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I am the Crown Prince of France

I have been reborn in France, and luckily, I have the identity of the Crown Prince. The downside is that the current king is Louis XVI, and in two years, he will be guillotined. Since my father and the ministers can’t be trusted, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and reorganize France myself. First, I’ll make some money, just enough to solve the financial crisis that has plagued the country for centuries. Then, I’ll strike hard at the nobles with ill intentions who seek to usurp power. After that, I’ll seize the vast lands held by the church, which sits idle. Industry, technology, agriculture, and commerce will thrive together. I will be the greatest Crown Prince France has ever seen! If you like the novel you can read advance chapters on my patreon or you can buy the advance of the first 100 chapters in the store.

Johanssen10 · Livres et littérature
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132 Chs

Chapter 130: A Date with the Princess

Chapter 130: A Date with the Princess

Suddenly, from the marble plaza in front of Versailles Palace, came the angry voice of a young girl:

"The French Guards couldn't even stop two bandits—they must be punished!"

The noble girls in the hallway overheard and immediately agreed:

"Yes! It's because of them that the Prince was injured!"

"I heard Bessonval's poor planning allowed the bandits to sneak in."

"I wonder how badly the Prince is hurt and when he'll recover..."

Hearing the loud complaints outside, Joseph's eyes lit up. He quickly whispered to Aymond, asking him to thank the young noblewoman for speaking out on his behalf.

Before long, news spread among the girls that Mademoiselle Andréeane had received the Prince's gratitude for her criticism of the French Guards. This inspired even more girls to join in the chorus of condemnation.

By noon, two or three hundred young ladies had gathered outside the War Minister's office, loudly demanding harsh punishment for the French Guards. Soon, they had pulled in their brothers or male friends, further swelling their ranks.

At that time, Dr. Lamarck and his daughter were visiting the Prince at his bedside.

"The Prince's condition seems to have stabilized," Pernelle said, finishing her examination and breathing a sigh of relief.

Lamarck nodded, giving Joseph some advice on how to take care of himself. Just then, the voice of the herald came through:

"Princess Maria has arrived—"

He quickly pulled his daughter back, retreating to join the crowd of observing nobles.

The Two Sicilies princess entered, her eyes red from crying.

Pernelle, standing beside her father, shot her a harsh glare, thinking to herself: If she hadn't insisted on this trip, the bandits wouldn't have had the opportunity. Fortunately, the Prince was under God's protection and wasn't too badly hurt.

She didn't realize that much of her anger stemmed from having to yield her place to this young girl. Or from the fact that this girl, with a smaller chest, might one day become the Princess Consort, while she would have to quietly care for his health from the sidelines...

Seeing Maria's tear-streaked eyes, Joseph felt a surge of guilt—his plan to bring down Bessonval had frightened her unnecessarily.

Maria curtsied gracefully and asked softly, "Your Highness, how are you feeling?"

Joseph smiled and nodded. "I'm much better, thank you for visiting me. Please, have a seat."

Maria kept her head down, struggling to say, "Your Highness, you were injured because you came to greet me, and—"

Joseph quickly waved his hand. "No, no, this isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself."

Maria felt a warmth in her heart—she had braced herself for reproach but was instead met with kindness. Tears welled up again. "I—I'm so sorry, Your Highness…"

"Hey, hey, don't cry! I'm really okay!"

Comforting a crying girl was not Joseph's strong suit. He pinched the bridge of his nose, at a loss for words, when he noticed the nobles around them suddenly stepping aside and bowing. A moment later, Queen Marie, dressed in a pink and white gown, with her hair undone, hurried in, anxiously waving her hands:

"Oh! My God! Why are you sitting up? You should be lying down! The doctors said you need rest!"

Joseph smiled and bowed slightly. "Mother, I'm much better, really."

The Queen had the servants lay out an assortment of sweets she had brought and began fussing over her son. Then, she noticed Princess Maria, and her expression darkened.

She had always believed her niece was the perfect match for her son, and she saw this princess from the Two Sicilies as an unwelcome distraction. The fact that her son was injured because of Maria only deepened her resentment.

Maria noticed the Queen's gaze and quickly wiped her tears, stepping forward to curtsy.

But the Queen turned her head away and spoke to Countess de Bernynac:

"Please see that anyone unnecessary leaves. The Prince needs to rest."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The Countess immediately began clearing the room. Maria bit her lip, stepped back, curtsied again, and then left with her maid.

Seeing Maria's downcast expression, Joseph guessed that the Queen had taken out her anger on her. Feeling even more guilty, he quickly called after her:

"Princess Maria, I'm sorry that this has affected your visit. Once I'm better, please allow me to be your guide and show you around Paris."

Maria stopped in her tracks, turning sharply. The dull look in her eyes brightened, and she thought, He does like... or at least, he doesn't have a bad impression of me! That's enough!

She immediately turned fully, lifting her skirt to curtsy again, and smiled:

"Thank you for your invitation, Your Highness. I will pray for your swift recovery every day."

Pernelle felt a sudden pang of jealousy. She had known the Prince for so long, yet he had never invited her to visit anywhere...

She shook her head, scolding herself: Pernelle! What are you thinking? Being able to see the Prince regularly and care for his health is already a great privilege. How could you expect anything more?

Four days later, at the French Guards' camp.

A gendarme officer handed a stack of documents to the Justice Minister, speaking politely:

"Baron Breteuil, it seems these few individuals have passed the review."

The Baron nodded, signed the documents, and pressed his ring seal onto them.

The other gendarme officer, older and with a heavily powdered face, took the papers and smiled. "I'll apply to restore their positions with the Marquis de Saint-Priest, along with Colonel Aubin and the others we cleared the day before."

Breteuil and Viscount Vémerelle exchanged a glance and nodded. "Very well, General Astou. I'll report the situation here to the Queen."

Just as General Astou was about to hand the documents to his scribe, Breteuil's assistant hurried over, whispered something to the Justice Minister, and handed him another stack of papers.

Frowning, Breteuil flipped through the pages, then pushed them towards Astou. He cleared his throat and said, "General, it seems we can't end the review of these individuals just yet."

Astou looked puzzled as he glanced at the documents, finding on the first page a report accusing Colonel Paul Bertrand de Aubin of embezzling funds for military uniforms three years ago. The next page held an accusation against another officer for injuring a soldier two years ago.

Page after page, there were accusations against all the officers they had previously cleared.

Astou's face darkened as he turned to Breteuil. "Where did this come from?"

"I don't know. Someone delivered them to my assistant this morning. But we can't just ignore these accusations."

Meanwhile, in a small office in Paris, the newly appointed head of the Public Inquiry Department's Second Action Team, Monsieur Desmoulins, watched as Monsieur Marat wrote furiously, hesitating before speaking:

"M-Monsieur Marat, the things y-you're writing, t-there's no evidence for them… Isn't it b-bad to submit such reports?"

(End of Chapter)

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