The "Freezer" Worth One Hundred Million Francs

Saint Petersburg, the Winter Palace.

Russia had not yet become the desperate Tsardom that would emerge after its defeat in the Crimean War. Nicholas I had an almost blind confidence in his country and its army.

The fact that he hadn't beaten Prime Minister Ilarion to death just now was already a sign of regard for the man, who had worked hard even if he'd achieved little.

Though Nicholas I was furious and wanted nothing more than to punch Louis Philippe's pear-shaped head clean off, the rebellion in the Caucasus had become a thorn in his side.

If he couldn't resolve the problem of the Imamate of the Caucasus as soon as possible, Russia would be seen as a paper tiger that only knew how to bluff. Then everyone would want to tear a piece off it.

Still, to the Tsar, ten million francs was far too little, no matter how he looked at it.

Just then, Prime Minister Ilarion got back to his feet. He carelessly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said,

"Please leave this matter to me. Even if it costs me my life, I'll negotiate a price that satisfies Your Majesty."

The Tsar looked at the old prime minister, who was still putting on a brave front, and felt somewhat moved. He said,

"Ilarion, I'm giving you one more chance. Don't disappoint me again. Remember! Our sacred lands must never be sold off cheaply!

"If the French offer less than one hundred million francs, there will be no deal."

Prime Minister Ilarion's heart lurched at this, but things had come this far. He could only grit his teeth and press on.

Tsar Nicholas I hated nothing more than people who went back on their word or feared death. If Ilarion backed down