The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 194

Chapter 194: Europa Universalis III

The Crown Prince of Spain was enthusiastically tinkering with Louis XVI’s gear machine when he turned and called out to Joseph:

"Look at this! The precision of this blade angle is simply ingenious..."

However, he noticed that Joseph was slumped over a workbench nearby and did not respond.

Antonio approached and shook Joseph slightly:
“Your Highness, have you fallen asleep?”

Joseph half-opened his eyes, raised his head, and rubbed his temples vigorously as he said, “Oh, I shouldn’t have drunk so much wine at the banquet earlier... This year’s Bordeaux vintage was unexpectedly exquisite, but now I’ve got a bit of a headache...”

In truth, he had not drunk too much; he was merely playing along with the “script.”

Antonio nodded in agreement. “Yes, the wine was indeed exceptional tonight. I had quite a bit myself. Shall I escort you back to rest?”

“Oh, thank you so much...”

Eymond observed this, discreetly signaling to the servant stationed at the door, who immediately stepped out and conveyed the "go-ahead" to the pre-positioned agents of the intelligence bureau.

Before long, the two men Godoy had sent to monitor the Crown Prince of Spain found themselves in “incidents.”

One was accosted by two “voluptuous” noblewomen, who began quarreling over him, escalating into a physical altercation. The eventual victor giggled as she dragged him into a nearby lounge. The other unwittingly bumped into a maid carrying a tea tray, causing an invaluable set of Oriental porcelain to shatter. The furious maid insisted on taking him to the chief steward of the royal household.

Meanwhile, the “inebriated” Joseph draped his arm over the Crown Prince of Spain’s shoulder and staggered out of the royal workshop.

Catching a nod of acknowledgment from Eymond, Joseph pointed toward Antonio’s quarters and drawled:
“Oh! My dear friend, I simply must discuss the improvements to the gear machine with you... Let’s go to your room... and talk all night...”

Antonio, assuming Joseph was drunk, didn’t feel it appropriate to refuse and allowed him to head toward his room.

Outside the Crown Prince of Spain’s chamber, a robust noblewoman, seemingly mistaken in her target, whisked away Louisa Maria’s maid, who had been standing watch, without allowing her to make a sound. The maid disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

Moments later, Joseph and Antonio arrived outside the room. Antonio gestured to his attendant:
“Open the door.”

The attendant was just retrieving the key when Eymond courteously stepped forward, smiled, and said,
“Allow me.”

Eymond gently turned the lock and opened the door, then stepped aside.

Joseph led Antonio into the room, which was dimly lit. The guards' quarters appeared empty, but faint candlelight flickered from the direction of the main bedroom.

Joseph withdrew his arm from Antonio’s shoulder at the opportune moment. Antonio, now puzzled, instinctively took a few steps forward. Suddenly, he heard sounds he wasn’t supposed to hear—

A woman’s voice, high and lilting, repeatedly calling out “Godoy,” or slurring compliments like “You’re amazing.”

The man’s voice was lower, mostly punctuated with heavy sighs and grunts.

Antonio froze in place.

He recognized the voices all too well—they belonged to his princess consort and her guard, Godoy!

What were they doing?!

Antonio wanted to convince himself they were doing nothing, but the answer was undeniable!

A surge of anger rose from the soles of his feet to his head. His fists clenched tightly, the veins on his forehead bulged, and he gritted his teeth as he took two heavy steps forward.

But unexpectedly, he stopped.

He lowered his head, trembling, then retreated to the doorway. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath, turned, and walked away.

Joseph was dumbfounded.

Wait, seriously? Bro, you’re supposed to burst in there! I’ve got the guards ready to storm in and drag those adulterers out to “swim with the pigs.”

At the critical moment, you bailed?!

What am I supposed to do? As your friend, I can’t be the one storming in to catch them for you. If the rightful party doesn’t show up, what’s the point?

Joseph stared blankly for a few seconds before chasing after Antonio and catching him by the arm.

“Why did you leave? Was there something ‘special’ in the room?”

Antonio walked on in silence, head lowered. Joseph decided to be more direct:
“Was the princess consort in there? Why didn’t you go in and check?”

