickly came up to him and reported with an expressionless face:

"Monsieur Richelieu, outside."

"Shh-"

The Duke of Richelieu made a slight sign of silence and calmly interrupted the attendant.

Then, he stared closely at a carp swimming slowly toward the hook under the water, and unconsciously tightened his grip on the fishing rod in his hand.

However, the carp seemed to be very cautious. After taking a small bite of the bait around the hook, it immediately swung its tail fin and swam to the bottom of the river, disappearing immediately, leaving only a spreading ripple on the river surface.

"What a shame, that's a big guy."

The Duke of Richelieu smiled and shook his head. He retracted the fishhook without being discouraged, skillfully hung up a ball of broken earthworms, and once again threw the fish maw into the Grand Canal.

After doing all this, he turned to look at the attendant and nodded to him.

There was no respect on the face of this personal attendant. After all, he was sent by His Majesty the King to monitor the Duke of Richelieu. His tone was also routine and lukewarm:

"The Duke of Aiguillon has come to visit you, Monsignor Richelieu."

Hearing this name, Duke Richelieu's expression still showed no trace of emotion. It seemed that his nephew's visit was not as important as the fish swimming in the river. He just nodded quite calmly:

"Emmanuel Armand? Bring him here."

A moment later, the furious Duke Aiguillon rushed towards the small pier, gasping for air, still clutching a few newspapers that had just been released this morning in his hands.

"uncle!"

Seeing the back of Duke Richelieu from a distance, Duke Aiguillon immediately quickened his pace and ran towards Duke Richelieu shouting:

"Paris, something happened in Paris!"

The shouts of Duke Aiguillon instantly shattered the tranquility beside the Grand Canal, and even the migratory birds returning in the garden not far away were frightened and flew away.

Duke Richelieu sighed, not knowing whether it was because he was about to hear bad news, or because Duke Aiguillon's shout once again scared away the fish that was about to bite.

He reluctantly put the fishing rod aside, stood up with difficulty with his cane, and shook off the snow on his body.

The Duke of Aiguillon gasped, thrust the newspaper in his hand to the Duke of Richelieu, and said breathlessly:

"Uncle, over in Paris, our Jeanne, she, she...she was captured by those in the Palace of Justice."

Duke Richelieu took the newspaper and did not read it immediately. Instead, he glanced secretly and fearfully at the attendant not far away.

The Duke of Aiguillon also noticed this little move and knew that his uncle was still under house arrest and surveillance by His Majesty the King, so he reorganized his words and said through gritted teeth:

"Madame Du Barry, she was executed on the order of the High Court of Justice of the Union de Maupe, and the Palace of Justice also ruled that her aristocratic status was forged. This is simply too much!"

It wasn't until this news passed through Duke Richelieu's brain that his eyes, which had always been slightly squinted, couldn't help but widen for a moment, but then they immediately regained their composure. Only a hint of imperceptible loss could be seen in the corner of his eyes:

"Really? It seems that one of the roses in Versailles withered this winter."

Seeing Duke Richelieu's slightly sad look, Duke Aiguillon was stunned and asked repeatedly:

"Did you expect this before?"

He knew that the relationship between Duke Richelieu and Madame Du Barry was more than just political allies.

If Jean Du Barry brought Madame Du Barry into the upper class, then the Duke of Richelieu was the nobleman who brought Madame Du Barry into the Palace of Versailles. The Duke of Richelieu was even Madame Du Barry in the Palace of Versailles. 's first lover and client.

Logically speaking, Duke Richelieu should not be so calm after learning about Madame Du Barry's death.

Thinking of this, Duke Aiguillon subconsciously glanced at the personal attendant standing not far away without saying a word, and suddenly understood something.

Duke Richelieu nodded slightly, while flipping through the major newspapers' reports on yesterday's riots in Paris, he calmly said to himself:

"From the time you were driven back to Versailles by His Majesty the King, I had a hunch that they were going to be unfavorable to Jeanne, but I didn't expect that they would go to this extent. Riots, trials, forcing the palace, and executions, it's such a smooth flow. When did De Mope have such a method?"

