Shadow of great britain

The first Hastings? Artur Hastingov!

The curtains were half-closed, blocking the sunlight from the glass.

In the bedroom with the smell of alcohol, Arthur's eyelashes trembled slightly.

Slowly opening his eyes, Arthur stared at the ceiling for a long time, then slowly sat up from the bed. He felt that his heavy body was like a lump of lead.

The sheets stuck to his wet skin, and the air was filled with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes.

Almost instinctively, he reached for the kettle at the head of the bed and drank a few gulps of water, but it could only slightly relieve some of his thirst. When the water slid down his throat, he felt a warm comfort, but it was followed by a violent reaction in his stomach. He tried to suppress the nausea that was about to surge.

Arthur put his hand on his forehead, trying to sober himself up. The sunlight outside the window poured into the room through the blinds and shone on the wooden floor. His eyes were fixed on the faint light spot, and his eyes squinted unconsciously.

The memories of last night began to piece together, the dim lights, the actors' tense performances, the fragrance and laughter around him - and his irresistible drinking. Obviously, his situation today was not ideal.

After finally getting up from the bed, he staggered to the window and opened the curtains.

The cold air hit him, making him instantly sober.

The morning in Göttingen was humid, the air was fresh but with an autumn feel, and there were already busy pedestrians on the street. The streets next to it and the monastery tower in the distance seemed particularly quiet.

"Oh my God..." Arthur muttered in a low voice, his voice was hoarse and low, he could hardly stand his own voice. Last night's joy seemed to have become a nightmare, he covered his eyes with his hands, trying to regain his brain's rationality.

He didn't know why he was so greedy for wine last night, maybe the performance of "Turandot" gave him a strange sense of release, allowing him to immerse himself in the tide of applause and cheers, temporarily forgetting the pressure brought by his job.

Being a spy chief is not as easy as some people think. You have to keep so many people, so many things, so many sins and secrets in your heart. You can't tell anyone, and you can't share with anyone. This feeling is not good.

But in a flash, Arthur suddenly felt a deep emptiness in his heart. This feeling was not caused by the physical discomfort caused by the hangover, but from the regret of losing control.

He is no longer the age to go to college. When he was studying at the University of London, he and Elder had a hangover. The worst result was nothing more than meeting a few hooligans when he went out, fighting with them and being thrown into the stinky ditch on the side of the road.

But now...

Now he has too many secrets in his heart, and maybe a slip of the tongue will lead to a disaster.

Whether it was the dirty work he had done in Scotland Yard, the aid funds from Young Italy, the true nature of the Gestapo, or the incident in which Russian students wanted to make a big news in the Moscow Daily...

Arthur walked to the window and glanced at his own reflection on the glass window. On that tired, undecorated face, there was a sense of strangeness in his eyes.

He couldn't help but smile bitterly, thinking silently in his heart: "I really look like a complete stranger."

He walked back to the bed and flipped through the letters and documents under the pillow, trying to find something to concentrate himself.

Suddenly, his eyes stopped on a piece of wax-stained letter paper, and the words "University of Göttingen" were written on the envelope - that was his letter of appointment as the special national representative of the University of Göttingen.

His slightly hot head seemed to be poured with a basin of cold water, and Arthur sighed softly. All this frivolity and entertainment seemed to have no real place in his life. He still needed to stand firm and continue the cold and stressful job.

He took a deep breath, sat down with the letter in his hand, and closed his eyes to calm himself for a while.

However, soon, he caught a glimpse of many things that did not belong to him on the bedside table besides his hat.

The first thing that caught his attention was a crudely made knife. The blade was short and solid, about ten to twelve centimeters long. The handle made of oak had been used for many years, and the surface was polished smooth and warm to the touch.

Arthur picked up the knife and looked at it for a while, and found that the name of the original owner was engraved on the blade - Giuseppe Garibaldi.

Next to the knife, there was a short note, which was written in Italian with the simple blessing of this optimistic revolutionary to his friend - every inch of steel fights for freedom, the heart of a warrior will never surrender, and I hope you will be equally brave on the road ahead.

Arthur held the note and laughed, "Giuseppe... Since you gave me this knife, I won't stab you with it next time."

Next to the knife, there was a wine-stained letter signed by Shubinsky.

But when he opened the letter, the dense Cyrillic letters on it made Arthur frown.

Although he had been studying Russian very hard, it was like reading a book of heaven to receive such a letter after a hangover.

"Even if he didn't use English, he should at least use French or German..." Arthur muttered softly and put the letter in the small box under the bed.

But before he could lock the box, he heard someone push open the bedroom door.

Fiona's voice sounded from the other end of the room: "Get up so early? I thought you would sleep until the afternoon."

Arthur pushed the small box under the bed. Before he stood up, he felt dizzy again. He had to sit on the bed to relax: "Maybe this is indeed a good idea, if there is no academic committee meeting this afternoon..."

