From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

Pauley's meeting with Pitt took place in the very hall where the Parliament was held.

However, unlike parliament, which is open to everyone, the meeting between Pauli and Pitt was highly confidential. Even the time of the meeting was only informed to the participants half an hour before the meeting started.

In order to prevent eavesdropping and peeping, the doors and windows of the huge auditorium were closed, making the interior space dark, with only a few candlesticks on the table as the only source of light.

There were not many participants from both sides, sitting on both sides of the long horseshoe-shaped table. While waiting for the meeting to start, no one whispered to each other, and the venue was completely silent.

Although his seat was requested by Pete, Lawrence still knew where his butt should sit.

After entering the auditorium, Lawrence separated from Peter and sat on Pauly's side without feeling embarrassed.

Paulie, on the other hand, looked expressionless as if he hadn't seen Lawrence. He just lowered his head and looked at the meeting minutes in his hand, but he didn't know if he could see clearly in such light.

Sitting in his seat, Lawrence had recovered from the surprise of Peter asking for a seat at the meeting.

"It's probably because their talks are coming to an end, and Peter really hopes that I can go back to London with him, that's why he gave me this kind of treatment."

Lawrence looked at the attendees and pondered Peter's intentions.

There were only five or six people sitting on each side of the long horseshoe-shaped table. Except for Pauly and Peter, they were all clerks and record-keepers.

"It's almost time."

The secretary sitting next to Paulie looked at his pocket watch and reminded him softly.

Paulie nodded, took the documents for this meeting from the secretary, cleared his throat, and said seriously:

"Good afternoon, Lord Peter, our main agreement has been reached, there are only a few details left to be perfected."

"Well, let me see"

Peter moved a candlestick closer to himself, put on his glasses, looked at the documents, and said:

"The next item is what the upper class will do after Corsica is annexed to England."

Peter's voice echoed in the empty auditorium, the shadows of the participants swayed in the candlelight, and a depressing and solemn atmosphere permeated the entire venue.

The faces of each participant were blurred in the shadows, but Peter’s voice was true and clear, reaching Lawrence’s ears:

Corsica is annexed to England.

The venue fell into a brief silence.

After Peter finished reading this sentence, he remained silent and glanced at Lawrence thoughtfully.

Paulie also observed Lawrence's expression from the corner of his eye.

But Lawrence just acted as if he didn't hear anything, didn't move at all, and still sat upright in his seat.

The howling night wind outside the auditorium violently slapped the closed doors and windows, and clanging noises echoed inside.

Paulie took a deep breath, looked away from Lawrence, looked at his materials, and said in a deep voice:

"So, Mr. Peter, what do you think about this issue?"

"I can hereby promise that the senior leaders of the Corsican government, including you, will still maintain their original positions. Of course, the new government needs to have British people joining it, and the proportion must reach 20%."

Peter said slowly.

"no problem."

Paulie nodded, exchanged glances with Peter, and both of them motioned to their clerks to record the treaty, and then make rigorous legal polish after the meeting.

"That's right." Paulie lowered his voice and asked with some eager eyes:

"What about the award of honors?"

Peter glanced at Paulie and said slowly:

"You will be granted the title of Count of Corsica, and if the Cabinet and His Majesty the King value Corsica enough, you may be granted the title of Duke of Corsica."

"Very good, very good, very good."

Paulie nodded, his eyes became a little glazed over, and he stopped after saying "very good" three times.

"Oh, right."

Pete interrupted Paulie's excitement and said seriously:

"I personally suggest that Governor Pauli add a name to the list of applicants for the award."

"Add a name? Who?" Paulie was stunned for a moment and asked subconsciously.

"Laurence Bonaparte."

"Lawrence? Why?!"

Paulie frowned. If he had said this to anyone else, he would have rushed forward and punched him hard.

Peter glanced at Lawrence with a smile, and still said unhurriedly:

"Don't forget, we promised to honor certain high-status Corsicans in order to avoid unrest during the unification process. To put it bluntly, it means to win over powerful people. I think Mr. Bonaparte fits this very well. condition."

Lawrence listened silently, couldn't help but sigh, and thought to himself:

"Pete is forcing a gift on me that I don't even want."

The meeting did not last long, because most of the regulations discussed were minor details, and neither Peter nor Paulie had much argument with the other party.

As for important matters such as military garrison, trade, customs duties, and immigration, the two have reached an agreement in previous talks.

Although this treaty has not been fully finalized and announced, the day when Corsica will plant the Red Cross flag seems not far away.

After the meeting, the British on Pitt's side packed up the documents and left directly.

Before leaving, Peter patted Lawrence on the shoulder and said meaningfully:

"Consider my proposal again, British citizens."

As Pitt and his entourage, as well as the clerk and recorder of the Governor's Palace, left, only Pauley, Lawrence, and Pauley's secretary remained in the empty auditorium.

"Ahem, Mr. Governor, the meeting is over."

The secretary looked at the two people sitting there with some embarrassment and reminded them.

Paulie put his arms on the table, held his forehead with both hands, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, and said softly:

"Go to my study and get the latest reports from the Southern Army."

The secretary hesitated for a moment, then obeyed Paulie's order and left the auditorium to get the report Paulie requested.

After the secretary also left, Lawrence sighed, closed his eyes and leaned back on the chair, and said casually:

"So, Governor, this is what you want to do? Put the British flag on Corsica?"

The whistling evening breeze flowed in through the gate, sending chills down Lawrence's back.

Paulie said nothing and continued to rub his temples.

Lawrence turned his head and looked at Pauly and said:

"Perhaps I should call you the Count of Corsica from now on?"

"That's enough, Lawrence."

Paulie opened his eyes, but did not look at Lawrence, and just said in a calm tone:

"In my eyes, I'm doing what I have to do."

The blood-red sunset shone into the auditorium from the gate, stretching the shadows of Lawrence and Paulie into two long and narrow black lines on the ground. The two black lines were like two dueling rapiers, about to intersect fiercely.

"And in my eyes"

Lawrence stood up, fixed his eyes on Paulie's face, and said directly:

"You are committing treason, Governor."