It wasn’t until they returned to the royal workshop that Antonio seemed to regain his composure. With bloodshot eyes, he turned to Joseph, his lips trembling as he said:
“She... she betrayed me...”

Joseph nodded.
“Then you should’ve gone in and taught her a lesson.”

Antonio’s eyes reddened further. He looked utterly lost, like a 40-year-old child. After a long pause, he muttered softly:
“I... I... I didn’t dare...”

Joseph was utterly baffled. After much discussion, he finally understood: his Spanish relative was a complete pushover—unbelievably so.

“Are you seriously putting up with this?”

“No...” Antonio murmured, head lowered. “Maybe... you could help me?”

“I...” Joseph was at a loss for words.

Elsewhere, Eymond, realizing the two Crown Princes hadn’t returned for a while, awkwardly relocked the door. Inside, the pair remained oblivious to the visitors.

...

The next morning, as per the scheduled itinerary, Joseph welcomed Paul Petrovich, the Russian crown prince and future Tsar Paul I, outside the Versailles Palace square.

The Russian prince seemed delighted that the French Crown Prince had come so far to greet him. Upon disembarking, he approached Joseph with quick steps, bowed, and said in fluent French:
“It is a great honor to meet you, Your Highness! Thank you for coming to welcome me. Even in Saint Petersburg, I often hear people speak of you as a legendary ‘Son of God,’ pious and full of wisdom...”

Paul’s effusive praise left Joseph slightly embarrassed. He hurriedly returned the bow and suddenly noticed a little girl, about six or seven years old, standing beside Paul. Dressed in a blue-and-white tulle dress, her skin was exceptionally fair, and her bright, intelligent eyes sparkled.

Joseph changed the subject, smiling as he asked, “And who might this be?”

The girl stepped forward, lifted the hem of her dress, tilted her head slightly, and curtsied gracefully. In a clear, sweet voice, she said,
“May God bless you, esteemed Crown Prince. My name is Alexandra Pavlovna.” Her French was impeccable.

Paul smiled and introduced her:
“Your Highness, this is my eldest daughter. I thought this would be a great opportunity to let her see the bustling heart of Europe—Paris—while celebrating His Majesty the King’s birthday.”

“Welcome to Paris,” Joseph said warmly, smiling at the girl. “There’s a wonderful place here called the Eden Amusement Park. You mustn’t miss it.”

Alexandra’s eyes lit up with undisguised excitement, though she quickly regained her composure, curtsied again, and said,
“Thank you for the recommendation. I look forward to visiting.”

Joseph and Paul began making their way toward the Palace of Versailles. Although the latter was more than twice Joseph's age, he seemed rather deferential in his demeanor:

"Your Highness, I am deeply grateful for your care of Alexei. You helped him find his purpose. Please rest assured that you will always have two most loyal friends in Russia—Alexei and me."

Behind them, Alexandra followed with the poise of a little adult, her chest held high, and every step she took conformed to the strictest court etiquette—a testament to her rigorous training.

Yet the curious glances her large eyes occasionally darted around betrayed the childlike innocence of her soul.

After settling their luggage and freshening up briefly, Alexandra accompanied her father to pay respects to the King and Queen of France. Later, she joined the Crown Prince in watching a fencing match.

The two heirs spoke in hushed tones, their conversation private. Alexandra, meanwhile, sat properly in her chair, observing the noble youths dueling with blades amidst glinting steel and dazzling displays.

To be honest, she found no interest in these spectacles. However, before departing Saint Petersburg, her imperial grandmother had instructed her to always adhere to courtly manners, so she voiced no complaints.

Moreover, she had another task assigned by her grandmother—to closely observe the French Crown Prince.

As she discreetly glanced toward the Crown Prince, a lively girl of about ten, wearing a puffy dress, suddenly skipped over to their group.

Maria Clementine first curtsied to Joseph, then smiled warmly as she knelt to greet Paul:

"You must be the Crown Prince of Russia! What an honor to meet you. You seem like such a kind and amiable person. Oh, my name is Maria Clementine."

The Crown Prince of Russia promptly returned her greeting. After exchanging a few pleasantries, the little princess quickly befriended the even littler Alexandra.

"Your name is Alexandra? What a magnificent name! Hehe, let me share some candy with you."

