monarch

"And one last thing, Your Majesty, the Theseus and the Leto will sail from Portsmouth tomorrow morning, where the Spanish ambassador and his entourage are already waiting to board. I will be able to arrive in Cadiz in a month, and it will take about half a month to come back from there."

Cecil finished his report, bowed to King Edward, and closed the folder in his hand.

King Edward leaned lazily on the throne, squinting his eyes slightly because of the harsh summer sun. This was the last day of the Royal Ascot held at Windsor Castle. As the organizer of the event, the King was about to present trophies to the final winners .

"Excellent." The king nodded at Cecil. His voice was not too loud. After all, everyone on the viewing platform stretched their ears, trying to hear a few words of the conversation between the two.

The news from Spain dropped a bombshell at Hampton Court Palace, where the singing and dancing were flourishing.If there were any illusions about maintaining peace with Spain before, the news of the mutual closure of embassies between the two countries has clearly proved to them that the relationship between the two countries has crossed the critical point of war and peace.The Atlantic Ocean is vast and boundless, but it can only have one master after all. Spain and Britain, the two most powerful ocean nations, will compete for the favor of Poseidon, the god of the sea.

But for most at court, the war with Spain was just a cloud just gathering on the horizon.Although it foretells the arrival of a storm, it is after all a matter of the future, and most people can only see this Friday afternoon.They were more concerned with the return of the ambassador to Spain, Robert Dudley, as a side effect of the breakdown in relations between the two countries.

King Edward should have been offended or outraged when the news came that Spain had expelled the British ambassador, but instead he acted ecstatically, as if he had been looking forward to the news for a long time.His Majesty even planned to give the Spanish ambassador only two days to pack his luggage, so that the two warships headed to Cadiz could set sail as soon as possible.The troubled Cecil persuaded the king for an hour before he managed to persuade His Majesty to dispel this impolite thought.

Regarding Robert's return to the country, most cabinet members have doubts, and the most important reason is naturally that they are worried that their seats will be replaced by others.Contrary to most people's estimates, the relationship between the King and Robert Dudley has not been cold because of this period of separation, and all signs indicate that His Majesty's favor with this favorite is as good as ever.It seemed that his earlier dispatch to Spain was more of a protection than a banishment after the rebellion to keep him out of the center of the storm.

Robert Dudley has been named the Marquess of Pembroke, one of the most prominent nobles in the country, plus His Majesty's respect for him and his outstanding performance in Spain in the past two years, there is no doubt that the king will be in his honor. After returning to Britain, he was given great powers, and at least one cabinet seat was inevitable.In this game of grabbing chairs, when a newcomer comes in, someone must go out in the next round. If Robert Dudley returns to London, then the king is bound to reshuffle the cabinet.

Different people in the cabinet reacted differently to what was now a certainty.Bishop Gardiner, as a rubber stamp, seems to have embraced the Epicurean philosophy over the years, letting go of everything and signing his name on every document put in front of him with indifference .Contrary to other prime ministers in history, these years of prime ministerial career not only did not damage his health, but made his face look more rosy, and his weight also increased by nearly twenty pounds.Whether the king wants to reshuffle the cabinet or kick a few people out, Bishop Gardner, who has already started enjoying his retirement in advance, doesn't care at all.

Cecil is also not very worried. As the deputy prime minister and the actual head of the cabinet, his position is irreplaceable, and administrative affairs have never been Robert's area of ​​expertise.The same applies to Sir Walsingham, Home Secretary, and I am afraid the King has no intention of letting his favorite get his hands dirty in this position, and the Home Secretary has nothing to worry about.

In the entire cabinet, the two most worried people are naturally the Minister of Army and Navy. Due to the sensitivity of these two positions, His Majesty pays more attention not to talent, but loyalty and replaceability when considering candidates. Therefore, the two The two ministers are not so much the head of a department, but two hard-working clerks. They themselves know very well that Robert is more qualified for these two positions than them.

What the two ministers didn't know was that Edward didn't intend to take off their hats. For two loyal servants, there was no need to humiliate them with such a cruel method of dismissal.Regarding Robert's whereabouts, His Majesty has already made arrangements: the king will set up a "war steering committee". During the war, this committee will "coordinate the relationship between the army, navy and various departments of the country, and make important decisions". In other words, this will be the highest command body of the British Kingdom, and the chairmanship of this committee is naturally reserved for Robert.Those two conscientious ministers will do the subordinate work they are good at under Robert's hands, and their titles and positions will not be damaged in the slightest, and they will not lose face at all.

