Let me introduce you, this is my girlfriend, the Israeli boxing champion

After all, there are not many such professional maids in France.

"Ma'am, it's time to get up."

"Well......"

Even though her tired body indicated that she wanted to stay in bed a little longer, after all, she only had three hours left before falling asleep, but she still forced herself to climb out of the soft velvet.

Her long hair cascaded down like a black waterfall, and she was wearing a sleeveless silk dress. From her shoulders to her waist, small flowers of the same color and texture as the dress were dotted here and there, like young daisies that had just bloomed. They covered the wide bed sheets and also revealed her white jade chest and tender lotus-like arms.

"What time is it, Margaret?"

"It's eight o'clock in the morning, ma'am. There are still eight and eleven hours until the banquet and salon start. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well... fill the bathroom with water first... wait until I finish my shower... and then I'll talk about it..."

After Margaret went to drain the water, she sat on the bed for a long time and refused to get up until she received the news that she came to report.

"Ma'am, it's full, so I'll go and do the preparations."

"Well, let's go."

When Margaret had closed the door and gone about her business, she, Mary Jane Rowland, lay down again.

"Really? I have to change the sheets again today."

Cicadas are chirping outside the window, and the person inside is soaking in the bathtub. The bathroom is large, with a faint scent of ocean bath salts wafting in the air. The mist quickly covers the entire mirror and the translucent floor-to-ceiling window facing the bedroom.

When the cool liquid flowed on her cold skin, her usually tense heartstrings relaxed a little. After all, she had to face business competitors, mediate the relationship between the two faction leaders, Lafayette and Robespierre, and repair the world with those "resurrected" celebrities, although these people were easier to talk to.

"Singularity... Restoration of Humanity... Heroic Spirits... Holy Grail War, it sounds very interesting."

She once doubted the authenticity of these masters who had a prominent reputation in the past, but in the end they proved themselves with their rich experience and knowledge. The Roland family now holds an important position in industry and commerce, and it is with their help that the family has a strong position in industry and commerce.

"The last Master of mankind from the future?"

"I hope it can arouse my interest a little."

She stood up from the marble bathtub. The unwiped water droplets had a slight luster, and her body was white and healthy. After draining the water, she walked out wrapped in a bath towel and stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom.

She let go of her hands and the towel slowly slipped off her shoulders. She looked at the naked woman in the mirror, so wet and so clean.

If the body of a twenty-year-old is a juicy fruit, then the body of a thirty-year-old is a rich and mellow red wine.

That's right, Mary Jane Rowland, the daughter of a sculptor and one of the few talented women in Europe at the time, was already in her thirties.

When she picked up the bath towel that had fallen on the ground and wrapped herself up, the head maid Margaret happened to open the door.

"lady."

"Come on, Margaret, keep it simple now."

"Yes, ma'am."

She sat in front of the dressing table, waiting for Margaret to do some minor work on her face. As the maid designated by her since she came to this family, it has been 13 years now. She has personally watched her grow from a fourteen-year-old child to the almost perfect head maid she is today, one of the few top maids in Paris, and on par with those in the Palace of Versailles.

"Margaret, I have a question for you."

"Please, ma'am."

"If there are two paths in front of you, one is to continue to be the head maid, and the other is to meet your sweetheart, which one will you take?"

"Madam, you are asking this question again." Margaret opened the box of powder and dotted it on her face. "Let me think how many times has this happened... the 32nd time this month?"

"It was destined from the moment my wife took me out of the slums that year."

At two o'clock in the afternoon, an old gentleman came here, but compared with "come", "return" should be more appropriate.

"I'm back, ma'am." It seemed like the words from someone who could be her father were shocking, but it was an established fact.

"Welcome back. Go change your clothes first. We have something important to do tonight." Just as she was about to take off Roland's long-sleeved jacket, he refused.

"Don't bother with this little thing. I'll go up first."

As he walked up the stairs with his back to her, she sniffed her fingers gently.

That's the smell of rose essence.

Would you rather go out than stay at home?

I really found a father, but he was drunk on the wedding night.

It would be great if there is someone who can help me.

