Harry Potter Morning Light

Venice has many private islands scattered in the Adriatic Sea like broken diamonds, and Severus and Felix appeared on one of them together.

The person who was painting in the house noticed the movement, he glanced out from the transparent glass window, and then stood up.

Not long after, Gianluca came out of the house, looking as if he would dress up a little more, a lot more elegant, not as hip-hop as he used to be.

"Do you remember who I am?" Severus said to the Muggle.

"Mr. Smith," said Gianluca arrogantly, "what's your business?"

"Are you a descendant of the Venetian Dandolo?" Severus said.

"No," said Gianluca, "but I know the Dandolos."

"Who is Dandolo?" Felix asked.

"You'll find out soon enough." Severus rubbed Felix's head, and the stubborn young man pushed his hand away angrily.

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"A wedding for me and Georgiana or a funeral for Kleber, take your choice," Napoleon Bonaparte said imperiously to Bishop Caprara.

"Hahaha, this old man is not like Pastor Bart, who owes a huge debt." Archbishop Caprara said with a smile.

At this time they were walking in Notre Dame, where workers were repairing the damage caused during the Revolution.

"Then are you coming on the day of your groundbreaking ceremony?" Bonaparte asked again.

"I think I can say yes," Caprara said. "You named the canal after St. Martin, and I have to fulfill the duties of Georgiana's guardian."

"You can bring a few more bishops." Bonaparte said, "The place is very spacious, so don't worry that the room is too small to stand up."

"The old man was entrusted by the Holy Father to sign the peace treaty. The gangsters who hijacked me last time also confused the two things." Caprara said, "According to the terms of the special educational agreement, the right to appoint and remove bishops is in your country. the government, and I hear that your uncle is now Archbishop of Paris."

Napoleon smiled.

She has a stomachache.

Today they came out of microservices, and they didn't have many entourages. Listening to the two of them talking now, she felt a lot of pressure.

"We shouldn't have neglected the lady," Caprara said to Georgiana. "Let's talk about something that interests you."

Napoleon looked at her too, like a young man in a salon waiting for his hostess to announce the topic of discussion.

"I was wondering if I could have a statue of the Madonna in Notre Dame," she said, "similar to the Madonna, that would be a masterpiece."

"Have you ever been to Rome?" Caprara asked.

"I dreamed of Maria..."

"I hope that the appearance of the entourage and officials of the French embassy in Rome will be extremely pompous," Napoleon interrupted Georgiana.

Caprara smiled and nodded. "I think the Holy Father will hear."

A brash warlord.

Georgiana cursed inwardly, he was so unpleasant.

In fact, there is a question she really wants to ask, whether Napoleon will restore the court confessor, she thinks this position will serve as a bridge between the king and other priests.

The king of the old system was the father of the people. He had the responsibility to solve the livelihood problems of his subjects. Like a father, he first let the children have bread to eat, which was the key to maintaining social order.

What the first ruler is doing now is almost the same as that of a king. It is obviously not enough to talk about the enthronement ceremony.

Then she suddenly realized that the topic of her dream just now was very inappropriate. No wonder His Excellency Bonaparte interrupted her, but she is such a person who is not good at diplomatic vocabulary. Perhaps Josephine is more suitable for this occasion than her.

She hates the polygamous system, she hates it very much. She used to look down on those women who lived in polygamy, thinking that they were attached to a man for material and life.

So what is she now?

"Is there a convent near here?" she asked defiantly.

Caprara looked at her in surprise.

"The church we visited last time was run by nuns." Napoleon said aside.

"I've seen nuns working in hospitals before, and we opened a medical school near Versailles, how about sending nuns there?"

"Why do you think so suddenly?" Caprara asked interestingly.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

That day by the canal she had flaunted herself to this warlord wearing a nun's dress, and he had no respect for that dress at all.

"Just let them come!" she said fiercely.

Caprara froze.

"The epidemic season is here, and we need nurses." Napoleon said with a smile.

"This year's harvest is said to be quite bad," Caprara said.

"We are ready," Napoleon said with a deep smile, "thanks to the prophets."

The 1 million share of food will not all arrive in Paris at once, but the beam trucks should have started their return journey from all over the world.

As long as there are food trucks, there will be people who are hungry and dizzy to rob food. After all, the countryside doesn't have that much organizational power.

In this way, Paris, protected by city walls and troops, is the safest.

"I am very worried about the safety of the nuns." Georgiana said, "In the eyes of some gangsters, they are just women, not nuns."

"I will notify the parishes." Caprara said earnestly, "Thank you for reminding me, kind lady."

"My place is big enough for them to live in. What about sending some soldiers to protect their safety?" she said to Monsieur Bonaparte.

"No problem." The warlord agreed.

"Where are the monks?" Caprara asked with a smile.

"I think they can manage themselves," said Napoleon grimly.

The atmosphere turned bad again.

"Why not restore the permanent tenancy, Monsieur Bonaparte, so that the landlord can monitor the actions of the farmers." Caprara said boldly.

Perpetual tenancy is one of the most disgusting systems in the old system. Now the land is owned by farmers after reclaiming wasteland, but as Leon Cour discovered after inspection, it is inefficient and the soil fertility is not restored well. However, if farmers were to give up their land and become tenants again, it was not just a matter of property rights.