The two ministers were sitting not far from the king now, their ears stretched out the longest, and their desire to hear the king's voice was the most urgent.King Edward did not tell the two of his plans. After all, making his ministers always feel that they are standing on the edge of the cliff is the only way for the monarchs to sit back and relax.

"I heard that your horse is the favorite to win the championship?" The king turned his back to the ministers, naturally changed the subject, and said to Cecil.

"Yes, Your Majesty, the number seven horse 'Hector' is mine." Cecil's voice could not conceal his pride, and he stretched out his finger to the other side of the grass, where the horses and riders were doing their best. The final preparations before departure, "The bay red Arabian horse, Your Majesty, and the rider in the blue coat, that is my horse."

The king raised the telescope in his hand and looked at it carefully.

"The rider is still a child," he remarked.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Cecil bowed, "I think Your Majesty still remembers that child, Pierre Baptiste."

Edward searched in his mind for a moment, "Ah, yes, I remembered, it was the French kid, the son of the groom at the hotel where you stayed two years ago, I remember his parents were killed in that attack .”

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Cecil, "that boy had nowhere to go, so I took him in at my house, as if he had inherited his father's talents, and had a talent for horses, Heck. Thor was trained by him."

"If I remember correctly, this kid is only 11 years old this year?"

"Twelve next month, Your Majesty, but already a fine rider."

The king laughed, "It seems that you have great confidence in him. How much did you bet on the seventh horse?"

"Five hundred pounds, Your Majesty, a small gamble, at three-to-one odds, I have every confidence that it will turn into fifteen hundred pounds."

"Okay then." The king waved his hand, and a personal servant who had been paying attention to His Majesty hurried forward, "Please help me to place a bet of £[-] on horse No. [-]."

The attendant hurriedly trotted all the way to place a bet. After a while, he returned to His Majesty's box with a race ticket and handed the race ticket to the king.

"This is your bet, Your Majesty, and the French ambassador is already waiting to be summoned outside the viewing platform."

"Why is he here at this time?" The king sounded a little unhappy.

"Come to explain the peace treaty between them and Spain." Cecil reminded, "He made an appointment before, does your Majesty still remember?"

"What a nuisance," the king grumbled. "Then let him in."

Five minutes later, the French ambassador walked into the box. He was wearing an embroidered gown, with a flat face trimmed without a trace of stubble under a silver wig.

The French ambassador bowed his head towards the king, his perfumed wig was facing Edward's nose, and it was with great difficulty that he suppressed the urge to sneeze.

"Welcome, Mr. Ambassador." The king politely pointed to the chair beside him, motioning for the ambassador to sit down, but the indifference revealed in this superficial politeness was like the cold wind leaking in through the window gap in winter. Unable to hide it, "We are at the horse race meeting. I don't know why you are so eager to see me. At this time, we should all watch the horse race."

"I'm sorry to disturb Your Majesty, but I have asked His Majesty many times." The ambassador smiled awkwardly. "My king has repeatedly urged me to explain to you the treaty just signed between my country and Spain."

"What is there to explain?" Edward said, "This is entirely a matter between your country and Spain. If King Henry II wants to fight, then he will continue to fight. If he hates war, then he will make peace with Spain. It's entirely up to him, so what does it have to do with me?"

"The King of our country is worried that His Majesty will have a misunderstanding." The French ambassador said hesitantly.

"I don't see any of these things that can be misunderstood." Edward was obviously a little impatient. He looked towards the end of the track. The participating horses were already in their positions, and the race was about to start at any moment.

"His Majesty the King of our country asked me to tell His Majesty that signing a peace treaty with Spain does not mean a shift in our foreign policy. The contradictions between Spain and our country are difficult to reconcile. We do not intend to take refuge with King Philip."

"But you don't plan to stand with me, do you? Even though we have reached a lot of consensus before. Now that your country has signed a peace treaty with Spain, Philip has set his sights on Britain. Now it's your country's turn to treat It's a price." Edward curled his lips mockingly, "Look, all of this is very clear, and there is nothing misleading about it."

"The king of our country wants me to assure you that once the situation permits, he is willing to fight against the hegemony of Spain with you." The ambassador lowered his head even lower, "You can understand that our country is in trouble now. It’s hard to reignite the flames of war.”

Edward made no reply, for the King of France meant very well that he would not intervene in the Anglo-Spanish war until Britain and Spain were divided; A piece of flesh was torn off his body.

"Of course, if the king of our country gets some help from you, the recovery process of our country may become faster." The voice of the French ambassador became a little cramped, as if his throat suddenly narrowed for some reason It's like half.

