I am the Crown Prince of France

Chapter 226: Joy for Some, Sorrow for Others

December 10, 1788

All of Paris shivered under the biting cold winds. The news from other provinces about the shortage of grain made this winter feel even harsher. The only thing that brought some warmth to the hearts of the people was the news of victory from North Africa.

The French populace, on the brink of national awakening, could deeply resonate with the country's achievements and glory. The entire city buzzed with discussions about this event.

When the Guard Corps returned to their barracks in Paris, crowds gathered outside, welcoming them with cheers and warm smiles.

At the same time, a grand celebration was taking place at the Palace of Versailles.

Joseph, feeling somewhat weary, stepped off the railcar and was immediately met with a tidal wave of cheers. Looking up, he saw thousands of nobles lining the road on both sides of Versailles' courtyard, stretching all the way to the palace gates.

He forced himself to muster some energy, waving to the crowd, which only intensified their enthusiastic cheers.

Truthfully, after traveling for over half a month from Tunis to Paris, all Joseph wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for an entire day. But he knew that people are often swept up by circumstances, and he had to deal with the occasion at hand.

He glanced back at the carriage as Berthier, Joan, a few Intelligence Bureau agents, and the Tunisian representative Hirada stepped out.

Clearly unused to such a grand scene, the group stood frozen for several seconds before a whisper from the protocol officer snapped them out of their daze. They quickly gathered behind the Prince.

The group, with Joseph at the center, walked through the dense crowd as the court orchestra began to play, and the thunderous sound of cannons echoed in the distance.

The young noble ladies at Versailles were even more infatuated with the Prince than before. His experiences in distant North Africa had given his complexion a slight tan, adding to his manly charm and an air of mystery that was utterly irresistible.

Even the high-ranking nobles looked at Joseph with a new level of respect.

Before the Prince had gone to Tunis, the area was a chaotic mess, with French citizens being attacked left and right. The cabinet had even considered abandoning the troublesome region. Yet after the Prince's arrival, the situation in Tunis stabilized rapidly. By the time he returned to Paris, he had even secured a new province for France!

No one could believe this was mere coincidence. It was clear that the young Prince possessed talents and skills far beyond his years.

Of course, it could all have been orchestrated by the Queen behind the scenes, but the Prince's flawless execution could not be overlooked either.

Regardless of whether it was the Queen or the Prince, the royal family's prestige had been significantly enhanced. No one would dare view the royal family with the same derision as before. Instead, more and more people began to speak of the royal family with praise and respect.

Meanwhile, the nobles who frequented the Palais-Royal were experiencing intense inner turmoil. They had witnessed the Duke of Orléans stumbling, losing control over the high courts, public opinion, and the banking industry.

Should they continue to side with the Duke of Orléans? Or should they begin to curry favor with the royal family to secure their futures?

At the foot of the grand staircase at Versailles, Queen Marie gazed eagerly at her approaching son, restraining her impulse to rush forward and embrace him due to the presence of the Tunisian envoy. She managed only a formal greeting according to custom.

Hirada stepped forward, respectfully saluting the King and Queen, before presenting the application signed by Hajji Bey for Tunis to join France to Louis XVI.

The matter of Tunis becoming a French province had been decided ten days earlier, and this was merely a formality.

Louis XVI took a deep breath, summoning all his strength, and proclaimed loudly, "I accept Tunis' loyalty, and in the name of the King of France, I vow to forever protect Tunis, granting you peace and prosperity."

The entire square in front of Versailles erupted in thunderous cheers: "Long live the King!" "May the King's light forever shine on Tunis." "Praise be to God! Praise be to our King!"

The overwhelming cheers made the socially anxious Louis XVI tense up. It wasn't until the protocol officer whispered a reminder that he raised his hand to quiet the crowd, then invited the Tunisian representatives into the palace.

Afterward, Queen Marie presided over the ceremony in the Hall of Mirrors to officially receive the four new North African provinces into France.

This was based on Joseph's suggestion during his journey back to Paris, dividing Tunis into four provinces—Bizerte, Sousse, Kairouan, and Sfax.

Tunis City would be included in Sousse Province, while the poorer southern regions would belong to Sfax Province. From now on, the name "Tunis" would only be a geographical term.

Joseph had put a lot of thought into ensuring the long-term stability of Tunis. Dividing the region into four provinces would first dilute the overall identity of Tunis, preventing any future separatist movements. Additionally, the four governors could check and balance each other, avoiding the rise of autonomous local powers, as the Ottoman example showed. Finally, given the era's limited communication and management capabilities, it was difficult for a single governor to effectively manage the entire area. Tunis covered 160,000 square kilometers, over a quarter the size of France! Although it was large, its population was relatively small, so four governors should suffice.

After the ceremony, the King and Queen awarded honors to those who had distinguished themselves in North Africa.

Joseph stood somewhat awkwardly at the front of the line, with Berthier, Joan, Isaac, and others to his right.

Queen Marie placed a wreath on her son's head, looking him up and down before finally giving in and pulling him into a tight embrace. She asked in a concerned whisper, "My dear, I'm so proud of you! But tell me, were you hurt? Did you get sick? Did you manage to eat well in Africa...?"

Joseph gently patted the Queen on the back, nodding, "Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm a grown man now. I'll be traveling around the world more often, so you don't need to worry about me so much."

Marie's eyes grew misty, but her smile widened. "My Joseph will soar like an eagle in the vast sky, and I'll always be here waiting for you to come home."

Louis XVI joined them, whispering, "Yes, I feel the same way."