Fiona came forward and put the coat on his shoulders, then sat on his legs naturally, and took out a warm and delicate letter from her arms like a magic trick.

"What is this?" Arthur was not very interested in the letter. He just guessed: "Who left me a farewell letter?"

"Farewell letter? No, dear, this is a welcome letter."

Fiona hugged Arthur's neck excitedly. When she thought about how this man would appear in her northern hometown, Fiona couldn't help but feel proud: "This is what you have been thinking about day and night. It is a letter of appointment from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which was sent from Whitehall where you have asked countless times. Congratulations, dear, you will become a real big shot next year!"

"Big shot..."

Arthur took the letter of appointment and carefully looked at every letter on it.

His Majesty's Government

Foreign Office

London, 25 November 1833

To: Sir Arthur Hastings, Kt

Cultural Counselor to His Majesty's Imperial Court in the Russian Empire

Dear Sir Arthur Hastings,

By the instruction of His Majesty the King, and on the recommendation of the Honourable Council, you are appointed Cultural Counselor to His Majesty's Mission to His Majesty's Imperial Court in the Russian Empire, with effect from 1 February 1834.

Your principal duties will be to promote cultural and intellectual intercourse between Great Britain and the Russian Empire, and to promote the intellectual, artistic and educational endeavours of Great Britain at the Russian Court. You will maintain liaison with local educational institutions, organise cultural events and assist in establishing closer cultural links between the two countries.

In addition, you will advise His Majesty's Government on the cultural situation in Russia, and report to us on the progress of artistic, literary and scientific innovations. You will be charged with maintaining the highest standards of diplomatic decorum through cultural intercourse, and with promoting mutual respect between the two sides.

In view of your strong academic background and outstanding diplomatic skills, the Government is confident that you will be able to take on your new duties and continue to work hard to promote good relations between Britain and Russia. You will report directly to Count Darlamore, His Majesty's Ambassador to the Imperial Court of the Russian Empire, and act in accordance with his instructions.

In view of the nature of the duties you will undertake, you must be informed that in order to devote yourself to your new duties, you will need to resign your current positions as State Representative of the Kingdom of Hanover to the University of Göttingen and Chancellor of the University of Göttingen before you arrive in Russia on February 1, 1834.

We have high hopes for your mission and wish you great success in your new position.

With the highest respect,

Your most loyal supporter,

(Signed)

Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston

Foreign Secretary of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland

On January 1, 1834, the new constitution of the Kingdom of Hanover will be officially promulgated and the farce in Göttingen will come to an end.

One month later, Arthur will immediately take up his new post as Cultural Counselor in Russia.

Such a tight schedule is unlikely to be arranged by Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston. After all, Arthur and him are not related, so he does not need to rush to help Arthur with his career.

The only reasonable explanation is that the Ambassador to Russia, Earl Darramore, wrote a letter to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs for the appointment of his position.

Earl Darramore, like Lord Chief Justice Brougham, is a well-known troublemaker in the Whig Party.

When facing his Foreign Affairs Officers, such as Assistant Under-Secretary August Schneider, Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston can be overbearing and rude, like the strictest supervisor in the mine.

However, he cannot show such an attitude in front of Earl Darramore.

Because just a year ago, Earl Darramore was the most troublesome and radical guy in the Cabinet Committee.

Whether it was Earl Daramore's father-in-law, Prime Minister Earl Grey, or Arthur's old boss, Home Secretary Viscount Melbourne, or even Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston, they all thought that Earl Daramore was a dangerous colleague, and they were worried that his radical views and lack of restraint would cause a big mess in the country.

However, they could not directly force Earl Daramore to resign from the cabinet, because such radical political leaders usually have a large number of loyal supporters. And with Earl Daramore's temper, if the ministers in the cabinet really dared to do so, then Earl Daramore might really dare to leave with his followers in large numbers, thus causing internal divisions in the Whig Party.

Therefore, when Earl Daramore proposed to resign as Lord Chancellor and announced his retirement from the cabinet, the ministers hurriedly approved his resignation and immediately chose a good place for him, putting him in the position of Russian ambassador.

Therefore, as long as Earl Daramore did not cause trouble at home, even if he wanted to recommend a Scottish donkey as the cultural counselor to Russia, the Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston would have to accept it with a pinch of his nose.

Not to mention, compared to the donkey, the York swineherd was not a bad candidate.

At least he has a certain degree of management experience, and has rich experience in culture, art and scientific research. Even if we put aside the relationship with Earl Daramore, Arthur Hastings is in a very advanced position in the competition with other candidates based on his ability and resume.

Therefore, Viscount Palmerston simply went with the flow and did Arthur a favor while coaxing Earl Daramore.

