The Shadow of Great Britain

394: Chapter 230: Flowers, Swords, Poland, and France (6K4)_4 394: Chapter 230: Flowers, Swords, Poland, and France (6K4)_4 The caddy took a club out of the bag and weighed it in his hands, “Aaron Robertson, Your Excellency, don’t blame me for not warning you, to this date, no one has beaten me on the golf course.”

“Well then, Mr.

Robertson, where shall the two of us start playing from?”

“Your Excellency, we’ll play by the rules and complete eighteen holes, I’ll give you a three-stroke head start.

As for the initial teeing ground, I’ll let you choose.”

Talleyrand found a formidable opponent and couldn’t help getting excited about competing with him.

He raised his hand to bid farewell to Arthur and Lionel, “Gentlemen, this lad is just too arrogant.

It would be utterly unmanly not to accept his challenge.

Oh, and Arthur, don’t forget to save me a ticket.”

“A ticket?” Arthur asked with a frown, “What ticket?”

As Talleyrand walked away, he turned his head and waved at Arthur, “What else could it be?

A ticket to your duel with Foil Napoleon.

Arthur, don’t say I don’t support you as a friend.

Though Foil Napoleon is French, I’ll certainly bet it all on you.

You wouldn’t let this poor old man lose a fortune, now would you?”

Watching Talleyrand leave, Arthur suddenly lit his cigar, “Mr.

Talleyrand really does business briskly, saying all that needs to be said without intending to stay a moment longer.”

Lionel nodded slightly, “It seems that all those conversations with Viscount Palmeston were intentionally leaked to us.

He’s still not giving up on the Polish matter and knows that Rothschild is now aligned with the Whig Party, while you can reach the Home Secretary, the High Chancellor, and the Tory Party.

Some things are better said by us than relayed by him to these people, as his position is still too officially French.”

At this point, Lionel turned his head and asked, “Arthur, what do you think the final outcome of this matter will be?”

Arthur took a puff on his cigar, “There will be no outcome in the short term, the Parliament is still too busy with many other issues, and the Polish problem doesn’t rank high compared to parliamentary reform.

But for Mr.

Talleyrand, perhaps he didn’t expect an outcome anyway, he’s probably just trying to cause Viscount Palmeston some grief.

With a talent for making enemies, even Napoleon would be doomed if he crossed him, so why wouldn’t he want to show Palmeston a bit of his vindictive nature?”

After thinking for a moment, Lionel said, “Well, it’s good to have a favor from Mr.

Talleyrand, especially since we also have significant business in Paris.

However, Arthur, how do you plan to handle it?”

“Me?

I’ll see how things go,” Arthur loosened his wrist, “Besides, don’t I still have a focal match to play?

What’s the story with this Foil Napoleon?”

“You’re actually interested?”

Lionel smiled and winked, “Foil Napoleon, the Paris Sword Saint, Francois Bertrand.

Think carefully, Arthur, this man is not like those posers at the London fencing clubs.

He doesn’t have many fancy but impractical moves, but his sword speed and agility are the best I’ve ever seen.

Just last month, upon his arrival in London, he swept through all of London’s fencing venues, toppling thirty-six of London’s finest fencers in a row.”

Arthur blew a smoke ring, “Oh?

Sounds somewhat familiar, didn’t he also split a plaque that read ‘The Sick Man of France’ or something?”

Lionel tried to recall the news reports, “A plaque?

No, that didn’t happen.”

Arthur asked, “Anyway, what is his style?

The Richard Naur Style of Germany, the Mayer Style, or is he like me, preferring the Fiore Style of Italy?”

“None of those.”

Lionel laughed, “Arthur, you’re accustomed to longsword techniques.

As his nickname suggests, Mr.

Bertrand is a foil master.

His fencing is the graceful, fluid, and stable French foil style, focusing primarily on thrusting.

But if you’re used to Fiore’s fencing style, you should be able to pick up the Italian style of foil fencing quickly.

After all, Fiore’s style also originated in Italy and boasts aggression, ferocity, and sharpness.

Particularly with footwork, having a foundation in Fiore’s style means even without deliberate practice, you can intuitively use small leaps to corner your opponent.

The beauty of Italian foil is its strong visual appeal, even in defeat you appear to dominate your opponent throughout the match.

And if your opponent is the slightest bit inattentive, they could be finished by one of your leaping thrusts.”

Arthur pondered for a moment then spoke up, “Sounds promising, it looks like I’ll need to take some time to practice then.

I’ve been quite short on cash recently.”

Lionel winked, “Don’t worry, Arthur.

Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.

I’ll organize this event, and I assure you we’ll make a killing just from ticket sales.”