The court protocol officer checked his watch and cleared his throat discreetly.

Queen Marie quickly released her son, blinked away her tears, and took another wreath from the protocol officer, moving toward Berthier. "Your excellent performance in North Africa surprised everyone. Please accept the King's and my deepest respect, Colonel."

Joseph leaned in and whispered, "Mother, it should be Brigadier General now."

The Queen nodded, "Yes, I heard about the battle. Your contributions certainly merit a promotion to Brigadier General."

Joseph smiled slightly. By tradition, Berthier should have been promoted to Colonel, but a promotion to Brigadier General wasn't out of the question. Securing his rank while the Queen was in high spirits would greatly benefit the future development of the Guard Corps. After all, a Brigadier General could command an entire regional garrison, making it much easier to expand the Guard Corps or recruit officers in the future.

After placing the final wreath, the Queen gave a brief speech, and it was time for lunch.

Queen Marie, without any room for protest, took Joseph's arm and led him to the dining room, bombarding him with questions along the way. Meanwhile, his cousin Clémentine was itching to hear about his adventures in North Africa but couldn't get a word in edgewise.

For lunch, the royal chefs had prepared a North African-inspired "tagine" as the first course. The chef had agonized over whether this North African dish should be considered a soup or a main course. In the end, the small amount of broth led him to classify it as a dish.

Joseph, having eaten tagine every few days while in Tunis, was very familiar with it. The dish, slow-cooked in a clay pot with plenty of spices and sauces, often included beef, fish, tomatoes, and various vegetables, somewhat resembling an Eastern hotpot. It was quite tasty.

When the French chef's tagine was brought out and the conical lid was lifted, a rich aroma filled the air.

Joseph used his fork to pick up a piece of fish and popped it into his mouth. The savory, sauce-coated fish spread across his tongue, followed by a burst of seafood sweetness. After a few chews, he swallowed it down. It was far more delicious than the versions made by Tunisians. The French chefs truly lived up to their reputation!

Joseph suddenly had an idea: he could promote this dish in France to help people become more accepting of Tunisians.

But when he looked up, he noticed that everyone else was staring at the tagine, not making a move. Was the dish not to their taste?

As he puzzled over this, he saw the protocol officer whispering something to the Queen, who then awkwardly picked up her fork and reached for the clay pot. The rest of the nobles followed her lead, finally digging in.

Joseph slapped his forehead. He had forgotten that in Versailles, every meal was bound by strict etiquette. The order of utensils and the sequence of eating each dish were all regulated. Since no one had encountered this North African dish before, they didn't know where to start.

After the banquet, a celebratory ball was held—a Tunisian-themed ball.

The nobles donned North African-inspired outfits, and exotic music played as they began to dance.

Joseph, as was customary, stood in a corner, observing the Tunisian-influenced fashion and mentally calculating how much the Parisian fashion designers had made this time.

While many were enjoying the celebrations, the military aristocracy was heavy with concern.

"Who was it that said Berthier's troops wouldn't even make it into Tunis City?" a middle-aged officer grumbled quietly. "He not only stabilized the situation but even defeated the Algerians!"

"I didn't expect those Algerians to be such pushovers. If I had known, we would have gone to Tunis ourselves!"

General Astu frowned, "Berthier's prestige has grown considerably now. You know he's aligned with the royal family. If this continues, the royal family's influence in the army will only grow!"

"Exactly. The Moulins Regiment has already sided with the royal family," the middle-aged officer added. "And with the Queen's direct order, without the War Minister's involvement, the Viscount of Villars' troops were sent to North Africa!"

The Marquis of Saint-Véran, who had just returned to Paris yesterday, chimed in angrily, "We can't let this trend continue! Once the royal family no longer depends on our troops, they'll discard us like worn-out boots!"

Someone muttered under their breath, "But what can we do? We don't have any way to deal with Berthier."

Another voice, even quieter, added, "Actually, cooperating with the royal family wouldn't be so bad…"

The other officers immediately shot the speaker a fierce glare. It was an unspoken rule that monopolizing the army meant they could squander France's military budget as they pleased.

If military command were handed over to the royal family, the tens or even hundreds of thousands of livres in salaries, kickbacks from equipment procurement, and extra funds during campaigns would all disappear.

More importantly, their descendants might not be able to inherit their high ranks.

Their families might no longer be as prominent.

This was absolutely unacceptable!

General Astu spoke firmly, "We must remain united. Berthier isn't invincible.

"Remember, his regiment was originally part of the French Guard, with the other part now being the Maréchaussée Regiment. We should work to restore the French Guard's structure, merging these two regiments back under its command with a senior commander in place.

"That way, the royal family would have to issue orders through the commander to move Berthier's troops."

"This is very feasible!" the Marquis of Saint-Véran immediately agreed. "As for the Moulins Regiment, I recall it was originally commanded by Brigadier General Villars, but then the Viscountess suddenly took over."

He was referring to Brigadier General Villars, the uncle of Viscountess Marie-Émilie Villars.

"We need to use our influence to support Brigadier General Villars. His teenage niece is no threat."

"And we must find an enemy that Berthier can't handle, forcing the royal family to negotiate with us."

"You're right, but it can't be someone like the Algerians…"

…

Constantinople

Although Tunis' decision to secede from the Ottoman Empire didn't cause any tangible loss to the empire, it still created an uproar in Constantinople.

Especially with the war against the Russians going poorly, this news was the final straw that shattered the empire's morale.

People whispered about the defeats on the northern and southern fronts, and despair spread rapidly through the streets.

(End of Chapter)

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