Chapter 371: A New Divine Artifact
Joseph had no idea that Queen Mary had once again set him up with a match, and an alarmingly young girl at that.
During dinner, he cautiously prepared himself to fend off his mother's usual prodding about marriage. However, the Queen merely cast him knowing glances from time to time, never bringing up the topic again, instead chatting about Russian customs and traditions.
At the subsequent ball, Joseph became the undisputed center of attention for all the nobles.
A Crown Prince not yet sixteen years old, personally leading troops to repeatedly defeat the great armies of Prussia and Hanover on the battlefield — this had the nobles constantly comparing him to the Sun King Louis XIV.
Some even declared, "His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince, is destined to surpass the Sun King!"
Previously, when Louis XVI suggested erecting a statue for the Crown Prince, some ministers had voiced their mild disapproval, noting that the King himself did not yet have a formal public statue.
But after news of the Guards Corps' crushing defeat of Charles II reached Paris, no one raised any objections anymore. Artists from all corners flocked to Versailles upon hearing the news, vying to sculpt a likeness of the Crown Prince.
The ball opened with the rousing anthem "Triumph," and the music that followed was exclusively themed around war and victory. The nobles, discarding their usual refined elegance, threw themselves into vigorous military-style dances.
When the ball was halfway through, a renowned poet stepped into the center of the Hall of Mirrors and recited a grand ode of praise to Joseph, sending the atmosphere into a frenzy.
The ball lasted until deep into the night before Joseph finally managed to return to his chambers. All the social engagements left him feeling more exhausted than fighting for three days on the front lines.
The next morning.
After a simple breakfast, Joseph dragged his weary body to the Royal Armory, located beside the sycamore grove on the southeast side of Versailles.
The British Foreign Secretary wouldn't arrive in Paris for about another week, so Joseph intended to make good use of this window to finally develop the long-planned bulletproof inserts.
Just as he stepped out of his chambers, Joseph saw the spacious corridors lined with noble ladies dressed in their resplendent finest. Instantly, all manner of bold, demure, and languidly sorrowful come-hither glances assailed him from every direction, making his scalp tingle.
Eman leaned in and whispered, "Your Highness, most of them have been waiting here since three or four in the morning. Some didn't even leave after the ball ended..."
Perna, who had just finished Joseph's routine check-up, happened to follow him out. The gazes of the ladies around them immediately turned cold and filled with murderous intent, startling her so much that she quickly bowed her head and fled back to the royal physician's office on the second floor.
Joseph, meanwhile, ignored the glamorous sights along the way and strode quickly out of Versailles.
Once he reached the square, he stroked his stubbled chin, gritting his teeth and muttering to himself, 'Go ahead and flirt! Once I'm past puberty, I'll definitely pick a few and give them a good run for their money!'
Martinier, the head of the Royal Armory, had clearly anticipated the Crown Prince's arrival and was waiting at the entrance bright and early with his management team.
Joseph nodded to the group bowing in salute, then got straight to the point: "Monsieur Martinier, are all those things I asked you to prepare ready?"
The latter gestured toward a workshop on the west side. "Yes, Your Highness, they're all ready and laid out over there."
When Joseph was in the Southern Netherlands, he had written a letter listing the materials needed to manufacture bulletproof inserts, attaching simple technical specifications, and sent it to the Royal Armory.
Inside the workshop, Martinier had boxes of iron plates, ceramic tiles, silk, and other items laid out before the Crown Prince. He reported with a hint of pride, "Your Highness, as you can see, I had the artisans produce iron plates of various hardnesses and thicknesses for your selection. The ceramic tiles were custom-ordered from Sèvres' two most reputable workshops, and we also had a sample produced from Quimper."
Sèvres was the porcelain-making mecca on the western outskirts of Paris. Nobles who couldn't afford Oriental porcelain, and disdained English goods, largely chose products from here. Quimper, on the other hand, was the faience pottery center of Brittany, primarily catering to common households, though its workshops also possessed many unique firing techniques.
Joseph nodded in satisfaction. The Royal Armory was, after all, personally overseen by his father, and they were quite reliable in getting things done.
He then asked the question that concerned him most: "And the adhesive? Did Monsieur Lavoisier have any recommendations?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Martinier replied, gesturing to a large glass bottle on the table. "Monsieur Lavoisier recommended this special casein glue."
"Casein glue?" Joseph asked, looking curiously at the creamy-yellow, viscous liquid inside the bottle.
"It's an adhesive made from processed milk," Martinier quickly explained. "First, the milk is fermented and degreased. Then, substances like alkali, water glass, and slaked lime are added to promote coagulation, after which it's filtered..."
Joseph had never heard of an adhesive made from milk, but for now, he could only trust Lavoisier.
He immediately took out iron plates, ceramic tiles, and other materials of various sizes from the wooden crates and summoned the artisans to begin trials.
He had previously watched documentaries describing bulletproof inserts, so he immediately instructed the artisans: "Please glue the iron plates, ceramic tiles, silk, and iron plates together in sequence. Pay close attention: make sure to press them down as firmly as possible."
"For this one, place the silk on the outer layer, followed by the iron plates and ceramic tiles, and then silk again at the very back."
"For this one, use an iron plate for the outermost layer, then silk..."
Uncertain how effective these 18th-century alternative materials would be, he had the artisans produce five different combinations for trial. Each combination, in turn, used plates of varying thickness and different amounts of adhesive, resulting in over 40 test samples.
They worked until about three in the afternoon, when an artisan informed Joseph that the casein glue treated with heat drying had already dried.
Joseph took the insert, which was about the size of a modern tablet computer, and tried to pull the iron and ceramic plates apart with force.
It didn't budge an inch; it was extremely sturdy. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed this milk-based adhesive would largely suffice.
He had no particular expertise in adhesives. In reality, casein glue possessed advantages such as high viscosity, fast curing, and strong bonding power, and it continued to have widespread applications even in the 21st century.
Following his requests, Lavoisier had specifically adjusted the manufacturing process to maximize the bonding strength, making it certainly impossible to break apart by hand.
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