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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 · Livros e literatura
Classificações insuficientes
96 Chs

Chapter 35: Under the City of Amsterdam

Chapter 35: Under the City of Amsterdam

On the Champs-Élysées, about 600 meters from the Tuileries Palace and with a view of the Louvre to the south, Joseph stood before a jewelry store with a storefront nearly twenty meters wide. The Nagelt Jewelry Store sign still hung above the entrance, although the door was only half-open.

According to the information Emon had gathered, the shop's owner had married a Spaniard and was planning to sell the property to move to Spain.

Joseph entered the shop for a closer look. The building was relatively new, with two floors, each spanning over 500 square meters. The solid oak floors and brass-trimmed corners and stair railings gave the place a refined and understated elegance.

Wasting no time, Joseph quickly reached an agreement with the owner's representative, purchasing the store for 36,000 livres. This price was quite reasonable for a prime location in one of Paris's busiest commercial districts.

While Emon handled the transaction details, Joseph surveyed the space and spoke to the architect who had accompanied him, "Mr. Archid, I need you to help make some adjustments to this shop."

Yes, the Prince's entourage included a personal architect who typically had little to do, but today, his services were finally needed.

"At your service, Your Highness," the architect replied.

Joseph pointed to the wall facing the street. "Replace these walls with glass—large panes, as big as possible—so that passersby can see right into the store from the street."

He continued, "All these wooden display cases need to be replaced with glass showcases about a meter high. We'll display the products directly on them, so customers can touch and see them up close. The lighting also needs to be changed—install crystal chandeliers like the ones in my reception room. I want every corner of the store to be brightly lit. Paint the exterior in a fresh, soft color..."

Archid scribbled notes furiously until Joseph turned to him and asked, "So, how long will it take to make these changes, and how much will it cost?"

The architect flipped through his notes, hesitating. "It should take about half a month and cost around 3,000 livres."

Joseph nodded. "I'll give you 5,000 livres if you finish in a week. Can you do it?"

"Yes, Your Highness, I'll do everything in my power to complete it on time," Archid replied, his mind racing. He added cautiously, "Pardon me for saying this, but 'Angel Water' would sell out even if it were displayed in a market stall on Pont Neuf. This shop is already quite nice—why spend so much on renovations?"

Joseph smiled. "Because, aside from 'Angel Water,' this store itself is a product."

The architect was taken aback. "Are you planning to sell the shop?"

"No," Joseph explained. "But think of the shop as a showcase—it's an example of the product itself."

In Holland:

Four kilometers south of Amsterdam, in a military camp, an older man with graying hair and a slightly crooked chin frowned as he studied the map. After a long pause, he finally spoke, "I believe we should abandon Amstelveen and fall back to positions south of Amsterdam, using the river to block the enemy..."

A middle-aged man in a dark white uniform immediately cut him off, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Colonel Wolster, my men and I didn't come all the way to Holland to watch your troops practice the 'avoid the enemy' tactic."

Wolster, who was usually in command of the Dutch army, didn't dare show his anger towards the French officer, who was only a captain. Instead, he sternly replied, "Captain Dubois, the Prussian vanguard is only 15 kilometers from Amstelveen, and the town has no fortifications. Do you want us to wait here and die?"

Amstelveen was the southern neighbor of Amsterdam. Losing it would leave Amsterdam completely exposed to the Prussians.

Dubois continued to mock, "Fortifications? Your forces couldn't hold the well-fortified Utrecht, so even if Amstelveen had ten forts, I doubt it would make much difference."

Wolster's face turned red with frustration. "Arguing won't help. The most important thing now is to decide how to confront the enemy!"

"Attack!" Dubois declared loudly. "French soldiers always crush the enemy with offensive maneuvers!"

A nearby Dutch officer interjected, "Captain Dubois, even with the conscripts, we only have about 9,000 men, while the Prussians have over 20,000. Attacking them would be suicidal."

Dubois smiled. "The 20,000 includes the entire Prussian force. Their vanguard won't be that large. More importantly, thanks to your rapid retreat, the Prussians have pursued you for over ten days, and with the dense Dutch waterways, their artillery likely hasn't kept pace with their vanguard."

"But we have a dozen cannons at our disposal!"

Wolster stared wide-eyed at Dubois. "You're really planning to attack the Prussians?!"

"Why not?" Dubois stared back at him. "The Prussians won't expect a sudden counterattack from the retreating Dutch forces, so they'll be unprepared. That's our opportunity."

Wolster, uneasy under Dubois' intense gaze, looked down. "Even if your soldiers are brave and armed with cannons, such a reckless assault…"

Dubois interrupted again, "No, not my soldiers—yours."

"M-My men? But that's…"

Dubois cut him off once more, "Yes, your men, and you'll use new recruits to attack the Prussian vanguard. Have them feign retreat—oh, I'm sure they'll genuinely retreat. Meanwhile, my forces and your main troops will wait in the narrow area between the Vecht River and Abcoude Lake for the Prussians to advance. My cannons will be positioned there."

Several Dutch officers perked up at the idea, already envisioning the Prussian forces being ambushed and fleeing in panic. After being beaten back repeatedly by the Prussians since they intervened in the Netherlands, they were desperate for a victory.

Wolster, however, shook his head. "Even if we defeat the Prussian vanguard, their main force will soon arrive. We won't be able to hold out. The States-General ordered me to hold out for five days."

Dubois corrected him, "Before holding out for five days, you'll need to win a victory against the Prussian advance. Otherwise, you could retreat all the way to Hoorn and 'hold out' for more than a week."

He then turned to a young officer with curly hair and a nose as sharp as a blade, who stood at attention nearby. "Andre," he said, "how long until the Prussian main force reaches Amsterdam?"

The young officer, standing tall, replied, "Sir, if left unchecked, they could reach Amstelveen by nightfall tomorrow. But if we disrupt their supply lines, it will delay them significantly."

"Good," Dubois nodded approvingly. "Then that's your mission."

"Yes, sir!"

Wolster was shocked. "Lieutenant Davout only has about 60 cavalrymen. How can he possibly raid the Prussian supply lines?"

"Not just 60 men," Dubois said with a smile, shaking his head. "He'll also have your 650 cavalrymen."

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