The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 60

Chapter 60: I Have a Friend Who Can Predict the Future

The "flower seller" on the opposite side sneered coldly and drew his sword from his waist. "I, Honoré Rocher de Villar, will make sure you remember today's lesson."

Members of the Villar family were almost all soldiers by tradition, and Rocher was no exception. He served as a major in the Bourges regiment and was known for his courage.

"No! Please stop!" Emilie cried out urgently. "You must stop this at once!"

However, once two young men had drawn their swords, all they sought was the other’s blood.

André Davout was the first to strike, his swift blade aiming straight for Rocher’s ribs.

Rocher forcefully deflected the sword downward, redirecting its tip toward the ground, and countered with a strike toward André's leg.

André, a seasoned soldier who had seen the battlefield and faced life and death, reacted swiftly, stepping back while slashing upward with the edge of his sword.

Rocher hurriedly dodged, clearly unprepared for the lower-ranking officer's formidable swordsmanship. He immediately focused, increasing the speed of his movements.

In the courtyard garden, the "scarlet-clad noblewoman" and the "flower seller" clashed in a flurry of sword shadows, their duel fierce and evenly matched.

From behind a tree, Joseph peeked out, observing that André held the upper hand. However, the dim light made it difficult to predict the outcome of even a momentary lapse in focus...

His mind raced.

First, he could not allow the brother of the future Marshal Davout to die here.

Second, Emilie and her mother were clearly being bullied, their family fortune on the verge of being plundered. Emilie was André’s sweetheart, and leaving the young couple to fend for themselves would be unjustifiable.

Furthermore, if Emilie and André were to marry, with his help, they could reclaim the influence belonging to the Villar Dukedom. The Villar family wielded significant sway over the local military in Moulins, and they could potentially become a valuable ally in the future.

"Stop fighting... André, be careful—!" Emilie cried out as she ran forward, attempting to place herself between the dueling men.

Both men were startled, hastily retracting their swords.

However, Rocher's reaction was slightly slower, and the tip of his blade grazed the girl’s arm.

"Ah!" Emilie let out a cry of pain. Looking down, she saw a wound, about a finger's width, on her arm.

Rocher froze momentarily, then placed a hand on his chest, feigning remorse. "Oh, dear Emilie! My apologies; I did not intend this!"

André, on the other hand, was panicked. Grabbing his sweetheart's hand, he stammered in distress, "Are... are you alright? Is it bad? Why did you rush over like that?"

Joseph emerged from behind the tree, and Eymond quickly stepped in front of him. Facing the two armed men, Eymond declared, "Put away your weapons at once!"

Perna swiftly opened her small leather case, retrieving tools to tend to Emilie’s wound. Only after seeing that the injury was not severe did she let out a sigh of relief.

Seeing strangers arrive and noting Emilie's injury, Rocher realized the fight could not continue. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sheathed his sword and grabbed Emilie’s arm. "Hmph, lucky for him. Emilie, let’s go back and continue dancing."

Joseph suddenly spoke coldly, "Sir, why are you pulling on Monsieur Davout’s fiancée?"

"What did you say? Davout’s fiancée? Ha!" Rocher laughed derisively, failing to recognize the disguised Crown Prince. "I don’t know who you are, but he’ll never be worthy of marrying into the Villar family."

"Is that so?" Joseph smiled faintly. "Then let’s make a wager."

Rocher paused. "Oh? A wager on what?"

"If tomorrow Monsieur Davout and the Duke of Villar’s daughter are engaged, you will kiss his boots in public," Joseph said calmly. "If they’re not, then Monsieur Davout will kiss yours."

"How can this..." André was stunned and hurriedly tried to stop him, only to see the young man signaling to him with his eyes.

Joseph gestured toward Eymond. "Monsieur Davout, trust my friend here. He is skilled in divination. He just accurately predicted that you will be engaged to this young lady tomorrow."

Eymond: "..."

André found the voice oddly familiar. Suddenly, he was struck with realization and exclaimed in shock, "Your Highn—"

Joseph quickly interrupted with a loud cough. "Ahem! Regarding this wager, what do you two think?"

Though André felt entirely unprepared for such a turn of events, he gritted his teeth and nodded. "I agree."

Rocher sneered disdainfully. "Fine, I’ll take the bet."

"Good. Please shake hands, gentlemen." Joseph gestured to the others. "Let everyone present bear witness and ensure fairness."

Rocher, dismissive of the wager, casually shook hands with Davout before striding away.

André wanted to inquire about the Crown Prince’s plans, but the latter merely said, "I won’t intrude on the precious time of lovers. See you tomorrow."

With no choice, André suppressed his doubts, watching the trio walk away.

Emilie suddenly remembered something. She called out to Perna’s retreating figure, "Thank you for tending to my wound. May I know your name?"

Receiving no reply, she sighed softly and turned to embrace André tightly, thinking this might be their last moment together.

After walking some distance, Perna asked Joseph curiously, "Your Highness, how will you ensure that Miss Emilie and Monsieur Davout are engaged?"

Joseph smiled slightly. "I’ll persuade Miss Emilie’s mother."

"Persuade?"

Joseph motioned toward the Hall of Mirrors. "Let’s go find her now."

When the three of them returned to the Hall of Mirrors, the ball was at its peak, with everyone moving elegantly to the music.

Joseph, wary of attracting too much attention, stayed in a corner and sent Eymond to find Emilie’s mother.

As Eymond left, a young man in a sequined dress approached Joseph, scrutinized him briefly, and slipped a note into his hand. He then pointed toward a woman dressed as a scholar on the second-floor platform of the hall. "She asked me to give this to you."

Joseph glanced suspiciously at the curvaceous woman before opening the note, which contained only a single line: "I know your greatest secret. If you wish to keep it hidden, come to the second room at the eastern end of the South Wing’s second floor."

The note was written by Madame Sanberant, who was well-versed in the art of seduction.

Typically, simply writing "I admire you" like a young girl or "I wish to spend a night with you" like a brazen noblewoman would not have a high success rate.

She knew no one could resist the allure of secrets.

Especially the secret of how someone knew their secret.

She smiled confidently.

She was certain that once the thirteen-year-old Crown Prince stepped into her room, he wouldn’t want to leave.

Joseph frowned. His greatest secret?

Of course, it was the fact that he came from another world.

Could it be that this woman was also a traveler?

With that thought, he immediately turned and left the hall, heading toward the South Wing.

On the other side of the hall, a young man dressed as a fairy watched Joseph’s departing figure and narrowed his eyes. The Crown Prince had left behind hundreds of noblewomen here twice already. What was he up to?

After a moment’s thought, he swiftly followed.

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