Chapter 428: Chapter 422: The Battle of Public Opinion Under the Shadow
"Is France not afraid of the Austrian Empire joining forces with the Russian Empire?"
An infuriated Richard Metternich blurted out, and moments later, he regretted his actions. He had committed an unforgivable error for a diplomat: allowing personal emotions to influence foreign policy.
His father, Prince Metternich, had once told him that a person overwhelmed by emotions could never become a true diplomat, for a single careless word could make a nation pay for his mistake.
An excellent diplomat must always maintain a calm mind, something Richard Metternich clearly lacked at this moment.
"Your Majesty, I..." Richard Metternich attempted to rectify his earlier mistake. As he looked into Jerome Bonaparte’s eyes, he saw a bone-chilling indifference, as if Jerome viewed him as nothing more than a pathetic ant.
This perception gave Richard Metternich the illusion that Jerome Bonaparte was no longer a mere human, but a deity holding the fate of three million lives of the Austrian Empire in his hands.
I... I really lost my head, to have said such a thing!
Richard Metternich felt deep regret, with saliva secreting in his mouth due to nervousness, forcing him to swallow it down. His pale fingers and cheeks were sweating profusely from extreme anxiety.
Time in Richard Metternich’s senses began to slow down. Though he was seated on a chair, he felt as if he was sitting on a volcano about to erupt. The burning sensation from the seat made every second unbearable for him!
It seemed like centuries passed before the monarch opposite Richard Metternich, Jerome Bonaparte, slowly spoke, "Richard Metternich!"
"Your Majesty!" This time, Richard Metternich’s tone carried a hint of plea and humility as he hoped Jerome Bonaparte would overlook his impudent behavior.
"I have every reason to consider your earlier words as an Austrian Empire’s disdain for the French Empire, warranting a declaration of war! Do not forget the blood feuds between the House of Napoleon and the Habsburg Clan! You think your joining will truly help the Russian Empire defeat us, correct?" Jerome Bonaparte intoned calmly, as if stating an established fact.
The "blood feuds" Jerome Bonaparte referred to were the actions of Louis Napoleon’s brothers in the Italian Region and the inexplicable death of the King of Rome in Vienna.
Each incident could give him a reason to destroy the Habsburg Kingdom.
"I... I’m not..." Richard Metternich’s teeth chattered slightly within his lips.
As Jerome Bonaparte noted, the House of Napoleon had countless reasons to wage war against the Austrian Empire.
After the Hungarian rebellion, the military strength of the Austrian Empire was far inferior to that of France. Jerome Bonaparte’s only concern was Radetzky residing in Italy.
This octogenarian, formerly the Allied Chief of Staff, was akin to a stabilizing force for the Austrian Empire.
Jerome Bonaparte himself did not have the confidence to completely vanquish this old man. Moreover, the Austrian Empire was also an important pawn for him in counterbalancing the increasingly powerful Kingdom of Prussia. While he could frequently criticize it, he was reluctant to destroy the piece entirely.
As Richard Metternich anxiously awaited Jerome Bonaparte’s "judgment,"
Jerome Bonaparte’s attitude softened slightly as he continued, "I understand, you do not wish to truly sever ties with the Russian Empire. On this matter, I can give you some time.
Before the French Army reaches the Ottoman Empire, you have ample time to deliberate!
Once the French forces have firmly established themselves in the Ottoman Empire, I hope the Austrian Empire will convey your intentions to me.
Whether it is war or peace, the choice is yours! However, I can responsibly tell you that if you choose to oppose France, France will mercilessly crush you!
I will unite with all the rebel forces within your empire, with the Kingdom of Prussia, and the Sardinian Kingdom, and smash all your lands, wealth, and everything you possess!
By then, the Austrian Empire will no longer exist in Central Europe!"
Faced with Jerome Bonaparte’s stark threat of war, Richard Metternich’s complexion grew even paler.
From Jerome Bonaparte’s solemn gaze, Richard Metternich could ascertain the truth in his words; the French Empire truly had the capability to annihilate the Austrian Empire.
"I will certainly advise our Majesty to maintain amicable relations with the French Empire! During my lifetime, I will uphold the friendship between the French Empire and the Austrian Empire!" At this moment, Richard Metternich became an absolute member of the Pro-French Faction, responding to Jerome Bonaparte with a solemn expression.