"What does King Henry want from me?" Edward gave the French ambassador a meaningful look.

The French ambassador looked down at the two hands folded on his waist, looking a little embarrassed, "Spain once made a proposal to our country during the negotiations... If our country is willing to go to war with Britain, Spain will support our country in capturing the Calais fortress. His voice became lower and lower, "If your country is willing to hand over this fort to our country ... then there will be no basis for misunderstanding between Britain and France."

Edward stared at the face of the French ambassador, causing the ambassador's scalp under the wig to sweat a lot. He let out a short but crisp sneer, "Exchanging an illusory promise for a fortress...it's a bit too much. Is it too much?"

"If His Majesty thinks so...then we'd better...wait." The French ambassador's face was flushed, and he looked like he was going to be out of breath from the heat, or strangled by the collar of his own dress.

"I'm not in a hurry, sir." Edward yawned, "Look, the horse race is about to start, we should watch the horse race first."

As soon as the king finished speaking, the sound of the starting gun came from the other side of the field.

The ten horses rushed out from the starting point like arrows leaving the string, and the sound of their hooves sounded like thunder on the viewing platform.The circular track was a mile long, and the finish line of the race was directly below His Majesty's viewing stand.

Horse No. [-] didn't have a great start, he was in fourth or fifth place, but as time went on, the horses in front of him began to be gradually thrown away by the silver French horse in the lead However, the No. [-] horse is still running at its own pace, keeping a certain distance from the leader, and its ranking has also risen steadily.

On the back of horse No. 12, the young jockey Pierre Baptiste showed no less riding skills than adults. On several occasions, he appeared a little thinner than adults It seemed that his body was about to be thrown off the horse, and in fact, to make the game fair, the referee stuffed twenty pounds of lead in Pierre's pocket.These thrilling scenes caused the noble ladies in the box to exclaim one after another, but what is surprising is that the [-]-year-old rider managed to save himself from danger every time. When the ladies who covered their eyes and dared not look opened their eyes , Pierre still sat firmly on the saddle.

When the riders rushed to the straight road leading to the finish line, the No. 2 horse had become the undisputed No. 1, only one body away from the No. [-] No. [-] horse.Seeing such a fierce competition, many people on the viewing platform stood up nervously from their seats. The men bit their lips tightly, and the women tore the silk veils in their hands. Even His Majesty King Edward, who was sitting on the throne, sat up straight involuntarily.

Finally, within fifty yards of the finish line, the two horses were neck and neck.The rider of horse No. [-] lashed his mount with a whip, but it had exhausted all its strength in the previous sprint, and there was a hoarse breathing sound from under the bridle, and the sound of the horse's hooves kicking the ground sounded like Less forceful.Contrary to the No. [-] horse, the No. [-] horse still maintains the previous rhythm, which is no different from when it just started from the starting point.The helpless No. [-] rider could only watch as the No. [-] horse slowly but unstoppably left him behind.

Amidst the thunderous cheers, the No. [-] horse crossed the line first, leaving the No. [-] horse behind it by two body lengths.

"The winner is Baron Burleigh's racehorse 'Hector'!" the host shouted hoarsely.

"Excellent." The king clapped his hands and congratulated Cecil.

Horse Seven came to a standstill, and immediately the horses and riders were surrounded by an excited crowd, everyone eager to shake the hand of the brave young rider and touch Horse Seven's mane, which was covered in dust and sweat.

The golden trophy was handed over to the smiling King Edward, and His Majesty, holding the gold trophy in his hand, walked up to the rider who was embracing Cecil.

"Congratulations, sir." The king looked at the winning Pierre Baptiste. The childish face of this child still did not take off the childishness of a boy. Anyone who saw this baby face would probably be unable to recognize this childish face. The face is associated with the winner of Royal Ascot.

Pierre knelt on one knee and took the trophy from the king, "Thank you Your Majesty." His voice also sounded childish.

The king turned to Cecil again. "You have done a noble thing. You have allowed this boy to develop his talents to the fullest. I congratulate you, sir."

Cecil bowed excitedly to the king, "Congratulations to you too, Your Majesty, you have won three thousand pounds."

A gracious host came forward with a tray full of gold coins in his hand.

"This is a lottery won by His Majesty."

King Edward picked up some gold coins, played with them a few times, and put them back on the plate.

"Please donate this money to the poorhouse in London instead of me," ordered the king.

The crowd enthusiastically cheered "Long live His Majesty the King" for the king's benevolence, many of them sincerely.

The king nodded, thanking everyone for their enthusiasm, and then walked towards the carriage waiting at the exit.