Arthur did not show much enthusiasm for this new opportunity that had just come to him. He only felt relieved.

Although the position of the academic supervisor of the University of Göttingen is equally respected, this position does not belong to the sequence of British affairs officials in the final analysis.

If Earl Daramore had not forgotten this outstanding graduate of the University of London, he might have been forgotten by Whitehall in Hanover and turned into a thorough official of the Kingdom of Hanover.

Although his rank is not low, he does not want to stay here, because he deeply understands that perhaps in a few years, students who graduated from the University of Göttingen will climb over his head one after another.

Who made him have no "von" in his last name?

Let Arthur accept the discipline of Bismarck, a brat?

The York swineherd couldn't stand this kind of treatment.

However, Fiona obviously valued this letter of appointment more than Arthur, and she especially didn't want to leave his side today.

Perhaps because Arthur talked to her about his conversation with Shubinsky on his way home after getting drunk last night, this Russian girl who has lived in London for a long time accidentally learned that the cultural counselor in Russia is equivalent to a fourth-rank civil servant.

Fourth-rank civil servant!

This is a high position that her gambling father dared not even think about!

Perhaps it is difficult for ordinary people to understand why Russian women are as eager about the official rank as Russian men.

But if you look at the relevant clauses of the Russian "Official Rank Table", it is not difficult to understand their feelings.

Because the Official Rank Table clearly stipulates that the status of all officials' wives rises and falls with the official rank of their husbands, the status of the unmarried daughter of a first-rank official is higher than that of the wives of all officials below the fifth rank, the status of the unmarried daughter of a second-rank official is higher than that of the wives of all officials below the sixth rank, and so on, until the status of the unmarried daughter of a tenth-rank official is higher than that of all the wives of officials below the fourteenth rank (the lowest rank).

The Official Rank Table, which was held in the hands of her father and reviewed repeatedly since childhood, seemed to have an extraordinary magic. Everything in Russia depends on the official rank. People don't ask what he knows, what he has done, or what he can do, but what official rank he is. The electric current therapy that gives life to the body and mind, the pursuit of official rank is the only passion of the Russians.

Hearing the news of an official promotion to the first rank is more exciting than drinking a few barrels of vodka, and you can't wait to walk tens of thousands of miles in the snow.

Such feelings made Fiona's official obsession buried in her genes suddenly emerge from somewhere just by hearing the word "fourth-rank civil servant" many years later.

Perhaps she was worried that Arthur would act recklessly in Russia, or that the reckless behavior of the Scotland Yard policeman would anger the unpredictable Tsar, so Fiona felt that she had to give Arthur a basic lesson on Russian culture.

She deliberately picked an interesting topic to arouse Arthur's interest: "Do you know my name?"

"What's your name?" Arthur was stunned by Fiona's question: "Aren't you Fiona? But one of her twin sisters?"

Fiona glared at him unhappily: "I do have a sister, but she died at the age of five. But my problem is not this, can't you think more normally?"

"Fiona Ivan?" Arthur's tone was obviously not very confident. Although he was sure that the answer should be this, the old man deeply understood that women's questions were never that simple: "Is this name fake?"

"No , it's not fake, but it's indeed modified. "

Fiona proudly introduced: "To be precise, my name should be Fiona Ivanovna Fokosova. Among them, Fiona is my first name, Ivanovna is my father's name, which means 'daughter of Ivan', and Fokosova is my surname, which means 'female of the Fokos family'. "

After speaking, Fiona seemed to deliberately test Arthur and asked: "Do you know how to pronounce your name if you were born in Russia?"

This little question certainly didn't stump Arthur. After all, he had studied Russian history. For him, the only difficulty might be the awkward pronunciation of Russian.

While he was thinking, the Red Devil, who had just gotten up, took off his nightcap, yawned, and blurted out: "АртурАгаресовичХастинговов (Artur Agaresovich Hestingov)."

Although Arthur was very dissatisfied with the Red Devil's behavior of adding "Agares" to his father's name without authorization, it must be said that other than that, the Red Devil's answer was impeccable, especially his Russian pronunciation was very standard.

Arthur omitted the father's name part and repeated it imitating Agares' pronunciation.

As expected, Fiona's face showed a surprised expression.

"Yes, Artur Hestingov. It would be more complete if you add your father's name."

Fiona deliberately led the conversation to the "Official Rank List" that made her uneasy: "Then Mr. Hastingoff, you must know that if you were born in Russia, you would be an honorable fourth-rank civil servant now. Even if you are a college student, a talented young man, but you know that in Russia, even if you are a first-class graduate of a university, even if you can be promoted every time, to reach such a position, to become a fourth-rank special civil servant, how many years do you need at least?"

"How many years?"

Fiona kissed him happily, put her arms around his neck and said: "Dear, that's a full twenty years!"