Chapter 849: Surpassing the Sun King
October 27th.
Paris.
A crimson carpet was rolled out across the Boulevard Saint-Michel, stretching all the way to the Place Saint-Michel.
The Swiss Guard, dressed in their white uniforms with red trim, stood at attention along both sides of the road, gripping their halberds firmly.
Behind them stood an ocean of Parisian citizens. On this day, no one in Paris had any other business; almost the entire population had converged here to welcome the Crown Prince back to the city.
Many had been waiting in line for two days just to secure a small spot to stand.
Even those in the back, twenty rows deep and unable to see the road clearly, had been waiting since the early hours of the previous morning.
At ten in the morning, amidst the continuous roar of ceremonial cannons, the crowd began to lean forward in excitement, craning their necks to look into the distance.
Far down the road, a formation of over fifty military musicians marched forward with heads held high.
Suddenly, a thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd as they caught sight of the Crown Prince, surrounded by hundreds of personal guards.
"Long live the Crown Prince!" "May God bless His Highness!" The shouts echoed one after another. Many people even began rhythmically beating on brass basins, mimicking the drumbeats of the Guards Corps.
As Joseph advanced slowly, the people on both sides bowed in respect. This time, unlike before, they did so not just out of prescribed etiquette, but out of unparalleled admiration and worship for the young man before them.
News of the French army's great victory in Luxembourg had long since spread through every street and alley. Along with it, the public delighted in discussing the triumphs in the Southern Netherlands, Italy, and the Mediterranean naval battles.
It had been a long time since the French people had been able to celebrate such resounding victories with such pride.
Their Crown Prince had led his armies to victory across almost the entire periphery of France, from east to west.
And every single one was a win!
Falling before the Crown Prince's sword were the great powers of the world—Austria, Prussia, and Britain—along with smaller additions like Sardinia, the Netherlands, and Bavaria.
This record was something even the Sun King would have found hard to match.
How could the people not be driven to a frenzy by such achievements?
In the middle of the Boulevard Saint-Michel, Archbishop Beaumont waited respectfully for the Crown Prince. Behind him, eight senior deacons carried a reliquary containing the remains of Saint Louis—a ceremonial ritual reserved only for events of the utmost importance.
Joseph felt a headache brewing from the deafening cheers and the clatter of drums, but he remained spirited, waving to the crowds on all sides.
When he reached the reliquary, he pulled on the reins to stop his horse. A nearby priest hurriedly whispered the ritual steps to him.
Joseph sighed inwardly, silently calculating the cost of the several kilometers of carpet and the flowers lining the road. 'I wonder how much of my budget this is going to consume,' he thought. He then dismounted, stepped forward, and kissed the fleur-de-lis emblem on the corner of the reliquary.
Behind him, his hundreds of guards fired a simultaneous volley into the air. The onlookers shouted even harder, many not even noticing their voices had gone hoarse.
With that, the Crown Prince's procession continued on its way.
It wasn't until Joseph reached the Louvre Palace and transferred to a carriage that he finally rubbed his ringing ears and let out a long breath of relief.
However, he didn't have much time to rest, as another grand celebration awaited him at the Palace of Versailles.
On the plaza of Versailles, Queen Mary saw her son's slightly thinned face from a distance and immediately disregarded all etiquette, hurrying forward to meet him.
Joseph quickly bowed in greeting. Before he could even straighten up, the Queen pulled him into a tight embrace. She then stepped back half a pace, looking him up and down while fretting incessantly.
"I heard that in Luxembourg, you led tens of thousands of cavalry to clash with the Prussians, weaving back and forth through the fire of over a hundred cannons. Even that old Duke of Brunswick led his guards to duel you..."
"Oh, thank God you weren't injured. Otherwise, I would have been drowned in sorrow and self-reproach forever..."
Joseph didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wondered who had been spreading these rumors to the Queen; the stories were being spun into something more exaggerated than a Hollywood blockbuster.
He quickly smiled and comforted his mother. "Don't listen to their nonsense. It wasn't that dangerous at all. The closest I ever got to the enemy was over half a mile away."
Queen Mary clearly didn't believe him. She took her son's arm and walked toward the main entrance of Versailles, sternly reminding him that he must never be so reckless on the battlefield again.
Louis XVI also wanted to say a few words to his son, but he glanced at the sea of nobles surrounding them and lowered his head, silently following behind his wife and child.
As Joseph walked through the corridor of cheering nobles, he overheard some of them gossiping.
"That day, the Crown Prince led twenty thousand Hussars in a charge all the way from Wiltz to Diekirch..."
"Baron Montmorency, you must be mistaken. It was thirty thousand Hussars."
"Absolutely thirty thousand. I heard it too. They broke through fourteen Prussian defensive lines in a single day!"
"It's true. Over seventy thousand Prussian soldiers were driven into Our River. Their bodies were so numerous they blocked the flow of the water..."
"Do you know what the most incredible part was? There were over two hundred 12-pounder cannons—oh, perhaps they were 18-pounders, I can't recall—lying in ambush along the path of His Highness's charge. They opened fire all at once!"
A young noble nearby immediately chimed in. "And all those cannonballs just grazed His Highness as they flew by. Not a single one could harm him. In the end, His Highness commanded the cavalry to capture every last one of those cannons..."
Dozens of nobles around them crossed themselves. "Truly a miracle from God."
"The Lord will always protect the Son of Divine Favor!"
Joseph felt so embarrassed he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. These rumor-mongers weren't just following Hollywood style; they were writing like Bollywood screenwriters.
It wasn't until they entered the banquet hall that Queen Mary finally finished her lecture on safety.
She pulled Joseph down to sit beside her, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. "By the way, dear, I have the most wonderful gift in the world for you. Hmm, why don't you guess what it is?"
Joseph played along, putting on a look of deep thought. "Could it be... a strawberry honey cake?"
Queen Mary laughed, fluttering her folding fan. "Camelia mentioned in her letter that the desserts I sent last time were making you lose sleep from worry. I'll have them make you cashew crisps from now on; she said you like those."
"Oh, but let's talk about the gift first."
"Then, perhaps a purebred horse..." Joseph shook his head before he even finished. "I really can't guess. Please just tell me, Mother. What is it?"
Queen Mary leaned in closer, her face filled with pride.
"It is that princess you like so much—the one who is beautiful, dignified, and gentle."
"A few months ago, I helped you propose to Her Majesty Catherine the Great. And she has already agreed to marry her granddaughter to you."
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