Perhaps it was due to the effect of her prayers that she met that person tonight.

The man from the future as described by Voltaire.

PS1: I hope NHK can come up with some good news.

PS2: I suddenly realized that I have a lot of experience in writing about this.

PS3: Motor Duck (×) Demon God Souji (×)

PS4: Continue tonight (?)

Chapter 21 You from Chaldea (Part )

Maybe this is the final fate of those talented women.

For example, the former musical prodigy, Mozart's sister, Maria Anna Mozart, was locked out of the door of music when she was eighteen years old, ending her glorious musical career in a very dramatic way.

A few years later, upon learning the truth, Wolfgang deliberately suspended his performances and studies in Italy and returned to his hometown of Salzburg.

"Why? Why should I change my sister's fate? Why should I let my sister stay in Salzburg alone? Why can't she develop her own career outside like me?"

"Amadeus, are you dissatisfied?"

"Yes! She can become a musician like me. She can compose music. She has the ability. Tell me why, Prince Leopold!"

"Because Nanel is a girl."

This story has never been verified, and many people have always believed that this was a message made up by the archbishop to attack Mozart. After all, the conflict between the two was well known in Europe.

Madame Roland thought so too until she met a man at the concert.

"Those guys are right. This thing is true, but they just don't believe it." At a concert a few days ago, the Italian who was the finale performer spoke the truth.

"Amadeus said goodbye to me in a hurry and returned to his hometown. I still remember his expression when he came back a week later."

"He doesn't really drink, but he insisted on taking me out to drink that day. I thought something was wrong with him, so I went to the bar with him."

"He loves his sister very much, there is no doubt about that. That day was the first time I saw him lose his temper like that. He usually doesn't drink at all, but the amount of alcohol he drank that day was enough to match the amount he drank in the previous 17 years of his life."

"At the end of that year, he returned to his hometown of Salzburg. When I saw him again four years later when I went to Vienna to serve as the Habsburg court music director, he had changed."

Compared with this, she felt how lucky she was. At least until now she could still use her talents and had the help of the masters, although she didn't know why they chose her.

It hadn't been long since the two of them had been madly butting heads in the newspapers, but now they were standing on the same front for the same goal - even though they still disliked each other.

In a way, Mr. Charlie has had a hard time.

She sank her body into the bathtub filled with water. As for this traditional art which started from the ancient Roman times, she was puzzled as to why those people in the Middle Ages banned such a relaxing activity.

"It's really ridiculous. I now believe that the times are going backwards."

Mary's face, which had not seen the sun for a long time, was slightly dizzy as it was steamed by the heat. Her tired limbs felt particularly comfortable in the hot water. She rested her arms on the marble, resting her chin on her head and almost fell asleep.

"Madam, there are guests visiting downstairs."

"Which one is it?"

"He said he was from Frankfurt."

Frankfurt? And it's someone I know? If I search according to Margaret's keywords...

She already had the answer in her mind.

"I see, Margaret. Please tell him that I am taking a shower now and ask him to wait for 10 minutes. By the way, he is now one of the most important people tonight."

"I understand, ma'am."

Plans are far behind the changes. Mary was a little helpless. She got up from the hot water that was gradually getting colder. She had the scent of truffles on her body after taking a shower, and her skin was white and rosy, with real red lips and white teeth.

"My guess was right, Mr. John. If you are not traveling and collecting folk songs in Naples at this time, then you should be on your way back to Weimar?" Mary came down in an ordinary dress and looked at Goethe who was tasting black tea.

"That's what I did originally, but..." He took out his glasses from his chest pocket and put them on, then took out a stack of newspapers from his luggage.

"Thanks to this news, I changed my schedule." He pointed to the space that took up less than one-sixth of the page.

"He has a very clear attitude, but he doesn't say anything final, leaving people at a loss as to where to start. This style reminds me of that person."

"I disagree with your point of view, Mr. John, but I will respect your right to speak."

"The article is signed by François Arouet. Although this name is not that common, I still have some impression of it. And if nothing unexpected happens, Mr. Jacques will have his opinion tomorrow."