The younger girl hesitantly accepted a piece of vanilla mint candy, responding politely:

"Thank you very much, but I have nothing on hand to offer in return."

"No need to be so formal! I have plenty more," Maria Clementine replied with a giggle. "By the way, you're Russian, right? Your French is so good! How much 'autumn' do you study it every day?"

Alexandra corrected her immediately: "Did you mean to ask, 'how long'?"

"Ah, yes—'how long.' Haha!"

"Two hours a day," Alexandra replied.

As the two chatted, the fencing match reached its intermission, and a circus troupe took center stage to entertain the audience.

The young girls' attention was immediately drawn to the performance.

Soon, a magician in a red robe stepped onto the stage, producing over a dozen doves and a small black bear with a wave of his hand.

Maria Clementine clapped her hands and cheered excitedly:

"Wow! That’s incredible! How does he do it?"

Alexandra calmly explained, "The doves were hidden in his sleeves beforehand, and the bear was concealed beneath the stage, covered by his robe. Generally, magicians also hide rabbits, dogs, and similar animals in their coats."

No sooner had she spoken than the magician produced two foxhounds from his sleeves.

Maria Clementine pouted in disapproval:

"How can you spoil the magician's tricks? That ruins all the fun!"

Alexandra replied serenely, "You were the one who asked me, 'How does he do it?'"

"I was only expressing amazement!"

"Then you shouldn’t blame me."

"I’m not blaming you..."

"You are..."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Hmph!"

"Hmph!"

The two little girls, who had just bonded over their shared interests, now turned away from each other in a minor spat over the magician's act.

Paul, smiling at his daughter's and the Tuscan princess's bickering, turned to Joseph and said:

"Your Highness, I hope you understand—there are many ethnic Russians and Orthodox churches in Nesvizh and Slutsk.

"Unfortunately, they often face unjust treatment. This is especially true now, as the Polish Sejm is dominated by anti-Russian factions. Ethnic Russians are being heavily marginalized."

The "Sejm" he referred to was akin to the lower house of the Polish parliament. Currently, it was controlled by reformist factions advocating anti-Russian independence and implementing measures to address the nation's deep-seated issues.

Paul continued, "Because of this, we have no choice but to take certain diplomatic actions against Poland."

Joseph thought to himself: The Russian groups in Poland are notorious for their unruly behavior. And yet, in your account, they’re the ones being oppressed.

But such was international politics. Seldom did anyone tell the whole truth, and ultimately, outcomes depended on strength and strategy—or, occasionally, personal alliances, though the latter often came with dubious morality.

Joseph smiled sincerely and leaned toward Paul, whispering:

"Rest assured, I fully understand Russia’s stance on Poland—just as I hope you understand France's actions in North Africa. Moreover, I believe the best way for Russia to ensure the protection of its ethnic groups in Poland is to bring them directly under His Majesty the Tsar's 'protection.'"

After all, Catherine II’s annexation of Poland was already a foregone conclusion. Russia had invested significant resources to prepare for it, and even if France opposed it, stopping her would be nearly impossible. So, in front of the Russian heir, it was wiser to offer a favor and secure some benefits in return.

Paul looked at Joseph in surprise: "Is this your personal stance or...?"

"The King shares this view as well."

Paul beamed with delight. "I’ve always believed that France and Russia are the true guardians of European order! The friendship between our two nations is unbreakable!"

Joseph sighed inwardly. Back in the day, Louis XVI probably shared the same warm rapport with your father. And look where that ended.

Still, he nodded with utmost sincerity:

"You’re absolutely right!"

Then, steering the conversation toward his desired direction, Joseph added:

"Your Highness, however, I must stress that the Ottoman Empire is the true enemy demanding our attention right now. I hope Russia can act as 'God’s Spear' to pierce through the Ottomans, and France will spare no effort in supporting you in the Mediterranean."

If Russia and the Ottoman Empire could exhaust each other for a few more years, Poland might just have enough time to fortify itself against Russian encroachment.

Paul found Joseph’s statement rather amusing. France and the Ottoman Empire seemed to share an alliance, didn’t they? And yet, the Crown Prince spoke as though they were sworn foes.

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