Chapter 382 The Agreement Made
Outside the Palace of Versailles, Daphne and Francis were inside an automobile, with Francis teaching his little sister how to drive.
"No, you are doing it wrong," Francis corrected gently, his hands poised above the gear stick, ready to intervene if necessary. "You need to synchronize the clutch and the accelerator more smoothly. When you release the clutch too quickly while not giving enough gas, the engine doesn't get enough power to keep running, which causes it to stall."
Francis could see on her face that Daphne was about to tear up. "Why is this so hard?"
"Driving a manual car is about understanding the mechanics," Francis explained. "When you press the clutch, you're disconnecting the engine from the transmission to change gears. You have to balance the clutch and the accelerator to transfer the power back smoothly."
Francis continued. "Think of the clutch as a bridge between the engine and the transmission. You have to ensure a smooth transition of power. When you change gears, you disconnect and then reconnect that bridge. It's all about the timing and the balance between both pedals."
Daphne took a deep breath and pressed the clutch pedal, her other foot lightly touching the accelerator. She moved the gear stick to the first gear, her movements more confident now. Slowly, she began to release the clutch while simultaneously pressing the accelerator. The car lurched a bit, but this time, it didn't stall.
"Better," Francis smiled. "But you are not ready to drive down the public road if you are that slow, you'll get pulled over by the traffic enforcers."
"I know…" Daphne muttered under her breath. "So what's next?"
As Francis was about to continue the lesson, he caught sight of a convoy entering the Palace of Versailles. On the hood, he saw a Russian flag fluttering.
"Oh…I almost forgot. The Russian Emperor is visiting the Palace of Versailles. I need you to switch with me, Daphne."
"Why?"
"You see those convoys? Those are the Russian convoy. Didn't Father tell you that the Emperor of Russia is coming to Versailles?" Francis reminded her.
"Ahh…I remember. Okay, let's switch."
Daphne and Francis exited the car, switching places swiftly. Francis took the driver's seat, starting the engine with a practiced ease that Daphne envied. She watched closely as he smoothly engaged the clutch and shifted the gears, the car moving effortlessly under his control.
He parked it at a place that couldn't be seen by the convoy, and once they did, they spurred towards the main entrance.
At the main entrance, the Russian convoy parked their vehicles and one by one, the Russian Emperor's entourage stepped out.
Francis and Daphne arrived just in time, tidying themselves up quickly before the Russian Emperor arrived at the doorstep.
Moments later, the Russian Emperor, Tsar Paul I, stepped out of the vehicle and was quickly surrounded by his Imperial Guards.
"There he is, the one of the Russian great emperors, Tsar Paul I," Francis said in awe. He had a deep respect for the Russian Emperor. He was one of the first Emperors who recognized the need for industrialization and modernization of his Empire. He abolished the old order and implemented radical reforms that made Russia what it is today.
In terms of global power, Russia is the second strongest nation on Earth, having one of the largest army and navy that could rival France. Though the technology of the Russian Empire may be inferior to the French state-of-the-art military hardware, they can't be underestimated.
When the Russian Emperor was nearing their position, Francis and Daphne bowed respectfully. Tsar Paul I acknowledged their gesture with a nod, his expression stoic yet commanding.
"So you two are the son and daughter of the French Emperor?" Tsar Paul I said tersely.
"We are Your Imperial Majesty. I'm the Crown Prince of the French Empire, Francis Bonaparte, and this is my little sister, Daphne Bonaparte."
"It's an honor to meet you, Your Imperial Majesty," Daphne added.
"The honor is mine," he replied in a deep tone. "Now, you must excuse me as your father is waiting for me."
"Allow us to escort you to the stateroom," Francis offered, raising his head slightly and gesturing toward the direction of the stateroom. Tsar Paul I gave a curt nod, and they proceeded, with the Imperial Guards following closely.
The walk to the stateroom was brief but filled with an air of solemnity. Daphne remained quiet. Francis, meanwhile, made small talk with Tsar Paul I, discussing recent developments in France and expressing his admiration for the modernization efforts in Russia.
Upon reaching the stateroom, they found the French Emperor and Empress seated on a chair.
"Here it is, Your Imperial Majesty," Francis said, extending his hand forward into the stateroom. "We will excuse ourselves now."
Tsar Paul, I entered the stateroom, nodding to the French Emperor and Empress. Francis and Daphne, after ensuring the Tsar was comfortably settled, discreetly exited the room.
"Your son and daughter were kind, Napoleon," Tsar Paul I praised.
"Well, we have taught them well, Your Imperial Majesty," Napoleon responded with a hint of pride in his voice.
Tsar Paul I flickered his gaze to Napoleon's wife, Ciela. "Looking beautiful as ever, Ciela."
Ciela giggled and responded with grace, "Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. We are honored by your presence here."
"Please, why don't we take a seat and start the diplomatic business?" Napoleon said, gesturing to the chairs arranged around a large table in the center of the stateroom.
Tsar Paul I took a seat, his demeanor shifting to one of focus and intent. Napoleon and Ciela joined him, along with their advisors.
"If you ever feel hungry, please, feel free to pick one of the sweets. It's baked by my wife," Napoleon said.
"No problem, I will enjoy them after we have finished our talk," Tsar Paul I said. "Now, I heard that there has been a minor incident in the Ionian Sea."
"I won't call them an incident because nothing ever happened aside from the fact that our warship met there. But what's concerning is that your captain told us that you are supporting the Ottomans?"
"Oh please Napoleon, stop asking the obvious. In revolution, one must pick a side. We found out that helping the Ottomans has more benefits than supporting the Greeks."
"Greek is religiously tied to the Western Europe, or Europe as a whole. Don't you think that helping the Ottomans would alienate you from the rest of Europe?" Napoleon inquired.
"Well, I guess this is where concessions come in?" Tsar Paul I said, as if expecting this.
Napoleon laughed softly. "Wait…you are siding with the Ottomans just so you can engage in negotiation with France?"
Tsar Paul I nodded. "Well, we might consider it seriously if you don't have something to offer. I'm sure you have prepared something for me to prevent the tension from rising between our nations."
"Great, this will be easy then," Napoleon flicked his finger, and a footman, carrying a silver tray, approached. Resting atop the silver tray is a rolled paper. Napoleon grabbed it and unfurled the document, revealing what appeared to be a map of Central Asia.
"Look, I know Russia has intentions of expanding deeper into Central Asia, and I'm going to let you have all of it."
"In exchange, I will stop supplying the Ottomans with weapons?" Tsar Paul I guessed.
Napoleon shook his head. "No, you will continue to supply them with weapons, and France will supply weapons to the revolutionaries. But that's it, no direct intervention, just proxy war."
"Hmm…I see…but what would happen if the Greeks lost against the Ottomans? You won't hold us responsible and will still hold the end of your bargain?" Tsar Paul I asked.
"Of course but if it's the other way around, you will recognize the independence of the Greeks," Napoleon replied.
Tsar Paul, I considered this for a moment, his gaze fixed on the map laid out before him. "That seems like a reasonable arrangement. It keeps the balance of power in check and allows both our nations to pursue their interests without direct conflict. Very well, Napoleon. You have your agreement."
Napoleon clapped. "Great."
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