Four Hundred and Thirty Second Past Events in Westminster

There are rarely sunny days in England in April.

Today is sunny and everything is sprouting. On the lush pastures of Windsor Castle in Berkshire, King George III smiled and sat under a parasol, watching his beloved son Frederick galloping on a horse in the distance.

"Sophie, our little Frederick has grown up, and he rides and runs just as I did when I was young, but let the rein go, and I'm sure I can't keep up with him."

Queen Charlotte glanced at her husband angrily, and continued to lower her head to pat Princess Amelia's hiccups, one by one, delicate and gentle.

"This is as it should be, my esteemed majesty."

Her English, with a thick regional German accent, was hard and brittle, and a little slurred.

"You are not old, he has grown up, you insist on riding a horse for hunting, but he is a real soldier."

"He is already a major in the army, and then he will be a lieutenant colonel, a colonel, and he will soon become an excellent general."

"Steams are good companions for generals. If my child is no better than a fat amateur hunter in horsemanship, as a mother, how can I safely let him go on the battlefield?"

"Physical gain is inevitable..."

The good-tempered King George III subconsciously touched his swollen belly, then glanced awkwardly at the guests around him, and knowingly decided to change the subject without any argument.

He picked up a document from the table and handed it to Queen Charlotte: "Sophie, take a look at this."

"What's this?"

The queen saw the brightly colored seal at the top of the document, which symbolized the level of confidentiality, and immediately retracted her outstretched hand.

"As curious as I am, Your Majesty, good women shouldn't get involved in politics, and I'm about to teach Amelia that."

"Amelia is only a year and a half..."

"She is the daughter of the most honorable person in the world, so she should learn it earlier than ordinary women."

"Okay." George III shrugged indifferently, "My wife is adhering to the right, and I have no reason to object. But this document from Africa is not all political, at least in terms of its nature, it has nothing to do with the royal family. The relationship is actually closer than the country."

"From Africa... Mr. Willow Baker?"

George III laughed heartily.

He winked at the guests beside him: "Look, Sir Drake, I said earlier that the queen would not read confidential documents, and even if she didn't read them, she could easily guess the contents."

"God bless England."

Shaq put down his teacup, took out a gold pound from his pocket with no expression on his face, and handed it to George III with both hands, and said compliments in an unwavering voice.

"Because England has such a wise highness, I am willing to gamble and lose."

Queen Charlotte was confused: "Your Majesty, what are you and Sir Drake?"

"A small bet that is beneficial to the body and mind." George III blew the gold pound, and listened to the unique sound of the precious metal with satisfaction. "Mr. Drake, briefly talk to the queen about the contents of the document."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Shaq cleared his throat and sat upright. "The manager of the Royal African Company, Willow Baker, reported to Buckingham Palace and sent a copy to the Admiralty. On March 25, 1785, the Anglo-Malaysian Friendship and Trade Agreement was concluded after seven rounds of negotiations. On March 28, the two parties formally signed the contract in Muscat, the capital of the Muscat Sultanate.

Rear Admiral Cornwallis, Deputy Admiral of the Royal Navy's African Fleet, and Manager Baker signed the original on behalf of Great Britain and the royal family. There are two core contents. "

"One, Great Britain assisted the Sultanate in building the two piers of Sohar and Matra, and presided over taxation, customs, judicial and defense matters for the next 68 years."

"British law will be adopted in the two wharf areas from now on. The parade court will be formed by British gentlemen. The customs and taxation departments will be presided over by the UK. The garrison at the wharf should not be larger than 154 ships. There will be 480 marines in four companies. The cost of the garrison and the construction of the wharf are all Deduct from customs duties, the maximum deduction amount is not more than 50% per year."

"Second, Great Britain leases Mahirah Island in the Sultanate for a period of 99 years, with an annual rent of £12 per square mile, calculated at £3,000, and Great Britain has the right to renew the lease once unconditionally for a period of 99 years."

Queen Charlotte opened her mouth wide in shock: "The Muscat Sultanate, that is..."

"That's a country that was established last year by the Omanis in West Asia, Sophie, and their land area is about twice the size of the British Isles, maybe a bit larger." George III added, "And you know, the Omanis have excellent seamanship, the Sultanate has the most powerful navy and the best admiral in the Arab world...at least it used to be."

"what about now?"

"The admiral is still there now, but there is no fleet for him to command anymore."

Amazing news.

Queen Charlotte blinked her eyes a few times: "Your Majesty, I will not question the authenticity of this document. But have you ever thought about it, if there is really a country established by the Omanis, how could Mr. Send the papers to England?"

"It's nothing strange, he borrowed the communication channel of the Drake Chamber of Commerce." George III smiled strangely, "From Muscat to the Red Sea, landed in Egypt, and then crossed the Mediterranean from Alexandria to Toulon , and then cross France, and send the letter to Plymouth through the strait, and the whole journey will be fast and fast, and the longest will not exceed ten days."

"I seem to have heard a strange top chaebol." The queen whispered secretly, "Your Majesty, you said that the chamber of commerce is called Drake?"

George III glanced at Shaq inexplicably, and Shaq immediately sat upright: "It has nothing to do with Tavistock, Your Majesty."

"I know that neither the war nor the Chamber of Commerce has anything to do with Baron Tavistock's family..." George III shook his head and flipped through another document on the table, "Mr. Drake, your younger brother is very capable."

Shaq pursed his lips and did not speak. Queen Charlotte's eyes wandered among the pair of monarchs and ministers, and suddenly she smelled a strong fragrance called "Gossip".

"I want to know, Your Majesty," she said with a smile.

George III sorted out his vocabulary in his mind: "Does Sophie still remember that little follower of Alia? Sixteen years ago, we went to Westminster to baptize Sophia..."

"It's the pagan little stubborn Drake family!" Queen Charlotte said enthusiastically, "I remember his name is... Lorraine, Lorraine Drake! I clearly remember that little guy, he was a A born star."

This time, the doubtful emotion turned to Shaq: "Sorry, Your Highness, in my impression, you and Your Majesty seem to have never met my pagan brother..."

"I have seen it, although it is not formal." George III said with a smile, "Princess Sophia was born sixteen years ago. We took her to Westminster Abbey and asked Archbishop Perrick to baptize her. It was raining that day, The archbishop was wrestling with a child in the backyard when we arrived."

"Scramble?!" Shaq's eyes widened.

"Isn't it an unforgettable scene?" The queen also laughed, "Your father was summoned by His Majesty to witness Sophia's baptism. Although your younger brother is a pagan, he really wants to know how the baby chooses his son Faith, so I followed."

"As a result, your younger brother overturned the holy water prepared by the archbishop for Sofia and poured it all on himself. The archbishop thought it was God's will and decided to break his oath and become your brother's godfather, but your brother refused. "

"I have never seen a dignified and tolerant archbishop grabbing a child by the ear to force him to convert, and I have never seen a child dare to pull the archbishop's red coat to wipe his nose... But your majesty is right, they were indeed scuffling at that time. Together, and fought hard."

Shaq's lips trembled a little: "How... how did it happen?"

"Unfortunately, Your Majesty and I still don't know how the matter developed to this point." Queen Charlotte was really sorry, she sighed and said, "The two parties involved, your father and the archbishop, are very concerned about the process of the matter. Keep your mouth shut, your brother is a clever little ghost who broke free from the archbishop's grasp when we appeared, and fled over the wall."