Harry Potter Morning Light

Chapter 2321 Petermnnchen (3)

Suddenly there was a sound of "crashing" horseshoes outside.

She and Farron went to the window to check, and found that the guards were coming, and then saw Bonaparte, wearing the first ruling court uniform, walking into the courtyard, with a Mamluk hanging around his waist. sword.

For a moment, Georgiana wanted Faron to hide, but she thought about it, what would an old man in his eighties have to hide, and then she found that there was another person behind Bonaparte. I met him at the meeting, it seems to be the general who followed him to Italy.

There was not much time for them to be dazed, and soon she heard their footsteps.

Madame d'Estare had written in her novel "how delightful it would be to hear his footsteps," and Georgiana was not in the same mood now.

What she was thinking about was Zorro, to be precise, a fight scene in the stables between him and the governor's daughter Elena in "The Mask of Zorro". In fact, the governor's daughter is not really his daughter, but the daughter of the previous generation of Zorro. The previous generation of Zorro was old, and he trained a talented young farmer Alisandro to become a new generation of Zorro. , And rescued a large number of miners and their daughter Elena from the Spanish governor. But Elena didn't know her true identity at that time, she thought the governor was her father, and she wanted to organize Zorro to steal documents from her father's office.

While her thoughts were rambling, Bonaparte appeared. She seldom saw him in a court dress, although this one was similar to the one he wore, with a black base and borders embroidered with gold thread. This court dress had a red stand-up collar and trousers dark gold, exactly like the portrait David had painted of him riding across the Alps.

At this time, she felt that someone tugged at her sleeve. It turned out to be Faron, who was saluting to Bonaparte. Elena pointed at him like that with her thin thorn sword.

"What are you doing here?" She said dryly and coldly.

He ignored her unfriendly attitude, but smiled at her flatteringly.

"I'm hungry, is there anything else to eat?"

There is still some food in the kitchen. After all, Farron and Edgeworth are not young, so they don’t eat much, but how could she have the nerve to use the leftovers to entertain the First Consul?

She didn't speak, and he stood like this.

This person also has a stubborn side, and finally Georgiana asked Matilda to heat up the leftovers, and then opened a bottle of red wine to serve, and now he smiled "satisfactorily".

"Are you going to sit and eat with that big knife?" she said bluntly.

Bonaparte was about to undo the belt himself, when the man who followed him spoke.

"Why don't you help him untie it, ma'am."

"Who are you?"

"Admiral Jean-Mathieu Serurier, former Doge of Venice, is about to go to Holland," said the man.

In other words, this person will replace Augereau as the new commander of the Dutch garrison?

She didn't make a sound. After all, it's not up to her to decide whether to withdraw or not. She glanced at the short Corsican man, who had already raised his hands.

After a fierce fight, both Zorro and Elena in the movie were out of breath, and what was even more exaggerated was that the young farmer was really not a gentleman, and cut Miss Elena's clothes with a sword.

"Are you surrendering?" the new generation of Zorro asked.

"Never," Elena replied, and her kiss was stolen by the masked thief.

She should give that bad guy a little color, and it's best to stab him with a dagger when he is indulging in beauty.

Georgiana walked over very reluctantly, looked at his belt, and untied it after studying it. It was red and embroidered with gold thread. Ke Jian fell to the wooden floor with a "boom", she picked it up and tried to find a place to put it together with the belt.

But he lowered his raised hand and wrapped it around her waist.

"Still angry?"

She stared at the two "outsiders" present, and felt that some topics were not suitable for discussion now.

"I'm going to cook." She said softly, and then he let go of his hand, as if that was what he was waiting for.

She walked to the door of the living room with her belt and sword in her arms, and looked back. The three men were communicating harmoniously. Napoleon, who took off his belt and sword, looked loose, while Seruriel was still wearing a full suit. and saber.

With an indescribable mood, she went outside the living room, handed the sword and belt to Matilda who hadn't gone far, and went back to the kitchen to cook.

Then she remembered that she went to the vegetable market in luxurious clothes, and now she was cooking in the same clothes, no wonder those Belgians were so surprised.

After the meal was ready, she was not in a hurry to meet the guests, but changed into loose clothes, and then asked the maids to bring the dishes to the table. At this time, Bonaparte and Seruriel had already entered and took their seats. It's pasta, with seafood and bacon, and the lamb chops left over just now, enough for them to eat.

