Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

“Thankfully we mentioned it today,” Talleyrand said, limping along with Zubov toward the outside, his head turned slightly, “However, I think this may actually be a good opportunity for you.”

Zubov did not quite grasp: “What opportunity are you referring to?”

Talleyrand lowered his voice: “Since you assumed the role of Commander of the Guards, you have not yet achieved victory in a major battle.

“If you can defeat the Persians this time, gain a large territory in the Caucasus region, or even march into Persia, I believe the Tsar would certainly look at you in a new light.”

Zubov’s mind was instantly stirred.

As an ambitious lover, his greatest wish was to surpass Potemkin, the Tsar’s most favored.

He was more handsome than Potemkin, knew better how to amuse the Tsar; the only thing he lacked was military accomplishments.

Potemkin had secured Moldavia on the western Black Sea for the Empire; he himself would seize the Caucasus on the eastern coast!

Thinking of this, he felt his whole body charged with energy.

…

Rhineland.

The small town of Castelrain in the west of Palatinate.

In a modest dwelling beside the street, Baron Scheller glanced at the smoked sausages, chicken, vegetable soup, and mashed potatoes on the table, nodding politely at the elderly couple across: “Thank you for your hospitality, it truly is a feast, Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas.”

In fact, these foods seemed rather ordinary to him; however, he knew considering the Nicholas family’s circumstances, this was probably the kind of meal reserved for festive celebrations.

Mrs. Nicholas quickly smiled and waved her hand: “I’m not sure if it’s to your taste. Besides, you paid so much for the lodging…”

Indeed, Scheller and his wife were merely staying temporarily there.

They originally planned to cross the Rhine River from Strasbourg into France; halfway through, they heard that Count Latour, fearing Massena would attack, ordered all river-crossing facilities, including docks and bridges, dismantled, making passage impossible in the short term.

Thus, Scheller had to detour through Palatinate, traveling south from Saarland to Reims.

When they arrived in Castelrain, they found that a “Cup of Hercules” soccer competition was being held there, and all the inns were fully booked.

Finally, upon the enthusiastic recommendation of an innkeeper, they found temporary lodging at the Nicholas household.

In fact, during this era, the home accommodation business was quite thriving; many citizens were willing to provide accommodation for a fee.

After the few around the dining table made their prayers, Scheller was about to pick up his spoon when he heard disorderly shouting from outside, “Immediate election of Congress!”

“French people, get out of Palatinate!”

“We want freedom; the French have no right to rule here!”

Scheller appeared somewhat excited and quickly moved to the window, only to see seventy or eighty people carrying signs, shouting as they passed along the street.

He turned to Nicholas, excitedly saying: “So you have liberals here too!

“Are the police strict? Let’s go support them later…”

Mr. Nicholas stepped forward, swiftly drawing the curtains, looking at Scheller with an odd expression: “What are you talking about? Why support the rioters?”

Scheller paused, quickly realizing: “Are you worried about the police? Indeed, those damned lackeys!

“But trust me, if you act fast, they won’t catch us. I have experience…”

The old man’s tone had become somewhat less tolerant: “Mr. Scheller, if you continue this nonsense, I must ask you to leave.”

“No, no, listen, freedom must be fought for collectively!” Scheller saw his stubbornness and mimicked speakers from Vienna street rallies, waving his arms and loudly declaring, “Otherwise, how will the King and his lackeys ever reduce those terrifying taxes, and how could they possibly stop…”

Nicholas interrupted him: “Of course they will. His Majesty the King has arrested the hateful tax officer, and the tax rate has been halved compared to before.”

“Huh?” Scheller was stunned for a moment, then rallied his spirits: “Yes, the taxes are slightly lower, but are you truly content with just that? Work, life, rights, there is so much more to fight for…”

The old man was already heading for the door: “It seems you are one of those rioters outside as well. We were almost deceived by them before.

“Now, please leave. Annie, return his lodging fee.”

“No, but,” Scheller argued, “why do you defend that person in the Royal Palace? Freedom and human rights are…”

Mrs. Nicholas quietly noted: “But His Majesty the King is quite good. I mean, the King of Paris.

“Since the French arrived, they built a salt-boiling plant in the suburbs, and many townspeople work there; the wages are significantly higher than those of previous factories. My two sons boil water there, earning 13 florins each month.”

“Things here are rather subpar. They say that over in Cologne, at the quarry and Brühl’s coke plant, wages can reach 17 florins a month.” Nicholas pointed outside, “So you’re planning to join those rioters and ruin everything, only to return us to the former way of life?”

Seeing Scheller silent, his tone softened a bit: “Right, you’re from out of town; maybe you don’t know.

“The King sent new police to arrest gang members, and they never randomly beat people.

“Now children can even train their football skills at the Church; those who play well receive bonuses.

“There’s a newly opened… what’s it called across the street?”

“Mall,” the old lady reminded him.

“Yes, a mall. It’s full of exquisite French goods, and prices are cheaper than what caravans used to bring.

“Oh, now there’s a free opera performance held on the street every month.”

The old lady added: “I’ve heard that starting next year, the Church will also teach children to read for free.”

Nicholas glanced at Scheller again, then returned to his chair and gestured outside: “Those people are all ruffians, hooligans, endlessly causing trouble. If it wasn’t for the police stopping them, I’d honestly like to give them a beating!”

Scheller opened his mouth, barely squeezing out: “But even still, we must fight for freedom and human rights.”

The old man looked at him inquisitively: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Freedom? No one has thrown you into prison.

“Oh, even serfs are now free to enter town; what else isn’t free?”

Mrs. Nicholas softly reminded him: “There are no serfs anymore.”

“Oh, yes. The King abolished serfdom; they only need to pay 12 years’ redemption money to buy a piece of land.”

Scheller: “Is this true?”

“Certainly, you can ask anyone; it’s the same throughout the Palatinate.”

Scheller felt a bit dizzy.

He had always been advocating for Congress and elections, but even if Congress managed this small town, it probably couldn’t do better than now, could it?

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