Harry Potter Morning Light

In the winter of 1801, there was a great flood in Paris before it froze, and the water of the Seine River overflowed to the Elysee Palace, but at that time Georgiana was living in the greenhouse of the Grand Trianon Palace, so what happened in the city Did not know.

One of Napoleon's dreams, besides conquering the "Orient", was to build Paris into the most beautiful city in the world. After the flood, he just gave him an excuse, so the Port of Orsay began to be rebuilt, and because of the monumental column of Desai in Dijon, So another Desai Wharf was built.

In addition, he also wanted to build an opera house like the "Milan Grand Theater", and raise the foundation, so that the audience would not be afraid of floods, and the audience could go to the theater by boat. There was an open and secret infighting between the architects of France, and Fontaine almost gave up on the project of redesigning the Palace of Fontainebleau as a new military academy.

The playwright in trouble was Emmanuel Dipatti, and the play he cast in the actor Fedor passed the censors without any cuts.

Now opera censorship is under the responsibility of the Ministry of the Interior and the Ministry of Police, which means that if Napoleon wants to curse people, he will also curse Chaputal and Fouché.

She couldn't just watch these actors being exiled to the colony. These people knew nothing but acting. So many strong soldiers died of yellow fever, and their exile was basically a death sentence. She felt that they should at least be given a chance to repent, so she stayed after Napoleon left, in the meeting room of the opera house Rio met with those parties.

The Guards in uniform followed Napoleon, accompanied by plainclothes policemen. Since the last assassination was intercepted, there have always been plainclothes presences in the theater.

She waited for a long time, Mr. Dubes, one of the shareholders of the opera house, came in with a pale and thin man. He was familiar with Godin Poitvin. Georgiana was introduced by him once, and the other man was completely different from her. do not know.

"This is Mr. Dipathi," said Mr. Dub, in the booming voice of an actor.

Georgiana looked at the playwright.

He looked very ordinary, neither was he dressed particularly gorgeously, nor was he particularly shabby. He should belong to the "middle class", and he was much better off than Canova's students.

According to the thinking of normal people, "killers" should be low- and middle-income people, because they have no other means of making a living, so they can only get paid by killing people.

But artists are different from normal people. If Napoleon had listened to Selassie's invitation to modify the statue, he might have been recruited. After all, the "slender" Bonaparte sometimes looks like a woman, and may not be a man. opponent.

However, such a person is a warrior. The reason why Grand Duke Charles received the news of Moreau crossing the river on June 26 was because Napoleon was fighting in full swing in Italy at that time, and he was paying close attention to Napoleon's movements.

He did have a strong will, Antoine-Jean Gros once painted a picture of him raising his flag at the Battle of Arcole in 1796, when a shell missed him and an officer died He saved him, blocked the shell with his body, and the man died at his feet.

Napoleon would not call "retreat" at this time. He raised the military flag, and when the others retreated to avoid the shells, he took the lead in charging. As a result, he was squeezed into the ditch after holding it for a moment.

This kind of "joke" can be opened.

"Do you know why you were asked to come?" Georgiana Pingjin asked, her voice echoing in the gorgeous and empty conference room.

"No...don't know." Dipati trembled.

"Please sit down." Georgiana pointed to a chair next to him, and Dipatty almost sat down with Dub's support.

"Have you ever talked to a beggar in Paris, Monsieur Dipatty?" Georgiana asked after a while.

"No...no."

"Then do you know that many of them are ex-soldiers?" Georgiana asked again.

Dipatti was a little shocked.

"There's a janitor in your script who claims to have served in the military. I think he's luckier than the ex-soldiers who roam the streets, don't you think?"

Dipatty said nothing.

"The Palace of Versailles has now been converted into a disabled military shelter, where you will see more 'formerly served' soldiers. The war has left cruel marks on them. It is not as approachable as you think."

"It?" asked Deepati.

"War, I mean," she corrected, referring also to the wild lion, who was truly horrific in his rage.

"I think……"

"You have a good impression of the First Consul and the soldiers, but I have to say that your joke is a bit too much." Georgiana interrupted him, "Some of these people join the army, some have dreams, some have missions on their shoulders, and they shouldn't be Farce jokes, let alone a game, I understand your desire to make the audience happy, but what you did made the soldiers feel very bad."

Dipatty frowned.

"I mean no harm." He whispered.

"I get it, that's why I'm talking to you here, but I gotta say you're being grandstanding, even though you might think it's funny."

"What should I do?" Dipatty asked anxiously.

She didn't know what to say.

"Come with us to the police station." A man in plainclothes said.

Dipatti looked at Georgiana in panic.

"Since you are a cultural person, do you know that there is an idiom in the East, 'Sickness comes from the mouth, and disaster comes from the mouth'? This sentence means that if you speak carelessly, you will easily cause trouble."

"What should I do?" Deepati asked again.

She had the feeling that the power of life and death was in her own hands.

But she also understands that the most taboo of literati is this kind of behavior of "restricting freedom of speech". Letting Dipatti go to the Tuileries Palace and kneel at Napoleon's feet to confess and admit his mistakes is something they will never tolerate, and it will cause rebellious psychology .

"You will be punished," said Georgiana, "for your imprudence."

"What will my punishment be?" Dipathi said.

Georgiana did not answer him, when the plainclothes officers took him away.

"What shall we do?" asked Mr. Dub after they had gone.

"Before the police come to search, clean up everything that shouldn't be here, even a piece of paper." Georgiana said to him, and then she got up and left.

She came in an open carriage, but it was a very ordinary carriage waiting to pick her up at the entrance of the theater. If Napoleon's adjutant was not there waiting for her, she would not have even looked at it.

"Get in, ma'am," said the adjutant.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Take you back to the Burgundy Mansion." The adjutant smiled politely, "You haven't forgiven the First Consul, have you?"

"He doesn't need other people's forgiveness!" She couldn't help but raise her voice and said, she was about to walk back on foot, when she suddenly found that there were a lot of homeless people after nightfall, and there were many dark shadows in the corners where the street lights couldn't reach.

"It's not safe outside, get in the car." The adjutant said behind her.

"I have a wand." She took out her wand.

"I remember that you wizards seem to have some kind of method, you can't use magic casually." The adjutant said.

"Self-defense can be used." She turned to leave.

The adjutant looked impatient and tried to grab her into the carriage.

But she insisted on going alone, so he could only get into the carriage by himself, letting the carriage follow her step by step.

This area is a wealthy area, and the road conditions are not as bad as the poor areas. There are still pedestrians walking on the road. They are well-dressed and look like they are going to a theater.

A poet once compared Paris, saying that she is "the center of hell". Although there is money in the bank, the money does not belong to me.

In the thirteenth century there was a ballad:

Buy it, buy a fruit tart,

The dagger in the scabbard,

The horn serves as a piccolo.

Whistles are used for herding,

God, please protect the girl.

Maybe maidens can be protected by gods, what about "women" like her?

It was a little cold after nightfall, and she crossed her arms around herself as she walked, as if giving herself a warm hug.