Bonaparte's eating behavior has always been like this, gobbling it up, and she didn't bother to correct it. Anyway, she had seen uglier eating behaviors at school. Instead, she reminded Serulier not to patronize and be dazed, after all, Bonaparte himself was full quickly. , He never cared whether other people were full or not.

It is reasonable to say that he has a stomach problem, and for the sake of his health, she should let him eat more slowly.

However, smoking is harmful to health, but it can make people feel relaxed. During the period of tobacco burning, you can slowly disarm your body and return to the roles in the family, such as father, husband, son, brother, etc.

People describe home as a harbor. Sailors ride the wind and waves outside and want to get a full rest in the harbor. She will not give him too much restraint.

Sure enough, he left the table when he was full, and had no intention of staying with the guests. Georgiana hurriedly spoke to Seruriel.

The general was very aristocratic, and at the same time knew the dining etiquette very well. Georgiana left the restaurant after eating with him.

Bonaparte was in the study at the moment, sitting on the sofa reading a document, and Ferri looked at Georgiana helplessly.

Georgiana told Ferri to leave and stood opposite him.

He put the file down.

"You signed it without looking at it?" He looked up at her with his big head up.

"I thought you had read it for me." She said, folding her hands.

He patted the sofa, and she sat in the position he designated, and then he lay on her lap.

It was lunch break time, Georgiana didn't say anything, let him lie quietly, and touched his short chestnut hair by the way.

"You didn't climb the bell tower, is it really because you took care of the archbishop?" He asked angrily after a while.

"When you are 80 years old, you will know how tired you are when you climb the bell tower in such a suit, and it's twice." She said indifferently.

"Why did you go back halfway?"

"I can't leave the archbishop alone on the top of the tower, you see the flames made by those strange birds."

"Why don't you worry about me?" He said unhappily.

"You pulled me to the back." She said unhappy, "What? You don't mind hiding behind girls now?"

He got angry, got up and threw her down.

"Say, where were you that night?" he said, staring at her, his eyes burning.

Rather than saying that he looked like a jealous husband, it was more like an interrogation. If she didn't answer well, she might be captured by outsiders and shipped to the Netherlands.

"You hit me, I'm angry, I need fresh air," she said quietly. "Where are the people watching me? They say they didn't see it?"

"There are no obstacles in the wilderness, and there was heavy fog that day, so they couldn't see anything." He also said calmly, "Including who you secretly met."

She thought for a while, as if that was the case, the fog was like what she had seen in the Louvre in the 21st century.

"Your explanation is so simple that it is difficult for others to believe you," said Bonaparte.

"Is it someone else or you?"

He didn't answer, just fluttering his nostrils, looking like he was still angry.

"Why do people like complicated stories? Elaborate lies can also be complicated," she said wearily.

"Is it necessary?" he growled under his breath. "For something like this?"

It was difficult for her to explain to him, because she also felt that Lily was making a fuss and parted ways with Severus because of a title.

Hufflepuff was treated like a fool, sometimes outspoken, and sometimes treated in such a way that it was such a surprise that Cedric represented Hogwarts as champion.

But she doesn't care about that kind of insult, she doesn't know those people anyway.

It hurts the most to be said that by someone who cares. This is different from Hermione being called by Draco. That "little princess" didn't cry because she liked Draco.

"I want you to praise me." She fought back tears "rather than scolding."

"What do you want me to praise you for?"

"I... I dance well."

"You dance well, I just told you not to be so 'heroic' in public."

It's hard to say what mood she was in, anyway, she pushed him hard, and this time he was unmoved.

"Wow."

She was so sad that she cried.

After a while, he let go of his hand and sat up straight again.

"Women, it is always necessary to listen to other people's flattery." He teased.

"You're not the same yourself." She got up aggressively and said.

He smiled contemptuously.

"But I can see through the other party's intentions when they say these words, can you?"

She didn't bother to talk to him.

As a result, he lay back on her lap without authorization.

"If you feel that your dance is not beautiful enough, you can find a teacher. Didn't you help a ballet dancer last time?" He said vaguely, "Call me in a quarter of an hour."

That's right, she can ask the chief ballet dancer of the Paris Opera House to correct her dance moves, instead of practicing in front of the mirror as before, she guesses that Miss Chevigny would not dare to dictate her dance moves, who made her a "big shot" up.

But she was still angry.

"Damn Corsican dwarf," she murmured.

"You're shorter than me, dwarf," he said with his eyes closed.

She pinched his arm hard.

With such thick clothes, he was unmoved as if he had been bitten by a mosquito.

"Remember to call me."

"What's your attitude!"

Her answer was heavy breathing.