The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 27

Chapter 27: The Sword of Justice

Joseph murmured to himself with a smile:

"I should open a bank someday too."

After finishing the financial documents, he pushed the file tray aside, rubbed his sore shoulders, and picked up the draft of the new tax legislation to review.

The legislation was extensive, spanning more than thirty pages.

As he read, Joseph frowned deeper and deeper. The authors of these laws must be incredibly "brilliant" to mix unrelated and nonsensical provisions together. Even someone with the benefit of a 21st-century education like himself found it dizzying. Expecting the general populace to understand this mess was sheer fantasy!

Moreover, it seemed that to avoid opposition from the nobility, the authors deliberately included clauses favoring the aristocracy at the expense of ordinary citizens.

What they hadn’t anticipated was that these seemingly minor clauses would become the focal point of noble opposition to the tax reforms. Ordinary citizens, unable to grasp the intricate details of the law, were swayed by public opinion, believing that the legislation would harm their interests, and thus joined in the opposition.

In truth, the core of the legislation aimed to abolish the nobility's land tax exemptions, requiring them to contribute to national finances.

Additionally, it sought to promote economic development by allowing the free transportation and trade of grain and eliminating tariffs between regions.

This legislation was a testament to the weakness and compromises of Louis XVI’s government...

A "sweet dish tainted with filth"—trying to please both the nobility and the commoners but ending up despised by both.

Thinking of this, Joseph picked up his pen and meticulously crossed out all the tax provisions harmful to ordinary citizens and small businesses.

Pulling some, hitting others—this was the essence of politics.

After his amendments, the legislation was no longer a tool for the aristocracy to leverage against the government but rather a weapon to strike at them.

Joseph reviewed his revisions carefully. Just as he intended to have his assistant copy and organize the draft, he realized it was already dusk.

"Forget it. I’ll deal with it tomorrow," he said, stretching and tossing the documents into his drawer. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. There's no emergency here, so I won’t force my subordinates to work overtime."

As he stepped out of the office, he encountered Eymond accompanied by a maid.

"Your Highness," Eymond said, "Her Majesty the Queen is hosting a gambling game in the Mars Hall and has invited you to join."

Joseph felt a faint urge to laugh. A mother inviting her son to gamble—how peculiar that sounded.

But he understood that this was a very normal pastime in the Palace of Versailles. Even the Sun King, Louis XIV, had encouraged such activities in his "Advice to the Dauphin," claiming they strengthened bonds between the monarch and his courtiers.

Joseph nodded. "Very well, I’ll go."

Returning to his quarters, he changed into a light yet luxurious outfit suited for leisure activities and followed the Queen’s maid to the Mars Hall.

The lively sounds of cheerful piano music and laughter reached him from a distance. At the entrance, the guards bowed and opened the massive double doors.

Marie Antoinette, playing baccarat beneath a grand portrait of Louis XIV, immediately spotted her son. Her face lit up as she waved enthusiastically.

"My dear, you’ve finally arrived!"

Joseph quickly approached and bowed. The Queen, clearly in high spirits, said, "I heard you were busy all day in Brienne. Come, relax and have some fun! Oh, do you know? I just won eleven rounds in a row! I hope you’ll have the same luck as I do!"

Hearing that the Crown Prince had arrived, the surrounding nobles paused their activities and greeted him. Among them, the young ladies in silk dresses giggled and cast admiring glances at him.

As Joseph looked at the nobles fawning over the Queen and the flushed, laughing Marie Antoinette basking in her gambling wins, he suddenly recalled the reflection of a future writer, Stefan Zweig:

"She was too young at the time to know that every gift bestowed by fate is secretly marked with its price."

Joseph was lost in thought when Count Morneau, his face heavily powdered, approached him with a beaming smile and gestured invitingly.

"Your Highness, you’ve arrived at the perfect moment! We’re short one player. Please join us!"

At the table, a young nobleman quickly excused himself, creating the "shortage" Morneau mentioned.

Unable to refuse such hospitality, Joseph took a seat at the card table beneath a painting of Mars, the god of war. Servants promptly brought over wine and refreshments.

"Two tens," announced Count Papes, playing a hand.

The rules were similar to "Big Two," but with Aces as the lowest cards and Kings representing the highest.

Joseph, sipping juice, glanced at his hand and shook his head. "Pass."

Looking at the pile of gold écus and silver livres on the table, his mind drifted to France's daunting 2-billion-livre debt. Watching the carefree nobles tossing coins around without a care, Joseph could only smile wryly. Perhaps a grand revolution wasn’t such a bad idea after all...

Distracted by thoughts of national debt and lacking skill in the game, Joseph quickly lost three rounds in a row, forfeiting 12 gold écus.

Not far away, a group of noble girls watched the game intently. Seeing the Crown Prince seemingly downcast, they mistook it for frustration over his losses. Immediately, their delicate fists clenched in determination, and their teeth ground with audible tension.

Several sprang into action.

Some flanked their fathers or uncles, glaring daggers at them as if ready to strike. Others sidled up to their brothers, pretending to inquire about their hands while secretly pinching their arms in a painful twist.

In theory, the French court discouraged intentional losses in gambling. But tonight, the three nobles at Joseph’s table unanimously decided to abandon that tradition.

Morneau broke up a sequence of cards to play a single eight. Count Papes held back his ten and queen, allowing Joseph’s seven to win the round...

Joseph’s "luck" suddenly improved, winning hand after hand. Even with a hand dominated by single cards and a high card of just a Jack, he emerged victorious.

The streak revitalized Joseph’s spirits. He became so engrossed in the game that he lost track of time until a glance at the clock revealed it was nearly 11:30 PM.

He stood and excused himself from his fellow players. Eymond collected his winnings as Joseph, feeling drained, headed for his chambers.

Outside the hall, Eymond caught up, whispering excitedly, "Your Highness, you won 156 écus in total."

Since 1 écu equaled 6 livres, Joseph had earned nearly 1,000 livres that night!

"Not bad," Joseph said with satisfaction. "I made quite a bit without lifting a finger!"

But then he thought of the 2-billion-livre debt. A quick mental calculation revealed that at this rate, it would take him 550 years to pay it off.

Joseph sighed. Solving such a colossal debt required more than a few lucrative ventures. He needed to leverage his position to spark an industrial revolution across France.

Steam engines, textile technology, and the accompanying financial and patent policies—all had to be implemented as soon as possible.

As these thoughts occupied his mind, Joseph realized he had wandered off course. A grumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten dinner, his attention having been consumed by gambling.

Looking up, he noticed the light shining from the kitchen ahead. It was still staffed with royal chefs.

Rather than wait for food to be delivered to his distant quarters, Joseph decided to grab a bite there.

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