Although there was no blame in Duke Richelieu's words, Duke Aiguillon still lowered his head in shame, clenched his fists and blamed himself:

"I'm sorry, uncle, but if I had been at the Tuileries yesterday, Madame Jeanne Dubarry would not have."

At this moment, Duke Aiguillon was extremely upset.

If he had not been driven back to Versailles by Laurence Bonaparte, if he had stayed at the Tuileries Palace yesterday, with his power as the second-largest figure in the Richelieu faction, he would never have let Madame Du Barry enter The Tuileries could also end in a tragic death.

"Damn Laurence Bonaparte!"

At this moment, Duke Aiguillon could only scold the cunning Corsican in his heart.

After quickly browsing the news in the newspaper, Duke Richelieu shook his head and asked softly:

"No, Emmanuel Armand, the mistake in this matter is that I underestimated their methods. Apart from these, is there any news from Paris?"

The Duke of Aiguillon nodded understandingly. Although the reporters from major newspapers were completely well-informed, the real information involving high-level insider information was not reflected in the newspapers at all. We still had to rely on the informants of the Duke of Aiguillon. Can.

Due to the attendant monitoring the recording next to him, Duke Aiguillon spoke in a cryptic manner:

"The rest are just hearsay. It is said that when there was a riot yesterday, His Majesty the King wanted to summon Mr. Quesnay."

"Mr. Quesnay. Ah."

Since Quesnay, Louis XV's chief physician, was mentioned, Duke Richelieu certainly understood that Duke Aiguillon was alluding to His Majesty the King's health problems.

Duke Richelieu nodded thoughtfully, understood the hint of Duke Aiguillon, and immediately asked:

"When did Mr. Quesnay accept your Majesty's summons?"

"Yesterday at midnight."

Duke Aiguillon said solemnly:

"After receiving Mr. Quesnay, His Majesty announced that a royal meeting will be held in the Tuileries Palace tomorrow. I am afraid it is related to yesterday's riot."

"The Royal Council, Your Majesty should have summoned you." Duke Richelieu smiled and said very openly.

Duke Richelieu also knew that since he was under house arrest in Versailles by Louis XV, these political affairs had nothing to do with him, and he would not retain his seat in the Royal Council.

The Duke of Aiguillon nodded solemnly. He came to visit the Duke of Richelieu. In addition to informing his uncle about the latest information about Paris, his other main purpose was to ask his uncle for instructions on how to express his position at this royal meeting.

Even though the Duke of Richelieu had lost his political power, he still held a pivotal position in the entire faction, and the Duke of Aiguillon could not disobey his uncle's will.

Duke Richelieu sighed slightly, continued to sit back by the river, picked up the fishing rod, and said casually:

"Since His Majesty has specially called you back to the Tuileries Palace, then serve Your Majesty wholeheartedly. Even though she is your good friend, don't take it too seriously."

Seeing Duke Richelieu start fiddling with the fishing line again, Duke Aiguillon scratched his head in disbelief and asked hesitantly:

"But, uncle! Madame Du Barry's death is so strange. Should we just ignore it and ignore it?"

Duke Richelieu inspected the fishing rod unmoved, shook his head, and said loudly and meaningfully:

"Armand, if you have doubts, you can investigate and collect evidence on your own and then report it to His Majesty, but I no longer want to get involved in these things."

As he spoke, Duke Richelieu turned half of his body to face Duke Aiguillon and the eavesdropping attendant. He closed his eyes and let the cold wind blow on his old cheeks:

"I am old, I am seventy-five years old. When I was a boy, I played wildly in the Palace of Versailles. When I was a youth, I stayed up all night in the cage of the Bastille. I once faced King George of England at the Battle of Göttingen. II, I also clashed with Queen Theresa in the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna; I served as a field marshal and ambassador to Austria, and I also took charge of the French Academy, but all of this has been I'm old now, Armand."

Under Duke Aiguillon's blank gaze, Duke Richelieu smiled mockingly, looked up and sighed:

"Going fishing, reading, playing chess and listening to operas in Versailles is all I want to do. If there are any shortcomings in my current life, let me think about it."