"I hope that the French Empire and the Austrian Empire can forge ahead together in the years to come! Moreover, I personally do not wish to see a country like the Austrian Empire perish either!" Jerome Bonaparte’s mouth showed a kindly smile, and his words became increasingly amicable.
"I believe so too!" Richard Metternich hastily responded to Jerome Bonaparte.
Afterward, Richard Metternich and Jerome Bonaparte engaged in a brief exchange of pleasantries.
With Mokar’s escort, Richard Metternich left the Tuileries Palace as if he had narrowly escaped a disaster.
That night, upon returning to the embassy, Richard Metternich informed the Rothschild Envoy of the situation.
The order for Richard Metternich to go to the Tuileries Palace to gather intelligence surprised the Rothschild Envoy. He smiled somewhat ambiguously at Richard Metternich, raising his thumb as if in praise of Richard Metternich’s courage.
Richard Metternich displayed a wry smile and immediately inquired whether the Rothschild Envoy thought he should write to the Austrian Empire to inform them of the current events.
After obtaining the Rothschild Envoy’s consent, Richard Metternich lit the kerosene lamp, bent over his desk, and wrote a letter to Vienna detailing the events in France, adding his own diplomatic insights at the end of the letter.
When Richard Metternich handed over the written letter for the Rothschild Envoy’s review, the lazily expressive Rothschild Envoy praised him once again, saying that he truly took after his father.
However, the Rothschild Envoy’s praise sounded piercing to the current Richard Metternich’s ears.
Subsequently, the Rothschild Envoy helped Richard Metternich send the letter back to Vienna via post.
In this era, although the telegraph had already been invented, at this stage, it was entirely in the hands of the government, and Richard Metternich could not guarantee that his letters would not be intercepted.
He could only use the most primitive postal methods to send the letter to Vienna.
As the saying goes, the weather in August changes as quickly as a child’s mood. Just in the latter half of the night after Richard Metternich finished his letter, dark clouds shrouded the entire sky over Paris.
Soon after, sounds of thunder and lightning emanated from the clouds as if there was a deity named Zeus within them, wielding his family’s artifact to cast thunder upon Paris, hoping to shatter the city’s seven deadly sins with lightning.
After a while, rain began to adhere to the laws of physics and the influence of gravity, surging with all its might from the clouds and "colliding" towards Paris below, seemingly intent on washing away the city’s sins with their bodies.
As time passed, the rain grew heavier, the torrential downpour hitting the glass windows made a "pitter-patter" sound, cold raindrops falling upon colder iron bars, splashing into little flowers of water, each completing its mission and merging with the environment.
About two hours later, the rain began to gradually wane, the misty raindrops becoming gentle like a spring breeze, with the window panes transitioning from their previously hurried "melody" to a prolonged and gentle one.
Another two hours passed, and just as dawn began to break, the clouds and rain disappeared, leaving only the puddles on the cement streets, and a humid air lingered.
By 9 AM, the previously quiet streets began to gradually become lively.
Newsboys wearing worn-out caps, carrying various newspapers, wandered the streets energetically shouting, "Papers! Papers for sale! Who wants the paper? The new editions of ’Bonaparte Newspaper’, ’Observer’, ’Diplomatic Daily’..."
Gentlemen, coming and going on the street, stopped at the newsboy’s calls.
"Do you want to buy one?" The newsboy, knowing he got a customer, hurriedly approached the gentleman, offering him the papers and asking, "I have ’Bonaparte Newspaper’, ’Observer’, ’Constitutional Newspaper’... Which one would you like?"
"Just give me any paper!" The gentleman looked at the poorly dressed newsboy in front of him, felt a pang of sympathy, and casually exclaimed.
"Alright, Sir!" The newsboy quickly handed the gentleman a paper named ’Diplomatic Daily’.
"Hmm? Why haven’t I seen this newspaper before? Is it newly published?" The gentleman asked, puzzled.
"Yes, Sir!" The newsboy nodded in response to the gentleman, "Each is only about 3 centimes!"
"3 centimes? That’s indeed quite cheap!" The gentleman remarked, then perused the paper.
The newsboy stood silently by, waiting for the gentleman to settle the payment.