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The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 134
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 19:04:01 +0000 UTCChapter 134: The Crown Prince: Wang Badan, Don’t Expect to Profit Another Penny from Me
The Minister of War narrowed his eyes at the words, and if it was the Queen pulling the strings behind the scenes, then the dossier on the French Guard officers was undoubtedly sourced from the royal family’s claws—the secret police.
Even the case of the cannon fire on the farmhouse had been uncovered by them.
This indeed made everything add up. A woman trying to protect her son was truly no different from an enraged lioness.
He turned his gaze toward Berthier: “How do you know all of this?”
The latter instinctively shrank back, muttering, “General, I naturally have my unique sources.”
“The important thing is, I can guarantee the reliability of these messages. Moreover, I have ways to solve your troubles.”
Marquis Saint-Priest gave him another once-over and slowly nodded. “Alright, please tell me what your solution is.”
Berthier quickly ran over his lines in his mind, feeling as though he was about to face an exam. Frankly, he didn’t particularly like being pushed to the forefront, but the Crown Prince had said that he was the only one suited for this task, so to repay His Highness, he mustered the courage to come here.
“Firstly, you must quell the public opinion as soon as possible.”
Marquis Saint-Priest nodded. “How specifically should this be done?”
“Announce to the public that the military will severely punish those responsible for the Crown Prince’s assault. Then, take a few small fry and give them heavy sentences to make an example of them,” Berthier interlaced his fingers nervously, continuing, “As for the ones who shelled the farmhouse, especially the leader, Théodore, it would be best to conduct a public trial to establish the Gendarmerie’s impartial image.”
The Minister of War waved his hand irritably, interrupting him: “What you are suggesting is useful, but if people keep reporting officers, the matter will never come to an end.”
Berthier nodded. “Yes, General, and this is where I can be of help.”
“You? What can you do?”
The root of all the problems was the Crown Prince being assaulted, and if His Highness could express forgiveness for those members of the French Guard who “weren’t involved,” while Bessonval and several officers were severely punished, the Queen would likely not pursue the matter any further.
Marquis Saint-Priest furrowed his brows. “At the moment, the Crown Prince’s injuries haven’t healed, and he must resent the French Guard deeply. How could he speak for them?”
“Actually, I’m very close to an important person by the Crown Prince’s side.” Berthier said the lie so smoothly that he couldn’t even bring himself to look the Minister of War in the eye, “And this person risked his life to protect His Highness during the attack and received His Highness’s commendation. If he helps, there’s a great chance he can convince the Crown Prince.”
Saint-Priest sat up straight suddenly, his eyes wide. “Are you telling the truth?”
“Yes, General.”
Saint-Priest studied him for a while, then nodded. “In that case, may I ask what you wish to gain from this?”
Finally, the key point had arrived! Berthier took a deep breath and said, “You know, I come from a humble background, so the most I can do is some research, or perhaps manage an engineering battalion.
“I’ve always wanted to become a real officer, one who can lead an army into battle on the battlefield.
“So, I want a regiment.”
Saint-Priest immediately showed a relaxed smile. “That’s not difficult, Major Berthier. I remember I was the one who signed off on your transfer to Paris, so now I can just sign again for your promotion to colonel. Oh, I should now address you as Lieutenant Colonel Berthier.”
Berthier quickly added, “General, please wait until I finish speaking.”
“Oh? Do you have any other demands?”
“Well, I want an elite unit.”
“Sure.” The Minister of War didn’t care at all about an elite regiment commander in the face of the big problem at hand.
“An elite unit like the French Guard.” Berthier rubbed his hands. “Also, it would be best if I could select the soldiers myself.”
Saint-Priest frowned slightly, realizing this young officer wasn’t being modest at all.
However, he soon remembered that the French Guard’s reputation was completely tarnished, and their garrison had already been moved to the town of Moret-le-Rouan. It would probably soon become a second-rate force.
Alright, let him choose the soldiers as he wished.
He nodded again. “I can agree to that.”
After finalizing all the details, Berthier stood up to take his leave.
Marquis Saint-Priest escorted him to the door and suddenly asked, “Lieutenant Colonel, could you tell me, who is the important person behind you?”
From Berthier’s demeanor and the energy he exhibited, the Minister of War guessed that he was probably just a spokesperson for some big figure.
“General, please wait for my good news.” Berthier bowed and immediately climbed into the carriage.
The Minister of War watched the carriage disappear into the distance, muttering to himself: “Is it General Custine? No, he shouldn’t have this much influence in Paris.
“Or is it Baron de Bréteuil? Berthier did come here because of his recommendation.
“Perhaps… it’s the Queen herself…”
He immediately shook his head and laughed. If the Queen had such plans, how could France be in its current state?
...
Joseph lay on the sickbed, listening to Berthier finish speaking, and suddenly furrowed his brows. “He agreed so quickly?”
“Yes, Your Highness, there was almost no hesitation. He agreed to everything.”
Joseph slapped his thigh, a face full of regret. “That means the price was too low! You’ll have to go again tomorrow…”
After explaining the “price increase,” he then instructed Berthier, “I’ll have Lieutenant Colonel Dubois bring the military academy cadets to help you select soldiers.
“Don’t accept any officers from noble families, or those who bought their ranks.
“Also, don’t take anyone with a history of violating military discipline or criminal records.
“Remember to take all the horses and weapons. As for clothing, tents, and other military supplies, take as much as you can. Don’t be shy.”
Berthier’s eyes widened as he looked at the Crown Prince, feeling like he was truly being asked to act like a bandit…
That night, Joseph gazed at the stars outside the window, carefully going over all the people who needed to be dealt with in his mind.
He had to find a new “prey” for Marat, or else the latter would surely keep a tight grip on the French Guard officers and tear them apart.
At this point, Joseph had no need to fully sever ties with the military nobility. His goals had always been to acquire the elite of the French Guard and, in addition, to ruin Bessonval and the Orléanists like him.
Now that most of his goals had been achieved, it was time to back off a bit. With the royalist Frondeurs stationed in Paris and Bessonval—the traitor—exiled to Seychelles, at least the historical scenario of a Parisian revolt with the stationed troops standing by would not repeat itself.
“The Duke of Orléans?”
Joseph shook his head. This man’s foundation was too solid. Even if he caught some of his flaws, it would be hard to take action.
“The great nobles in the Privy Council who still want to divide power?”
There were too many scattered targets, and right now, Marat’s group didn’t have enough manpower, so the effect wouldn’t be great.
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