Duke Richelieu stared into the eyes of Duke Aiguillon and said slowly:

"It's just that it's not convenient to meet some old friends from abroad."

Having said that, Duke Richelieu ignored Duke Aiguillon, who was still in a daze, and waved his hand to drive away the guests:

"Okay, Armand, I also know everything about Madame Du Barry. Please pay my respects to her at her funeral later. It's time for you to go back and prepare to attend the royal meeting tomorrow."

The personal attendant stepped forward and reminded the Duke of Aiguillon in a neither humble nor condescending manner:

"Your Excellency, please come with me."

After leading the Duke of Aiguillon out of the Palace of Versailles, the personal attendant also returned to his residence and gave instructions to a clerk:

"There is nothing unusual about the conversation between Lord Richelieu and Duke Aiguillon. There is no need to record and report it."

The secretary breathed a sigh of relief, smiled and joked:

"It seems that the Duke is used to such a leisurely life, so we can save a lot of trouble."

The personal attendant recalled the sincere words of Duke Richelieu just now, and nodded in agreement:

"Indeed, Monsieur Richelieu probably wants to enjoy his last days in this beautiful homeland."

At the same time, Duke Aiguillon returned to his carriage with a frown on his face.

"Damn it, uncle, what do you mean? Does he really not care about Madame Du Barry?!"

The Duke of Aiguillon held his forehead with his hands and carefully recalled every last word that the Duke of Richelieu said.

He didn't believe that the Duke of Richelieu would really be so indifferent to the news of Madame Du Barry's death, nor did he believe that his uncle would really laugh off everything that happened in Paris yesterday.

Putting aside the personal relationship between Duke Richelieu and Madame Du Barry, the political value of Madame Du Barry alone made the Duke of Aiguillon unable to calm down about the news of her death.

"Wait a moment."

The puzzling Duke Aiguillon suddenly flashed a sentence in his mind, which was the last sentence of Duke Richelieu:

"It's not convenient to meet some old friends from abroad.? Does this mean?!"

After carefully recalling these short words, Duke Aiguillon's frown gradually relaxed, and he excitedly said to himself:

"It can't be wrong. They started to be in contact a long time ago. It must be like this!"

An attendant on the carriage couldn't help but glance at Duke Aiguillon and asked hesitantly:

"Your Excellency, are we ready to leave for the Tuileries Palace now?"

"No!"

Duke Aiguillon excitedly ordered:

"You immediately go to the British Embassy in my name and tell them that I wish to have a private dinner with Baron Bertula. The time cannot be too close to be scheduled in a week."

As the Duke of Aiguillon and the personal attendant left the Grand Canal, the Duke of Richelieu could finally continue to enjoy the tranquility and tranquility of this world to himself.

However, the difference from just now is that Duke Richelieu's expression is no longer as relaxed and natural as before.

Even his hands holding the fishing rod were no longer so strong and strong. Instead, they were trembling slightly in the wind and snow, looking frail.

After throwing a few fishing rods in frustration without any harvest, the Duke of Richelieu sighed, slowly put away the entire set of fishing gear, and laughed at himself in frustration:

"If you are so restless, I'm afraid you won't be able to catch any fish."

He stood up with difficulty, staring dizzy at the snowy scene in front of him.

The Grand Canal still flows quietly as it did three years ago, but the vegetation decoration in the gardens of the Palace of Versailles has undergone many changes. They are all flowers and plants replanted by Madame Du Barry according to her preferences.

Although there was no one around, Duke Richelieu lowered his voice and sighed:

"Jeanna, the day I took you to the Palace of Versailles for the first time seemed to be a snowstorm like this. I am at fault for your death. I could have saved you, but... I'm sorry, for the sake of the overall situation, for the sake of France, I had to make some trade-offs.”

As he spoke, Duke Richelieu looked up at the sky. His slightly squinted eyes were no longer as honest and honest as those of a rural farmer, but revealed a naked and fierce light without any concealment:

"After I take power, Jeanne, I will make all the truth known, and your grievances will be washed away. I will use the blood of those sinners to comfort your spirit in heaven."