Chapter 629: The Temptation of Macarons
Joseph was tickled by Charles's antics.
Still, he understood. His younger brother truly had few friends at Versailles. Ever since Alexandra arrived in Paris, she had been one of the rare peers he could play with.
What weighed on Charles's mind was his repeated defeats in swordsmanship against the young girl; he hadn't secured a single victory. Alexandra was a head taller than him and possessed a remarkable natural talent for the blade. So, despite Charles's diligent practice, he was consistently outmatched by her.
Joseph stroked Charles's head, chuckling,
"You're a Bourbon yourself, why don't you propose to her directly?"
To his surprise, the little boy burst into even louder sobs. "I already asked her to marry me!"
"Oh? And what did she say?"
"Wah-wah," he whimpered. "She said she doesn't want to marry a little kid..."
Joseph almost let out a laugh this time. An almost nine-year-old calling a six-year-old a "little kid." Well, that was consistent, he supposed.
"But what if she doesn't come back?"
Joseph had to offer his reasoning. "Look, she still has painting lessons with Monsieur Greuze, and Madame Garan's music classes aren't over either. She'll be back."
Charles wiped away his tears, his eyes wide as he asked, "Are you certain?"
"Yes, I'm certain."
"Splendid!" Charles's tears instantly turned into a grin. His older brother was the person he admired most; if Joseph said it, it had to be true.
Relieved of his "worry," the little prince bowed to his brother, then turned to his tutor and announced,
"I must feed Walnut first, and then I'll immediately join you for my Latin lesson."
Walnut was the Cape Parrot Joseph had gifted him.
As he passed Joseph's desk, however, his gaze was drawn to the beautifully packaged mound of macarons piled there. He instantly slowed his steps. Clearly, he had perfectly inherited Queen Mary's profound fondness for sweets.
Noticing his interest, Joseph promptly offered,
"Would you like some? Feel free to take as many as you wish."
Joseph had been fretting over the mountain of confections. Sorel had brought them to him for Valentine's Day, an occasion he had orchestrated by establishing the "custom" of gifting macarons to one's beloved, inspired by future traditions. His true aim had been to introduce the practice of giving chocolates, but alas, solid chocolate had yet to be invented in this era.
As a result, many noblewomen, eager to present him with macarons, found themselves unable to meet him due to their station. Eventually, word somehow reached them that Sorel had access to the Crown Prince, and they entrusted her with conveying their sentiments.
Sorel, ever one to delight in helping others, readily agreed to their requests. And what a task it proved to be! She arrived with several large boxes of macarons, all of which now cluttered the Crown Prince's bedchamber after her audience with Joseph.
Charles immediately began happily stuffing his pockets with macarons. Suddenly, he noticed cards tucked inside the packaging and, intrigued, began to read the inscription:
"To the esteemed Crown Prince," he began, "Your elegant demeanor fills me with deep... Brother, what's this word?"
"Ahem—" Joseph quickly stepped forward to intercede. "Never mind those words for now, just tear off the outer wrapping..."
Once Charles had left, Joseph made his way to the Petit Trianon, intending to discuss Potemkin's funeral arrangements with Queen Mary.
Potemkin was effectively the second most powerful individual in Russia, ranking just below the Tsar himself. Given his immense influence, often likened to that of an "Empress of Russia," his funeral demanded meticulous attention.
Furthermore, Britain had recently launched a diplomatic offensive in Russia, expanding Anglo-Russian trade and investing heavily in Donbas. This was clearly an attempt to neutralize French influence.
Joseph also intended to leverage the funeral as an opportunity for some diplomatic "investment."
A short while later, in the Petit Trianon, Talleyrand addressed Queen Mary, a list of Russian officials in his hand:
"Your Majesty," Talleyrand began, "you might consider mentioning Duke Zubov in your letter to the Tsar. His influence in Petersburg is considerable, especially now that Potemkin's sway is gone. The Tsar will most likely show him your correspondence."
Queen Mary nodded, motioning to the secretary at her side,
"When you draft the letter, please include my regards to him."
She then glanced at the gift list, a hint of confusion in her voice. "Why are we sending the Tsar eight sets of bookshelves, and all of them identical?"
Joseph offered a faint smile. "That way, she'll have no choice but to bestow them upon other nobles."
Indeed, the gift list included not only bookshelves but also numerous sets of ironware, cosmetics, and carriages.
Distributed by Catherine II among the Russian nobility, these items would serve as a massive promotion for French products.
Even the carriages for Potemkin's funeral procession were a gift from the Gem Carriage Company.
Once the funeral concluded, Talleyrand would be free to discuss opening a department store in Petersburg with Zubov.
Joseph knew well that after Potemkin's demise, this "young upstart" would dominate the Russian political scene for many years, right up until Catherine II's passing.
Furthermore, Zubov possessed none of Potemkin's acumen; he was short-sighted, craved both glory and riches, making investment in him a remarkably shrewd move.
Just then, Alexandra, escorted by the Countess of Debeninac, entered the tea room and curtsied to Queen Mary and Joseph:
"Your Majesty, Queen, Your Royal Highness, Crown Prince," she announced, "I am returning to Petersburg tomorrow and have come to bid you farewell."
Joseph suddenly recalled something and murmured to Talleyrand,
"Prepare a gift selection for the Grand Duchess, similar to the one intended for Duke Zubov."
The young girl would likely find little use for these gifts herself, and they would ultimately serve as promotion for France through her.
Just then, Charles burst in, full of excitement, clearly having just finished his Latin lesson.
The moment the little boy spotted his mother, he swiftly slowed his pace, straightened his back, and advanced with impeccable courtly etiquette to bow.
Then, noticing the young Russian princess, he immediately pulled a handful of macarons from his pocket, pressed them into her hand, and winked. "Sister," he offered,
"These are for you! They're absolutely delicious, you must try them."
In truth, these sweets were inferior to those crafted by the palace's own pastry chefs, but such is the way of children—food from someone else's hand always seems to taste better.
Alexandra, however, politely demurred. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said, "but I rarely indulge in sweets."
Then, with a surprisingly mature expression, she leaned in and whispered, "And I advise you not to eat so many sweets yourself. It will make all your teeth fall out, and I've heard it can even cause your feet to rot."
Charles stared blankly at the macarons in his hand. Then, as if stung by a scorpion, he hurled the sweets to the ground.
And then, he burst into tears with a heartbroken "Wah!"
Joseph thought to himself, 'This little girl is truly disciplined. Children usually find it nearly impossible to resist the allure of sweets.'
He then glanced at his mother, hoping she, too, might heed the advice.
Yet Queen Mary simply drew Charles into her embrace, plucked a macaron from his pocket, took a bite, and smiled faintly.
"My dear," she said gently, "Sasha was only teasing you. These delightful treats are a gift from God; how could they possibly be harmful?"
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