Napoleon was deep in thought, and he did not immediately deny Caprara's proposal.

This is an effective and feasible method, just like using officials with bad records, "useful" comes first.

"You just came up with the idea so suddenly? Father." Georgiana looked at Caprara, the old pastor who looked very kind and thin.

"How did you suddenly think of nuns? Daughter." Caprara asked with a smile.

"He locked me up in a country convent for a while," said Georgiana, pointing to Bonaparte.

The first ruling was still thinking about things, so that he didn't react.

"Hahaha, did you fight?" Caprara said with a laugh.

"My ex-husband came to see me at the time, and they had a fight." She said deliberately, "Do you think he had any reason to lock me up?"

"Are you divorced?" Caprara asked.

She didn't answer right away.

"I want to confess, let's go to the confessional, father," she said to Caprara, and walked to the confessional, which had just been delivered and smelled of new paint.

Caprara took one look at Bonaparte, and followed her, leaving him standing with the rest of the monks, and, drawing back the black curtain, sat down on the other side of the confessional.

He pulled apart the wooden boards between the confessional, and through the carved lattice, he saw the woman on the other side.

She did not cross herself.

"What are you trying to say, kid?" Caprara asked.

"Father, he's not just going to kill me, he's going to send everyone to hell," Georgiana said.

"who is he?"

"My husband, he thought I hadn't betrayed him."

"I'm confused, ma'am, are you talking about your ex-husband or His Excellency Bonaparte?"

"You said just now that he was a man with nothing."

"I heard about the horrors that happened a while ago, and most people don't have the guts of him," Caprara said.

"It's worse than you think. I'm afraid he's going to ruin the city."

"I think Monsieur Bonaparte can take care of that."

"No, you don't understand," Georgiana cried. "I like them both. What a wretch I am."

Caprara sighed, "I think it's Mr. Bonaparte who made a mistake in the first place."

"If I were a really chaste woman, I shouldn't let him approach me, but I'm afraid of rejecting him, he will hate me, if he hates someone, he will hate me for the rest of his life, as long as I think about it, I feel sad as hell, so I He was not resolutely rejected."

"You didn't seduce him?" Caprara asked.

"There was no deliberate seduction."

"What is no deliberate seduction?"

"What does that soon-to-be-built canal remind you of?"

Caprara thought for a moment, but said nothing.

"For ordinary people, it is a river, which is used for drinking water and transportation in Paris, but for us it is part of Rome's water supply system." Georgiana cried, "He didn't say it, I felt it, I felt it. Tell him what I think, do you think this is a temptation?"

"Is there anything else?" Caprara asked.

"He wants to retire and go to Italy with me. We all like Venice." She said in a crying voice, "But he offended so many people. We only encountered assassination a while ago."

"Why do you want to see The Crown of Thorns?" Caprara asked.

"I want to see it, I want to see what the sacred object looks like?"

Caprara almost laughed out loud, but still hid in the darkness and asked, "How is his relationship with the first lady?"

"What kind of relationship can they have? It's over a long time ago, but he won't divorce her. He's not the kind of man who abandons people who were good to him when he grows up."

"You really think so?"

"What good can he do by lying to me?"

"Your good opinion, you will let him approach you because you have good feelings for him, right?" Caprara said.

Georgiana said nothing.

"We in the western world do not respect polygamy. Your Excellency Bonaparte went to Egypt once, and he may have learned some bad things there. You should advise him to go on the right path and not continue to be attracted by the devil to go astray."

"How should I persuade him?"

"Let's talk about it next time we meet. Your Excellency Bonaparte must be getting impatient." Caprara said, "Nice to meet you, Georgiana."

The girl on the other side of the confessional cried for a while, then took a deep breath and stood up.

"Thank you, Father, I feel better."

She finished speaking and left the confessional.

After she opened the curtain and went out, Caprara said "Roma" in a low voice, opened the curtain and followed.

He saw that the short God of War was supporting the woman who was crying in the confession room just now. Without the domineering arrogance of the French king, he was no different from an ordinary man.

The short woman didn't know what she said to Napoleon. Napoleon looked at him with surprised eyes, and Caprara frowned seriously.

"You want to restore the court confessor?" asked Napoleon.

Caprara looked at the little woman.

Now she hid her face in Napoleon's arms so that no one could see her.

"Why not start by adding a chapel to the Palace?" said Caprara, smiling. "I believe you are not like the Directorate."

"Except for Louis XVI, I don't want to be compared with the people of the Directory." Napoleon announced proudly, "I will arrange a chapel for you in the Tuileries Palace, and I hope there will be a priest to preside over it on the new day. mass."

Caprara bowed to Napoleon.

Napoleon stared at him for a moment, then left with Georgiana in his arms.

Other monks not far away came over and surrounded Caprara.

They had so many urgent questions to ask, but Caprara didn't listen to a single word.

He kept watching their backs until they disappeared in the corridor of Notre Dame.

Then he looked at the others.

At this time, his expression was extremely majestic, and he didn't look as kind as before.