"What else can I say, Mr. Goethe?" He was not surprised at all that he guessed Voltaire's identity. Maybe he was just an old friend.

Then tonight is destined to be a restless night. There are visitors from the Knights Templar, old friends who have been reunited after a long absence, a gathering of the leaders of the three factions, and guests from the future.

As the sun sets, most people will end their day's work and enjoy the fruits of their labor, but for some people, the game has just begun.

"Hello, ma'am." The Italian pianist who accepted the invitation was the first to arrive. He would play his own works here, and it would take a long time, but the remuneration would be generous.

"Hello, Mr. Antonio, how about it?" Mary took the Italian to the piano she played every day. "Although it is not as good as those provided by the royal family, it is not much worse."

"Thank you, ma'am." He bowed slightly to show his understanding. But when he was about to practice beforehand, he was stopped.

"Oh, Salieri, why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Naples or Vienna?"

"I found Ludwig in Bonn a few years ago. I came to France this time to see if I could find a child like him."

"Ludwig van Beethoven? That kid's fame has spread from Westfalen to Weimar. But then again, there aren't many people who can be recognized by Mozart as having achievements equal to his."

As mentioned earlier, this is a story of old friends, and the long-awaited reunion of Goethe and Salieri is just a small microcosm of it.

"Charlie! Let me go! I'm going to tear the mouth of this foul-mouthed guy apart!"

"What's wrong, Mr. Jacques? I just told Ms. Roland the story of the unlucky guy who was hit by a carriage. Is it necessary to be so excited?"

As expected, as soon as Voltaire arrived here, he started a passionate laning confrontation, and our Mr. Baron could only hold them back and not let them get so excited.

How have you been doing since I left... He looked at these two guys who kicked away the master's demeanor in front of so many distinguished guests, and suddenly felt tired.

But the hostess of the party became interested in someone.

"What is it, ma'am?"

PS1: With the Kyoto incident, the HomeLive scandal, and the BML scandal, things have been really unsettled lately.

PS2: I don’t understand what ZIO is doing now, let’s take a look at the anti-masturbation pills on 9.1.

PS3: Madame Roland’s Baidu Encyclopedia is simply the plot of a novel.

Chapter 22: Just a Policeman from Crossbell

"Sir, can you tell me in detail?" A mature woman's voice came from behind Alvin, who seemed to be dissatisfied with his remarks about the garden.

Trouble comes from the mouth.

"What is it, ma'am?"

When Alvin organized his words, the other party had already walked to the window sill, looking at the road he had come from and the brightly lit Paris city in the distance.

"Nothing, I just heard some different opinions and wanted to share them. But from what you said, sir, you must have been to many places."

She was very envious of this. Since she was born, the farthest place she has been to is only Bordeaux, which is very close to the Atlantic Ocean, but she has no time to see the sea. As for the reason, it is better not to say.

"Ah, yes, I have been to most places in Europe. Of course, I have also been to Egypt and many places in Asia. I have been to many places and seen a lot, so I subconsciously said some things that represent my personal opinions."

Of course, this is just a conservative statement. If we put it in a broader sense, doing the splits on Hyperion, touching donkey ears on Terra, playing with batons, and riding a Fengma bicycle around the world are all worth writing about.

"I think it's okay. No one will pay attention to this place anyway. Let's keep this conversation a secret between us. After all..." She looked back at the crowd, and there was no sign of the teacher from the University of Paris among them.

"Then, let's start the experiment."

Based on my understanding of Western gardening techniques, I seem to be criticizing this stereotyped design style, but what I actually mean is four words:

Bourbon Pills.

Originally, this kind of conversation was similar to that of middle-aged and elderly people discussing state affairs after dinner, but unexpectedly, it actually had an effect on them.

"Their influence is fully demonstrated in the garden. Rational and worldly, they ponder balance, proportion and rhythm on the flat terraces. The mechanical elements are arranged in sequence on the central axis, the trees are planted in regular rows to form a boulevard, and the walls are made of neatly trimmed hedges. Everything is neatly trimmed."

Up until this point, the conversation had been moving in a very healthy, normal direction, until the next sentence.