The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Dilemma

Three days later...

The Municipal Commissioner’s Office.

“Sir, are you aware of the Crown Prince’s reorganization of the police force?” Frouois stared at the municipal commissioner with a worried expression. “The Duke of Orléans intended to make the Crown Prince a laughingstock, but now he’s made such remarkable progress. The police morale is sky-high, and I fear…”

Lefebvre carefully selected a bottle of wine from the cabinet and replied nonchalantly, “Relax, Gael. Someone else will handle this matter.”

“Someone will handle it? Who?”

Lefebvre admired the deep purple liquid in the bottle against the light, speaking unhurriedly, “I spread the word about the Crown Prince’s actions yesterday. I suspect certain individuals won’t sit idly by.”

As he spoke, Guizot, the Police Director, knocked and entered, giving Lefebvre a perfunctory salute before urgently saying, “Sir, you must persuade His Highness the Crown Prince to reconsider.”

“Oh?” The corpulent mayor produced a corkscrew and feigned curiosity. “Persuade him about what?”

Guizot stomped his boots against the floor in agitation. “Haven’t you heard? His Highness has completely overhauled the police force, which will seriously impact the security of the Saint-Antoine district!”

He detailed Joseph’s reforms and added with a bitter face, “Honestly, if anyone else had made such a mess, I’d have dismissed them by now. But this is His Highness the Crown Prince; you see the dilemma...”

Lefebvre deftly uncorked the wine bottle, inhaling the aroma as he shook his head. “Viscount Guizot, the Crown Prince’s actions pertain to internal police affairs. It’s difficult for me to intervene.

“Moreover, I’m preoccupied with budgetary matters. You know, the allocation from the merchants’ guild is limited, and now the Crown Prince has increased personnel in Saint-Antoine, meaning nearly half the police budget must go there.”

“This is unacceptable!” Guizot exclaimed, visibly distressed. “He cannot take up so much of the budget! You must help me think of a solution!”

Lefebvre pretended to deliberate deeply before pouring Guizot a glass of wine, a subtle smile flickering in his eyes. “It’s not entirely without recourse. For instance, if you can make the Crown Prince retreat of his own accord, I’ll do my best to assist you.”

Guizot gave him a long, probing look, drained his wine in one gulp, and nodded heavily before leaving with a grim expression.

Once the office door closed, Frouois turned to Lefebvre in astonishment. “Sir, how did you know Viscount Guizot would come?”

Handing him a glass of wine, Lefebvre chuckled. “The Crown Prince may be competent, but he’s still a child. He only sees what’s before him and overlooks the ripple effects of his actions.”

“Ripple effects?”

Taking a sip of wine, Lefebvre explained, “The police force’s largest source of income, aside from guild allocations, is the commission from selling police positions. By spreading the news that the Crown Prince has elevated commoners to the rank of police officers, those intending to buy positions will suspect such opportunities will soon be free. Who would pay under such uncertainty?”

“That’s the biggest source of profit for the police,” Lefebvre said smugly, swirling his wine. “Then, I’ll cut the municipal allocation to Guizot’s department. They’ll be driven to desperation. What do you think they’ll do?”

Frouois’s eyes lit up. “They’ll fight tooth and nail to stop the Crown Prince!”

“Exactly.”

As the sun set...

Police Director Guizot’s carriage finally arrived at the Saint-Antoine police station.

In Joseph’s office, Guizot greeted him respectfully, forcing a smile as he flattered, “Your Highness, you’re incredible! This reorganization has revitalized the police force!”

After a round of hollow praise, he shifted to a grim expression. “However, the civilian patrol members you incorporated barely know how to wield swords, let alone crossbows or firearms. They’ll need at least three to four months of training to be effective. Until then, the patrols they covered will be unattended. You had me bring in 120 officers from other districts, but their security burdens are heavy, and they’ll soon have to return...”

Joseph gestured for him to sit and smiled. “It shouldn’t take that long. I’ve devised a simplified training regimen. Combat training will take about ten days. Borrowing officers for that duration shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

“That... should be fine.” Guizot adopted a solemn demeanor. “But training is critical and mustn’t be rushed.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Joseph replied. “Rest assured, I’ll handle it appropriately.”

“Alright...” Guizot nodded stiffly, unwilling to relent. “There’s one more issue. You’ve recruited over 200 officers at once. The police department can’t provide that much equipment...”

“No need to worry about equipment. I’ll take care of it.”

Guizot hadn’t expected his meticulously prepared “problems” to be dismissed so easily.

After presenting a few more contrived challenges to the reforms, all met with the same indifference, he left in frustration, his mind in turmoil. It seemed the Crown Prince was determined to upend the police department.

On the ride back, Guizot’s eyes grew colder. The Crown Prince must be ousted from the police system to restore normalcy!

Shortly after Guizot’s departure, two elegant carriages arrived at the Saint-Antoine police station.

Louis XVI’s attendant alighted, adjusting his gold-rimmed monocle as he examined the dilapidated station. Confirming the location, he briskly entered with his retinue.

Upon meeting Joseph, the attendant meticulously performed the full court protocol before presenting a letter. “Your Highness, this is a letter from His Majesty the King.”

He gestured for a servant to open an ornate wooden box. “Her Majesty the Queen heard you didn’t bring a royal chef and worried you weren’t eating well, so she prepared these.”

Joseph looked inside to find intricately crafted cakes, strawberry tarts, cream puffs, and various confections.

He rubbed his forehead with a wry smile. Just looking at them was cloying, but he appreciated Queen Marie’s genuine care.

Breaking the wax seal on the letter, he unfolded the paper to find Louis XVI’s elegant, flowing Italic script:

“Dear Joseph,
I hope this letter brings you my deepest affection and warmth! As your father, I want to express my unwavering care and concern for you.

You won’t believe it—I finally completed the ‘Salamander Fountain’! I swear it’s the finest piece of art...(a lengthy description of the fountain follows). Once finished, you were the first person I wanted to share it with, only to learn you were working at the municipal office. I’m sorry; I’ve spent so much time in my workshop that I had no idea.

How are you finding life in Paris? Your mother shouldn’t have let you take on such burdens at only thirteen. That’s Brienne’s job...

By the way, I heard you completed university studies! How did you manage that? It’s unbelievable. I’m so proud of you, my son. You’re the pride of the entire royal family! I’m confident you’ll restore France to the glory of the Sun King’s era...(a page of effusive praise).

Joseph, I heard you’re reforming the police department and doing an excellent job. Well done! Go ahead and do whatever you think is right. If there’s any trouble, I’ll back you up. You’ll always have my support. If you ever feel overwhelmed, return to Versailles immediately. Your mother constantly worries about you not eating properly...

Finally, know that no matter where you are, you’ll always be my dearest son. A thousand kisses to you!”

The letter’s overt sentimentality didn’t overshadow its genuine paternal affection.

Joseph took a deep breath. In his previous life, his parents had passed away during his university years, leaving him devoid of familial warmth. Now, he felt a deep sense of comfort, cherishing the hope of a long, peaceful life with his family in this lifetime.

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