The gods crowned her [Famous Book]

Because of mastering the core technology of the telegraph, Ivy can get the frontline battle report much faster than the messenger.

At the moment when the French army was victorious in Portugal, the French emperor gave Marshal Soult a death order: he must win the victory at all costs. The latter is his most trusted general and is known as the best tactical genius in Europe. It is imperative to carry out the emperor's instructions.

At this moment, Arthur quickly landed in Lisbon, and the two sides fought in the strategically important city of Porto. He sent two troops, one to fight head-on, using the wine ship left by the Portuguese to hide the soldiers, and under the cover of artillery The vanguard was transported to the opposite bank, and after another detour, the French army, which had always been proud of its surprise attack tactics, was caught off guard and occupied Porto.

He defeated 23 enemy troops at the cost of 2.3 casualties, leaving no respite for the latter, and pursued all the way. Soult was so frightened that he lost all his supplies and equipment, and led his army to flee back to France.

The victory of this battle quickly spread throughout Europe, and it was undoubtedly an unprecedented celebration for the countries that were shrouded in the shadow of the French army.

Even Napoleon, who was furious when he received the news of the defeat, had to admit that this opponent he once despised had now become his greatest enemy in Europe.

"I heard that someone in Paris wants to secretly rebel and overthrow me from the throne. The generals who claim to be loyal are another bunch of trash. You guys are like dirt!"

In the Tuileries Palace, he crumpled the battle report in his hand and smashed it on the marble floor angrily, the dim candlelight above his head cast his gloomy face.

The cronies beside him lined up, all looking at each other in dismay. Surte, who had just fled back in embarrassment, was even more ashamed, kneeling on the ground with his head bowed, waiting to be punished by the emperor.

The other generals were also terrified. Seeing that their great emperor overturned all the documents stacked on the table in a fit of rage, and even a row of Venetian vases rolled to the ground with a "crash" and shattered into scattered pieces. .

The Lyon roses in the vase scattered desolately, withered like birds that had lost their lives, and their petals floated freely on the messy surface.

"Tell me, what's the name of that damned Viscount Wellington?" Napoleon gritted his teeth and kept pacing in front of his courtiers, with an expression that almost tore the enemy general into pieces.

The entire audience was shrouded in trepidation. Only Talleyrand sat on a birch and rattan chair, glanced leisurely at the monarch in the center of the storm, and a silent smile rose from the corner of his mouth.

"My respected Emperor, his name is Arthur, his surname is Wellesley, and he is from Ireland." Soult reported respectfully, but he didn't dare to look at him again.

"Wellesley." Napoleon's gray-blue pupils suddenly narrowed, like a dormant animal that has lived in the shadows for a long time and was suddenly stimulated by the light, and fell into a terrible silence for a moment.

Only the close attendants knew that this was a sign of the emperor's furious anger. They could already smell the smell of gunpowder at the tip of their noses. They held their breath, made eye contact with each other, and waited for the emperor's complete eruption.

Everyone's shoulders shrugged, and cold sweat leaked from their backs, soaking their glorious marshal's uniform, like a poisonous snake spitting out a letter, quietly coiling around the body, locking the seven orifices that swallow air, and forcibly stopping the beating of the heart. And chill from the bottom up of the closed blood, forcing them to listen to the king's rapid breathing.

In the dead silence, everyone heard a chuckle in the corner.

It was as abrupt as a cannonball exploded suddenly, throwing a heavy uproar in the quiet air.

Turning back, they saw Talleyrand who had been sitting all the time, looking down at the broken rose petals on the ground, shaking his head and sighing: "What a pity."

It's just that his romance and regret were so inappropriate, everyone cast surprised and shocking glances at him, and then glanced at the gloomy emperor.

His chest was beating violently, suppressing his anger, suppressing his innate brutal nature, and slowly approaching his courtiers.

"Charles..." Napoleon remained calm, looking directly into Talleyrand's slightly smiling eyes, "I heard that someone wants me to die."

The latter greeted his aggressive gaze frankly, and reflected his own smiling face in those gray-blue pupils.

His calm expression is especially handsome, and his delicately carved facial features seem to be from the hands of ancient Greek sculptors. The aristocratic temperament on his body is elegant and calm, but cunning like a fox. He is called a cynical prince, like a shining star The clear glass marbles fell into the dark night with the wind, and instantly merged into one.

Even in front of the mighty ruler, he still remained calm, obviously aroused the emperor's wrath very quickly, and the long-logged anger burst out immediately, Napoleon lost all his due demeanor, and couldn't help but grabbed his bow tie, " Charles Talleyrand! I give you a prominent position, supreme honor and status, what more do you want! Call me a tyrant in private, conspire against me, ungrateful thing!"

It was rare for the emperor to be so furious. In an instant, the ministers behind him knelt on the ground collectively, exchanging glances in bewilderment.

