Chapter 1461: Forced Into a Corner
"I'll kill him! Bastard!" Charles's eyes were bloodshot as he thrashed against his restraints. "Let me go!"
Count Binder asked in feigned shock, "Who do you want to kill? What on earth happened?"
He was a French diplomat and the primary architect of this entire scheme.
Meanwhile, Charles's attendants discreetly hid a pistol—had the Prince not brought his own, this weapon would have "accidentally" appeared on a card table. "Release me!" Charles shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Room 219. "He stole my woman! I'll duel him!"
"Unforgivable!" Count Binder matched his indignant tone. "Whose daughter have you fallen for?"
Charles blurted out instinctively, "She isn't just someone's daughter..."
Binder immediately cut him off, looking tense. "Don't tell me you've fallen for a married lady?"
Charles tilted his chin up defiantly. "What if I have?"
"With all due respect, then you shouldn't be threatening her husband."
In the lobby below, the commander of the Queen's Guard gestured to his subordinates. "Verify the lady's location."
He then bellowed at the crowd, "Everyone, drop your weapons! Who was responsible for those shots?"
A few minutes prior, he had received an anonymous tip about an assassination attempt at the masquerade ball. He had rushed into the villa just as the gunshots rang out.
Every eye in the hall turned toward Charles's position.
The commander pointed a menacing finger upstairs. "Bring him down!"
Louise Caroline, the Princess of Hesse, recognized the "stag" mask as Prince Charles and felt a surge of panic.
Ripping off her peacock mask, she rushed to the officer. "Sir, I assure you, that gentleman is merely intoxicated. He won't harm anyone."
The commander returned a curt salute. "Princess Louise Caroline, we must ensure her safety."
Louise Caroline leaned in closer, whispering, "That is a man of extremely high status. Your actions will cause a diplomatic disaster..."
Inside Room 219, the two occupants currently "exercising" froze at the sound of gunfire, immediately halting their movements.
A moment later, Louise heard a young man’s roar: "I'll kill him! I'll duel him!"
Her pupils contracted instantly. It was unmistakably Charles's voice.
While she was confident in her ability to manipulate his heart or discard him without him resenting her, she didn't dare truly offend him.
Provoking that boy could quite literally bring the French army marching into Prussia!
'How is he here? Damn it! What do we do?'
She shoved aside Baron Trudaine—who seemed reluctant to end their encounter—and scrambled to gather her scattered garments. "Quick, help me dress! Faster!"
Noblewomen's attire in this era was notoriously intricate; dressing alone would take at least twenty minutes.
Just then, the shouts of the Queen's Guard echoed from below: "Verify the lady's location!"
Louise felt a wave of vertigo.
Why was the Guard here? Those fools!
God! If the guards burst into Room 219 and saluted her, it would broadcast her infidelity to the entire world—caught in the act by one lover while another screamed for a duel.
Damn it, damn it all! How did it come to this?
The Queen's Guard began knocking on doors one by one. "Lady, are you there?"
"Lady, we need to confirm your safety."
Louise looked at her paramour in desperation. "I cannot be found here! Think of something!"
Baron Trudaine acted as if he had only just processed the situation, pointing toward the door. "Wait, that voice sounds familiar. I definitely know him. Perhaps I should go meet this rival..."
The Queen of Prussia stared at the ceiling in despair. After a two-second hesitation, she said grimly, "Fine. If that is Prince Charles out there, do you still wish to go?"
Baron Trudaine’s face went pale. "Prince Charles? Yes... that voice... My God! You were also with His Highness...?"
"Stop babbling!" Louise snapped. "If he finds us together... you're finished too!"
"Right, right..." Baron Trudaine’s mind sharpened instantly. He scanned the room and pointed to the window. "You must hide first."
"Hide? Where?"
"Outside the window."
Louise gestured to her disheveled state. "Are you mad? I'll be seen like this!"
Baron Trudaine grabbed his own discarded shirt and thrust it at her. "Wear this."
Without buttoning, a man's shirt could be thrown on in seconds.
Louise looked at his thick chest hair. "And what about you? How will you handle the Guard?"
"I have a plan. Send Tina in..."
Tina was Queen Louise's personal maid.
Outside, Count Binder gripped Prince Charles firmly, whispering urgently in his ear:
"Your Highness, you must control your rage. Think! If news reaches Paris that you were brawling with a Teutonic barbarian over a married woman, the scandal would be catastrophic! You are a Prince of France!"
The French had always looked down on Prussians; "Teutonic barbarian" was a common slur.
Charles stiffened, his struggle losing its momentum. "I... but..."
Count Binder pressed harder. "If the Prince Regent hears of your conduct today, he will be profoundly disappointed."
At the mention of his older brother, Charles felt as if he’d been doused with ice water. His anger turned to anxiety. "Joseph... he must not find out. But am I to just let that fellow go?"
Count Binder patted his chest reassuringly. "I swear to you, I will see that man punished severely! And that wretched harlot will not escape either."
Charles, too shaken to question Binder’s ability to follow through, adjusted his mask and nodded. "Fine. Let's leave."
As Binder and the others escorted him toward the stairs, the commander of the Queen's Guard blocked their path. "My apologies, sir. You cannot leave until we have verified the lady's safety."
Binder removed his mask and produced his diplomatic credentials. "I am the French Consul in Berlin. I represent the French government and vouch for this gentleman. Now, step aside."
The officer wavered.
A diplomatic incident with France was beyond his pay grade, but if anything had happened to Her Majesty, his life would be forfeit. At that moment, a woman hurried over from Room 219 and whispered to the officer, "The lady is safe. Leave at once."
"And you are?"
The woman reluctantly removed her mask. "Just go."
The officer frowned. It was Atanice, the Queen's most trusted handmaiden.
The guests at the masquerade ball began to whisper amongst themselves.
"Where is the lady?" the officer demanded.
"She... has already departed."
Count Binder interjected, "See? This has nothing to do with us."
The officer hesitated, but the fear of the gallows won out. He gestured to Room 219, signaling his deputies. "Check that room."
Atanice panicked. "You can't—"
Two second lieutenants drew their swords and rapped on the door. "Lady, are you inside?"
"Get lost!"
It was a man's roar.
The tall lieutenant shared a look with his partner and kicked the door open. He froze instantly.
Inside the room, a strange blond man was engaged in a vigorous "exercise session" with the Queen's maid, Tina, both of them quite starkly exposed.
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