The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 157

Chapter 157: Win or Lose

In another private box on the second floor of the auction hall, Princess Maria recognized Clementine’s voice the moment she made her first bid. That chattering tone echoed so incessantly through Versailles that it was impossible not to remember.

Maria hadn’t expected her to compete for this necklace. But then again, she wasn’t surprised—wasn’t Clementine in Paris precisely to compete for him?

As Maria’s eyes returned to the "Starry Wish," once worn by the Crown Prince, a sudden thought struck her: this might be a preview of their rivalry’s ultimate outcome.

Whoever won the necklace would win him.

The idea flashed through her mind, and a look of determination appeared in her eyes. Turning to her maid, she whispered:

“300,000 livres.”

The maid nodded immediately and called out the bid.

Some of the noble ladies from Versailles, recognizing the "Starry Wish" from the Crown Prince’s portrait, were tempted to join the bidding. But before they could react, the price had already soared to a staggering height, silencing their ambitions.

Clementine, however, was undeterred.

“350,000!” she exclaimed, her wide eyes filled with fiery determination.

“400,000,” Maria’s maid responded without hesitation.

“500,000!” Clementine cried.

“550,000.”

As Clementine prepared to raise the bid again, she suddenly froze. A dismal realization struck her—she was out of money.

Being only ten years old, Clementine’s finances were limited to her annual allowance and the 200,000 livres her father had given her for this trip to Paris. Her total “assets” amounted to 560,000 livres. She couldn’t afford another 50,000.

“560,000 livres!” she bit her lip and called out her maximum bid.

Hearing Clementine raise her bid by only 10,000, Maria felt a wave of relief and signaled her maid, “600,000.”

At fifteen, Maria already owned her own estate and a fishery, making her far wealthier than the little girl. Confident in her victory, she believed this battle for the necklace was hers.

Sure enough, when her maid announced “600,000,” the auction hall fell silent.

Clementine stomped her foot in frustration, helplessly listening as the auctioneer called out, “600,000 livres, once.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she bit her lip. For some inexplicable reason, she felt that losing the "Starry Wish" meant losing the Crown Prince.

“Oh, my dear, what’s the matter?”

Queen Marie noticed her niece’s trembling shoulders and asked with concern. Then, seeing Clementine’s reddened eyes, she realized something was wrong.

“Do you really want that necklace?” she asked, pointing at the "Starry Wish" displayed on the velvet. A sudden realization dawned on her—it was the necklace from the portrait!

Now she understood why her niece had been so determined to bid.

Clementine looked at her aunt with teary eyes and nodded firmly.

“600,000 livres, twice.”

The Queen smiled gently and said, “My dear, you may bid as much as you like. I will pay for it.”

“Really?!”

Clementine’s eyes lit up with joy. As the Queen nodded, she quickly wiped away her tears and interrupted the auctioneer, shouting, “Wait! 650,000!”

With Queen Marie’s support, Clementine won the necklace without suspense.

When the auction house manager respectfully presented the "Starry Wish" to her box, Clementine eagerly took the necklace, pressing it against her chest and savoring the cool touch. Then she turned to the Queen, curtsied, and beamed, “Thank you so much, my dearest aunt! I love you so much!”

But as she raised the necklace to show it off, it snagged on a gemstone on her dress.

With a soft snap, the chain broke, and dozens of glittering diamonds spilled onto the floor.

Clementine instinctively reached out to catch the falling gems but caught nothing.

She froze for three seconds before bursting into tears. “Why? Why am I always so unlucky?!”

Several maids scrambled to the ground, carefully collecting the scattered diamonds.

The Queen was startled but quickly composed herself. She gently embraced her niece, stroking her back and soothing her with kind words.

…

Some time later, Clementine silently followed Queen Marie out of the eastern wing of the Tuileries Palace. Although the auction house assured her the necklace could be restored, she couldn’t find joy in their promise.

From a corner in the palace corridor, Princess Maria bit her lip, feeling utterly drained. She had seen Clementine leave with the Queen, which made the reason behind her sudden comeback in the bidding crystal clear.

Her heart felt hollow. It was evident now—the Grand Duchess of Tuscany was the Queen’s choice, not her.

If that were the case, even if the Crown Prince preferred her, he would ultimately have to marry that girl.

From the very beginning, she had already lost.

Taking a deep breath, she said to her maid, “Alisa, let’s go home.”

…

The following morning, a carriage carrying the Princess of Two Sicilies departed from the southern outskirts of Paris along the Royal Road, heading toward the sunrise.

Not long ago, the Crown Prince had led thousands of soldiers along this same road to welcome her. Now, she returned alone. He had offered to see her off, but she refused—crying in front of him would be far too undignified.

The sunlight stretched the carriage’s shadow long across the road, like a hand reaching desperately for Paris, yet grasping at nothing.

Inside the carriage, Maria hesitated for a long time before placing the letter in her hand back on the table.

From the corner of the unsealed envelope, her elegant handwriting peeked through: Dear Your Highness, the days I spent in Paris have been the happiest of my life. I pray to God daily that my life could freeze in that moment we danced on the carousel together. Though such a wish is impossible, I will forever treasure this memory. When I return to Two Sicilies, I will pray every day for your health and offer blessings for you and the Grand Duchess of Tuscany…

She had written this letter in tears last night, intending to have her maid deliver it to Joseph this morning. But at the last moment, she gave up.

Perhaps the feelings of a young girl should remain buried deep in her heart, rather than causing him even a moment’s distress.

…

On the second floor of the Tuileries Palace, in an office, Joseph was reviewing the revenue report for Fashion Week delivered by Viscount Fresselles.

The report was thick. Flipping through several pages without finding the total figures, he looked up at the committee chair beside him.

As if anticipating his question, Viscount Fresselles quickly said, “Ah, Your Highness, the total revenue for the past few days is 4.62 million livres, with expenditures of 310,000 livres.”

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