Napoleon gritted his teeth, and let go of Talleyrand's hand, "I really regret that I didn't send that damned woman to the guillotine with my own hands, and sent her head to her hateful brother, so that he can take a closer look, This is what happens when you fight against the Emperor of France!"

"Your Majesty, when you were madly in love with her, you were so generous that you put the lifeblood of the Bank of France into her hands, gave away the best land in Paris, and gave away half of the people of France in her pocket Over gold coins, oh, I still remember, I can still vividly remember the scene where you pursued her."

"Charles Talleyrand!" Napoleon stopped his ridicule, his eagle eyes were dark and dark, "Wellesley promised you how many francs, so that you are so desperate to overthrow me! You are nothing but It's just a dog in silk stockings! Thief, bastard, shameless! Things like shit are worthy of telling me what to do!"

When his voice fell, Talleyrand suddenly shut up and did not refute a word.

His smile never restrained. Under the eagle-like eyes of the emperor, he slowly got up, took the crutch leaning against the corner of the wall, and walked past the angry Napoleon as if nothing had happened.

He glanced at everyone, his expression was unbelievably calm, his aristocratic temperament like water submerged the erupting volcano, and he made a regretful expression: "Gentlemen, look at it, it is really shocking for such a great person to speak so viciously at each other. disappointment."

His composure amplified the emperor's gaffe, and made Napoleon a living beast in a frenzy, with rudeness and impertinence spreading like a plague from the Tuileries to his courtiers.

This class always spread the news the fastest. People whispered about the emperor's fury in front of the ministers, uttered unscrupulous words, lost all the demeanor that a king should have, and his prestige began to decline for a while.

"Oh, Charles, how does it feel to be scolded bloody by Bonaparte?" Fouche recalled the emperor's attitude in the living room of Talleyrand's house, and looked at this calm colleague with a smile.

Sure enough, Talleyrand laughed happily, and blew lightly on the hot coffee, and the water mist immediately filled his unpredictable eyes: "Seeing him angry and crazy, I feel wonderful."

"Haha..." Fouche laughed, "I'm also waiting to experience the feeling of pulling the emperor who looked down on me from the throne."

Talleyrand's hand stirring the spoon suddenly stopped, and the two looked at each other deeply through the hazy water vapor.

Only Fouché, an old fox, can spy out his intentions, take off the mask of Napoleon's supremacy, and let everyone discover the emperor's vulgar nature. This is the goal he would rather be humiliated in public.

In an instant, they looked at each other and smiled in the thick aroma of coffee beans, and the political enemies who once looked at each other became partners at this time.Although each has its own ghosts, the goal is surprisingly the same.

betray……

"Look, this is the beginning of the end."

·

Ivy was not at all surprised by the farce that happened in the Tuileries Palace this morning.Today is Sunday, she pulled up her skirt, knelt under the altar of the church with a group of believers, and listened to the blessings bumping back and forth between the murals on the ceiling, and when they got into her ears, she was still imagining Napoleon's angry look.

People like Talleyrand are greedy in nature and keen on backstabbing. Taking a piece of meat can drive him around. As long as he is promised enough money, he can even betray his own father.

Therefore, she promised 300 million francs in the letter, making this cunning and vicious political genius swear to serve herself, to be loyal to the enemy country, and to leave behind the emperor who has been so kind to her, and become the price for him to swear to the new master.

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Thy kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven; forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors, and not call When we meet temptation, save us from evil. Because the kingdom, power, and glory are all yours, forever, Amen."

The Gospel of Matthew on the altar is lingering with prayers, the angels clean up evil plots, and compete with Satan for mortals with ghosts in their hearts.One attempted so-called salvation, the other spared no effort to assist the fall.

The priest walked towards Ivy with hymns, holding the sacred written prayer in his hand, and his kind voice came from above his head: "Wellesley, what is your wish?"

"God is above, I hope that brother can win all the victories in the next battle, avoid more casualties, and return safely." She closed her eyes and replied quietly.

"God will hear your pious heart," said the priest.

This venerable old man believed that God would bless this pure and beautiful virgin, show favor unsparingly, and bestow blessings on his believers.

At least he is so sure.

Ivy didn't look up, but she knew that the priest's expression must be full of appreciation and love at this moment, just like his usual compassionate heart.

However, at this moment, amidst the peace and tranquility, suddenly, there was a terrified scream in the church.

She opened her eyes, and saw a cruel and bloody scene in front of her. The smell of blood that belonged to the human body came along with the wind blowing into the window. The crow followed the breath of death and entered the house. The hymn on the altar suddenly stopped, Drawn to a rest baptized by sin.

Arthur's best friend, his staunchest ally and supporter, Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, cut his own throat in public at the closest distance to God. A sharp letter opener is lying at hand.

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