What Is A Legacy?

Chapter Twelve

Leon threw his arms up in frustration, and Thomas stared at him from his chair with a steady gaze. Washington's latest letter was not pleasing to the ambassador, and Thomas was sorry to hear that nothing was changing. France had been trying to negotiate with America for the past two months now, maybe two and half. He could never seem to keep track of the days here now; they all bled into one another.

Washington had been of very little help, but he couldn't fault the man for that. Jefferson knew that he himself was of very little help to Washington, despite him fighting tooth and nail for every word and suggestion he was able to give. He knew the President himself was working just as hard to back Thomas up, but he had a whole cabinet behind him whereas Thomas had only himself.

And, technically, Lafayette.

The ambassador snapped at Josue, who shook his head. "Ils ne bougeront pas." They won't budge. Thomas just rolled his eyes. Hypocrite.

Josue leaned in close to the ambassador. "Qu'est-ce que tu attendais d'autre ?" What else did you expect?

Leon sighed, but it sounded like a growl. He turned on Thomas. "Votre précieux Président n'est d'aucune aide, et vous non plus." Your precious President is of no help, and neither are you.

Thomas shrugged. Leon wasn't exactly wrong, but he wasn't making matters any easier for either of them.

"Peut-être que si vous étiez prêt à faire des compromis avec l'Amérique, nous serions quelque part," Thomas said back. Maybe if you were willing to compromise with America, we would get somewhere.

Leon scoffed, leaning forward with his hands on his desk. It was meant to be intimidating, and to anyone who hadn't dealt with Leon for two months, it would have been. But the ambassador had used the same move on Thomas so many times it wasn't frightening anymore. "Nous arriverons quelque part une fois que Washington aura accepté nos conditions." We'll get somewhere once Washington agrees to accept our terms.

"You mean the terms where you demand our financial aid to further fund your revolution?" Thomas was at a point in the meeting where he couldn't be bothered to speak in French now. "I have already told you, as has Washington, that we are not in a position to offer money or troops." It took all of his self-composure to not snap at the ambassador.

Lafayette gave him a disapproving look from the corner of the room, but Thomas shrugged. He'd gotten the same expression from Laf the nine out of ten times he'd opened his mouth, and he was done. He was tired, frustrated, hungry, and the lack of progress at these meetings wasn't helping any. Josue was rereading Washington's newest letter for perhaps the sixth time since it had been handed off to him, as if he was searching for a compromise that wasn't there. The general was gradually becoming more and more irritable at every meeting, but today, he was silent and barely spoke.

Thomas couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

Leon began to speak, throwing out an arm towards Thomas. "If Washington won't offer any financial help himself, then we'll have to consider an alternative solution," he said. Thomas frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Leon didn't answer, and leaned over to the general. The two spoke quickly, and while they conferred, Thomas looked over at Lafayette again. The Frenchman looked confused, which was a normal expression to have in these meetings, but Thomas could sense something else was going on.

He repeated his question. "What do you mean?"

Leon nodded at both Thomas and Lafayette. "The two of you are excused." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the two men. And that was it.