Gazing out the study window at the swiftly departing Count Falu, Jerome Bonaparte knew that his deal with the Catholic Right had been a success.
In all of Paris, none offered the Church Faction more generous terms than Jerome Bonaparte, or perhaps those who could rival him (such as Cafenak) simply refused to negotiate with them. Even those without the capability to reach the electoral finals (like Thiers, Molay, etc.) offered terms that were mere illusions.
Moreover, Count Falu himself was a staunch member of the Monarchist Faction and the Catholic Right. Expecting him to compromise with an Extreme Republican was pure fantasy.
Confident that Count Falu would accept his proposed terms, Jerome Bonaparte smiled with self-assurance.
Even though he had just returned to Paris two days ago, he had already received support from forces beyond his small agricultural base. Part of this support came from the Moderate Republicans led by Victor Hugo, whose base consisted of the small bourgeoisie of Paris keen on protecting their private property. Another part was from the Catholic Right led by Count Falu, with factions from Brittany and the Provençal District.
The electoral situation could not be described as stagnant; it was only adding victory upon victory.
In these favorable circumstances, Jerome Bonaparte felt somewhat euphoric.
After all, he was about to become the youngest President of France at 26, with no previous Republic having a ruler under 30.
Jerome Bonaparte briefly indulged in self-admiration as he gently swayed with closed eyes.
However, his reverie was soon interrupted by Eugène Rue’s call.
"Your Highness..." Eugène Rue burst into Jerome Bonaparte’s study, swallowing nervously and saying intermittently, "Cafenak, Cafenak..."
"What’s with Cafenak?" Jerome Bonaparte snapped out of his daze and, with a serious expression, inquired.
"Cafenak is right downstairs! He said he wants to see you!" Eugène Rue blurted out in one breath.
"Hmm?" A glimmer of surprise flashed in Jerome Bonaparte’s eyes. He couldn’t understand why this dictator wasn’t enjoying his last days of authority at the Elysee Palace but had come here instead. Surely he wasn’t trying to persuade him not to run for the election!
"Tsk tsk tsk! A harbinger of trouble!" Jerome Bonaparte shook his head, standing with hands behind his back, and sighed.
"Should we see him?" Eugène Rue asked Jerome Bonaparte, as decisions of this nature could only be made by the leader himself; anyone else making them would only spell disaster.
"Do we have any choice at the moment?" Jerome Bonaparte shrugged and responded calmly, "Let’s invite our Mr. Governor in! Let’s not keep him waiting!"
"Yes!" Eugène Rue responded, then turned and left Jerome Bonaparte’s study.
To accommodate Cafenak’s arrival, Jerome Bonaparte called Fleury to prepare a pot of fine tea to entertain Cafenak.
Upon receiving the order, Fleury met Eugène Ruby leading Cafenak to the second floor just outside the room.
Cafenak, dressed in a black military tunic, red tapered trousers, and a yellow silk sash around his waist, was surprised to see Fleury and remarked, "Fleury, who would have thought you’d end up here?"
"You know each other?" Jerome Bonaparte’s gaze first fixated on Fleury’s back, then shifted to Cafenak.
"Yes!" Cafenak nodded, responding sternly and coldly, "I once fought alongside Major Fleury in Algeria!"
Major? As expected, my cousin had casually conferred titles upon his confidants.
Jerome Bonaparte silently grumbled to himself.
While he understood his late cousin’s tendency to issue empty titles, he was dissatisfied about having to honor some of them.
He himself wasn’t even sure how many empty titles his cousin had given out.
"Your Highness, I..." Fleury wanted to explain something, but Jerome Bonaparte waved it off, saying, "Go attend to your tasks!"
Fleury went to prepare the tea leaves, while Eugène Rue led Cafenak to Jerome Bonaparte.
Jerome Bonaparte and Cafenak sat facing each other on the sofa in silence, maintaining eye contact for some time until Jerome finally couldn’t hold back and said, "Mr. Governor, I wonder what guidance you bring me by visiting my humble abode!"
"Honestly, Prince Jerome Bonaparte, I don’t like you at all! I should have thrown you in jail back then!" Cafenak said with a faint hostility in his cold tone.
The open hostility from Cafenak did not provoke a matching response from Jerome Bonaparte, who smiled and said, "Governor Cafenak, as a political figure, we cannot prioritize personal dislikes and likes above the Republic! Whether you like me or not, as long as I haven’t violated the Republic’s constitution, you have no power to arrest me!"
"Hmph!" Cafenak’s attitude remained one of disdain, clearly unsatisfied with Jerome Bonaparte’s formal and almost official response.
Seeing this, Jerome Bonaparte put away his smile, his expression turning similarly cold, a look that pushed others away as he said, "Governor, if you came here merely to vent your dissatisfaction, I suggest you do so in private! Curse or pray to God in your own time; it’s your right!"
Jerome Bonaparte’s sarcastic tone made Cafenak uncomfortable. He adjusted his demeanor and said, "I hope you can join my cabinet; the Republic needs someone like you!"
Jerome Bonaparte displayed a look of surprise. He had never expected Cafenak, with whom he had clashed for so long, to invite him one day.
This was a position his "previous life" cousin had never received.
"That depends on what position Governor Cafenak can offer me!" Jerome Bonaparte replied in a cavalier tone.
Cafenak pondered for a moment before responding, "How about Minister of Public Works? I think that position suits you!"
To have control over national public works expenditures meant having the key to the country’s treasury, indicating that Cafenak’s offer was considerable.
"What do you need me to do?"