Chapter 1178: A Different Christmas
Joseph simply smiled. "No, not only should we not raise the interest rates, we must lower them..."
"What? But that would only result in fewer sales, Your Highness," Gaudin stammered.
Joseph swept a glance over the officials present before turning back to Gaudin with a simple instruction. "Please make preparations for the issuance of one hundred and thirty million francs in national debt."
The Finance Minister nodded in astonishment. "As you wish, Your Highness."
The French government currently carried less than 1.4 billion francs in foreign debt, and the interest rates were remarkably low. There was almost no pressure regarding repayment, leaving significant room for further borrowing. According to the Ministry of Finance's previous reports, France's debt ceiling sat at approximately 2.7 billion francs. As long as they stayed below that figure, there was no risk of a fiscal crisis.
Indeed, France's ability to service its debt had improved drastically. Years ago, a debt of two billion francs would have been impossible to repay.
This was exactly why Joseph was willing to use national debt to raise funds.
He was well aware that France's emerging capitalists and Italy's old aristocrats were incredibly wealthy. Buying up a hundred million francs in national debt would be child's play for them. The difficulty lay in how to convince them to part with their money.
In truth, his method was nothing more than a fundamental "truth" of the financial world—chase the rise and kill the fall.
Then, under the bewildered gazes of the officials, he concluded the financial planning and began discussing wartime management of Saint-Domingue, Saint-Louisiane, and other territories with the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
As this was a general mobilization meeting, Joseph only provided broad directives. The meeting adjourned around six o'clock in the evening.
The various departments would now have to draft detailed plans based on his instructions. This was when the true preparations for war began.
As Joseph followed the King and Queen out of the conference hall, the officials bowing in their wake, Queen Mary immediately turned to her son. "I thank the Virgin Mary for sending you to us. If your father and I had to face such a situation, we would surely be at a loss."
She had remained silent during the meeting, but her heart had been racing with anxiety. After all, they were facing an enemy force of six hundred thousand! Fortunately, her son's calm demeanor had given her a sense of confidence.
"We must do something to help you," Queen Mary said, reflecting for a moment. "I still have three and a half million francs in my accounts. Take it to buy cannons or reward the soldiers."
Louis XVI added immediately, "I have over three million francs as well."
Queen Mary looked at her husband in surprise. "Which royal estate did you sell? Or was it a hunting ground?"
She knew her husband rarely kept much liquid cash; to produce several million, he would usually have to sell off property.
Louis XVI gave a bashful smile. "These are my patent royalties and dividends from the Industrial Development Fund."
While helping his son design weapons and forging presses, this "Master Craftsman" had managed to register twelve patents. The licensing fees alone brought in over a hundred thousand francs annually.
Looking at their anxious yet deeply caring expressions, Joseph suddenly felt that as long as they were by his side, he could take on the whole of Europe alone.
He didn't stand on ceremony with his parents, but just as he was about to thank them for the contribution, he remembered his plan for the national debt. He thought for a moment before speaking.
"Perhaps you could use that money to purchase national debt instead."
"Purchase national debt?"
"Yes. When the time comes, you will do this, and then that..."
After dining with the King and Queen, Joseph returned to his quarters, exhausted. His mind drifted back to the steam warships, and he gave instructions to Eman. "Please prepare a carriage. We depart tomorrow at dawn for the Brest Shipyard."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Your Highness, you've returned?" Alexandra's voice came from the doorway, and the girl drifted inside with a light step, curtsying to Joseph. "You've been in meetings all day; you must be exhausted."
"By the way, did I hear you mention you were going somewhere?"
The Crown Princess was nearly fifteen now, and her height reached just past Joseph's chin.
"I have matters to attend to in Brest," Joseph replied, closing his eyes as he felt the girl's fingers gently massaging his temples.
"Brest? That's so far away," Alexandra said in surprise. "Won't you stay for the Christmas banquet with me and Their Majesties?"
"Christmas?" Joseph only then realized that Christmas was a mere three days away. He could only shake his head helplessly. "I shall attend the Midnight Mass at the Brest Cathedral."
The Crown Princess pursed her lips. "Wait here for a moment." She turned and ran out of the room.
She returned shortly, breathless, and solemnly pressed something into Joseph's hands. "This is your Christmas gift. May God keep you safe forever."
Joseph looked down and couldn't help but chuckle.
Alexandra had brought him a large apple and a small cardboard box.
This was a tradition he had promoted years ago to stimulate holiday spending—the legend that giving friends and family apples and small gifts on Christmas would ensure God's blessing of peace.
As for why giving an apple meant peace, he hadn't explained it, and no one had asked. Since French apples ripened in late October, they kept perfectly well until Christmas.
"Thank you very much." Joseph set the apple on the table and opened the box.
Inside was a pair of silk gloves. They were black, exquisite, and adorned with very intricate lace trim.
"I knitted them for you. I hope you like them."
"Of course, they are beautiful. I like them very much." Joseph pulled on the gloves; the fit was perfect, light, and comfortable.
He realized he should return the favor with a gift for his wife. But he had been so busy lately that he had forgotten Christmas entirely, so he had nothing prepared.
Well, the apple was easy enough; his bedroom always had various fruits set out.
As for the accompanying gift...
Joseph tapped his forehead. 'Fine, that will do.'
"Ah, I have a gift for you as well. Please wait a moment."
He stepped into his bedroom, selected the finest-looking apple, emptied a jewelry box, and stuffed something inside.
When Alexandra took the box from him, her right hand immediately dipped—it was much heavier than she had expected.
Eagerly setting the apple aside, she flipped open the lid. Inside was a deerskin holster with the dark muzzle of a handgun peeking out from the top.
"Is this... a pistol?"
Joseph nodded. "The most formidable pistol in the world."
A moment later, the Crown Princess's cheers echoed down the hallway. "Can it really fire six rounds in a row? Oh, it has rifling, too! It must be incredibly accurate!"
She threw her arms around Joseph's neck and kissed him firmly on the cheek.
"Dearest, I love you so much! This is definitely the best gift in the world!"
"Ah, careful! It's loaded!"
...
January 4, 1798.
With three days remaining until the Eastern Orthodox Christmas, the Russian army destined for India had already left its homeland and entered the territory of Bukhara.
Count Pahlen checked his pocket watch by the light of a nearby torch. It was not yet three in the morning—the hour when men were at their most drowsy.
He looked up at the Gatchina Palace, which loomed like a great beast in the night, and gestured to the men behind him. "Count Zubov, I wish you good luck!"
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