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Chapter 115: Unexpected Harvest

As the two men spoke, a slow, rhythmic drumbeat drifted from the north side of the parade ground.

The training instructors on the parade ground immediately called a halt, beginning to gather their units. The squad of police officers closest to the parade ground's main gate already formed ranks and ran towards a nearby gray building.

Dubois clapped Alexander on the shoulder, gesturing towards the gray building. "Time for lunch. Ah, what day is it today?"

"Wednesday."

"Oh, right, Wednesday. You're in luck; today we have beef stew and buttered pea soup."

In the spacious mess hall, Alexander watched hundreds of cadets waiting for their meal and asked in a low, puzzled tone, "François, aren't we going to the officers' mess?"

Dubois stated matter-of-factly, "This is the officers' mess, and naturally, the cadets' mess as well."

"But..." Alexander instinctively recalled the black bread and salted meat soldiers usually ate in his own army. "Are we really eating here?"

Dubois understood why his old friend was so perplexed.

In the French army, officers and soldiers belonged to two distinct social classes, and the police force operated similarly. Soldiers and police officers were akin to commoners, while military and police officers were aristocrats. Their living conditions were vastly different; they would never eat together, let alone consume the same food.

He nodded, explaining, "Yes, that's how it is here. Officers and police officers mingle; I've grown quite used to it."

Before he finished speaking, a police officer approached, carrying a tray. He bowed to Dubois and him, then placed two plates of food before them.

Alexander was stunned. It was beef stew and buttered pea soup, accompanied by white bread and half an egg.

He quickly turned to look at the other cadet tables; they were all served the exact same meal!

He gazed at Dubois in astonishment, whispering, "The cadets here eat this well?!"

Dubois handed him the cutlery, shaking his head. "We only get beef stew on Wednesdays, and lamb or turkey on Fridays. Other days, it's just pork or fish."

Alexander's eyes widened. He found it somewhat hard to accept. In the army where he served, soldiers' rations consisted of bread, wine, and a small piece of salted meat. Yet, the plate of stew before these police officers contained enough meat for three days' worth of a soldier's portion.

What's more, it was freshly stewed, steaming hot and aromatic, far superior to salted meat.

No wonder those police officers could run a mile in 15 minutes, carrying an 18-pound load. This was all thanks to excellent sustenance!

He looked at Dubois again and asked, "How much does all this cost?"

"Five to seven sous per person per day. His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince, said we must never skimp on food."

"That much!" Alexander found it almost unbelievable. Were these even police? His soldiers only received three sous a day...

He suddenly realized something. "François, why do you always mention the Crown Prince?"

"Because His Highness founded this police academy," Dubois said, chewing on his beef. "The funds are directly allocated by His Highness. He also set the training curriculum. Oh, and His Highness often comes to observe classes or participate in training."

As he was speaking, an instructor at the entrance called out loudly, "All rise!"

Everyone in the mess hall instantly rose with a whoosh. Immediately after, a young man's friendly voice rang out, "Please, everyone, be seated. Don't let me disrupt your meal."

Alexander's eyes darted over, and he saw a young man in a Paris Police uniform entering the mess hall, accompanied by several high-ranking officials from the police academy.

Dubois lowered his voice. "See? I told you His Highness often comes."

"Is that His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince?"

"Yes, he usually comes only on Mondays and Thursdays, but sometimes he drops by for a visit."

It wasn't until Joseph took a seat at a table that the other police officers followed suit and sat down.

Soon, several police officers, their faces beaming with pride, placed the beef stew and other dishes on the table for Joseph and the Chief of Academic Affairs. Serving the Crown Prince was an immense honor, one that required achieving "excellent" ratings in two consecutive drills.

"Thank you very much."

Joseph nodded his thanks to the police officers, his gaze suddenly falling upon an unfamiliar face next to Dubois.

"Major Dubois, who is this?"

Dubois and the other man quickly walked over, saluting with their hats.

Dubois gestured to his side. "Your Highness, this is Major Berthier, whom you once inquired about."

Alexander Berthier appeared very reserved, immediately saluting again. "It is an honor to meet Your Royal Highness, the Crown Prince."

Joseph's eyes instantly lit up. He had only made a last-minute decision to attend a logistics support class today, never expecting such an unexpected harvest.

'Mr. Chief of Staff, I've finally met you in person! This time, I absolutely must keep you!'

He smiled and nodded at Berthier. "Please, have a seat. I've long heard of your outstanding performance in the Battle of Yorktown. Without your meticulous deployment, the British might have held out much longer."

Berthier sat up straight and said, "It was indeed a difficult battle, Your Highness. Fortunately, we ultimately achieved victory and glory."

Thus, Joseph used the Battle of Yorktown as a topic and began conversing with Berthier.

"Oh? Major Dubois invited you to visit the police academy?"

As Joseph spoke, he subtly gave Dubois an approving glance.

"Oh, yes, Your Highness." Berthier was still a little nervous, muttering, "Actually, a cousin of mine in Paris is getting married, so I came. And François mentioned in his letter that he was working at the Paris Police Academy, and that it was quite special..."

Joseph waited for him to finish, then asked casually, "By the way, Major Berthier, you're currently serving in Soissons, aren't you?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Dubois leaned closer and whispered, "Your Highness, François has always served in the engineer battalion. Actually, he came to Paris this time to seek connections, hoping for a transfer back to Paris. However, he probably doesn't yet have 'sufficient means'."

Joseph understood that the "means" Dubois spoke of referred to the cost of pulling strings. He hadn't expected someone who would become the Chief of Staff to have struggled so much in the old military system.

'But for me, it's a case of finding what I'm looking for without even searching. An unexpected harvest!'

He rejoiced inwardly. 'He wants to return to Paris? Perfect! I desperately need people here.'

He smiled at Berthier. "Perhaps I could personally recommend you to the Marquis de Saint-Prise, allowing you to serve in the Imperial Guard or the French Guards."

Berthier hadn't expected the Crown Prince to offer such significant help. He immediately stood up, agitated. "Your Highness, I truly don't know how to express my gratitude!"

...

Besenval tugged at his collar, the winter wind making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open. "This damned weather."

He shook the reins and turned to ask the officer beside him, "How much farther?"

"General, less than three miles."

"Alright, tell everyone to pick up the pace."

"Yes, General."

As the officer issued the command, the drumbeats immediately quickened. Hundreds of French Guards soldiers promptly hastened their steps to match.

Besenval muttered under his breath, "Why couldn't those esteemed ladies wait until it was warmer to come..."