Chapter 889: Preparing to Marry Off My Sister
Pius VI saw that the French Crown Prince remained unmoved, staring at his teacup with an air of cold indifference. The Pope's voice began to tremble slightly.
"At most... I will add Ravenna."
He spread his hands wide. "This is already the Holy See's bottom line, Your Highness."
Ferrara, Bologna, and Ravenna represented nearly seventy percent of the Papal States' territory north of the Apennine Mountains. Coupled with 1.2 million ducats—roughly 11 million francs—it was a substantial sum for war reparations.
"This tea lacks flavor," Joseph remarked, suddenly swirling the liquid in his cup. "Eman, please bring the black tea that Archbishop Muzzarelli sent over."
"At once, Your Highness."
Joseph turned back to the Pope. "Would you like to switch to a new cup as well? You see, while this tea is quite rare and expensive, it is by no means irreplaceable."
Pius VI felt as though every word the young man uttered was a mountain pressing down on his shoulders, threatening to snap his spine.
After a long silence, he suddenly clenched his fists and raised his head, his voice rising in volume. "No one will support that traitor, that conspirator! I alone represent the legitimacy of the Holy See! If you continue to press me like this, France will face the hostility of over a hundred million Christians across all of Europe!"
He leaned forward slightly and asked with calm detachment, "My esteemed Holy Father, tell me... how many divisions do you have?"
"Wh-what?"
"Infantry, cavalry, artillery," Joseph clarified. "Including the Holy See's own guards and any foreign armies willing to answer your call—count them all. How many divisions?"
Pius VI was stunned by the bluntness of the question. He gripped his fists tighter, only to realize with a sickening jolt that the Holy See could not summon a single division.
Of the three traditional pillars supporting the Roman Curia, Spain was in an alliance with France and had recently declared it would not interfere in North Italian affairs. Austria was on the verge of losing even Mantua; they had no strength left to reinforce Rome. As for France... it was the French army currently training their cannons on the Papal States.
Joseph picked up his fresh cup of black tea and continued, "You have likely forgotten that the Holy See's ability to rally the Christians of Europe is predicated on its ability to influence the balance of power between Catholic nations. Currently, no such balance exists. France is the heaviest weight on the Catholic scales! France alone possesses the power to sway the Catholic world! You said no one would support Archbishop Muzzarelli? In truth, if he had ten divisions standing behind him, every single Cardinal would support him."
The Pope's clenched fists slowly relaxed. His shoulders slumped once more as he let out a long, weary sigh. "What... what kind of terms did he offer you?"
Joseph took a sip of tea and replied casually, "1.5 million ducats. Furthermore, the Holy See would retain only the provinces of Rome and Perugia."
Pius VI's face turned ashen. His lips moved several times before a sound finally emerged. "1.5 million... Fine, 1.5 million ducats it is. But at the very least, the Holy See must retain the Patrimony of Saint Peter."
The "Patrimony of Saint Peter" referred to the lands the Church claimed to have inherited from the Roman Empire, primarily consisting of the provinces of Rome, Perugia, and Terracina. It comprised roughly two-thirds of the Papal States' territory on the southern side of the Apennine Mountains.
Joseph thought to himself that he was being quite polite. In the original history, Napoleon had simply marched his army through and left the Pope with nothing but the city of Rome, and the Holy See had been forced to accept it. Yet here was the Pope trying to haggle.
He glanced at Pius VI. "Archbishop Muzzarelli shouldn't have gone far. I could easily have him attend the court banquet instead."
"No... I agree."
In truth, Joseph could have forced the Holy See to relocate to Avignon in France immediately, but such a move might have pushed Pius VI into a fight to the death. One must eat a meal one bite at a time.
Everything Joseph was doing now was aimed at eroding the prestige of the Roman Curia. Once the Italian states had tasted the benefits of carving up the Papal States and the Holy See was thoroughly weakened, he could implement the next phase of his plan to make them move to Avignon willingly.
A short while later, the King and Queen of France, the Crown Prince, and a large retinue of nobles escorted the Pope into the banquet hall. Every face wore a mask of pious smiles, creating an image of solemnity and divine grace. Since the deal was struck, Joseph was willing to grant the Pope his basic dignity.
During the banquet, Pius VI publicly announced that the Holy See had decided to bestow upon Louis XVI the title of "Most Catholic King."
The Pope appeared deeply preoccupied during his visit to Paris and hurried back to Rome the following afternoon. However, for his departure, he was provided with a luxurious gold carriage, and the Paris Police no longer shadowed his every move.
Most citizens of Paris didn't even realize the Pope had visited until several days later. Meanwhile, the sight of the Pope's disheveled state in the square of the Palace of Versailles became an enduring joke among the nobility.
Two days later.
A grand ceremony was held at Versailles to celebrate His Majesty's investiture as the "Most Catholic King." All of Paris descended into a state of revelry. Citizens sang and danced, setting off fireworks as the tension and anxiety brought on by the war vanished instantly.
As evening fell, a ball began at the Palace of Versailles. Gas lamps illuminated the Hall of Mirrors, making it as bright as day. The court musicians played lively dance tunes with all their might. As the nobles spun incessantly, the jewels and gold thread on their attire turned into a flowing river of stars, dazzling all who watched.
The royal family members and diplomats from the North Italian states, however, had no interest in dancing. Instead, they hovered around the French Crown Prince with expectant faces, hoping to catch even a crumb of good news.
Ever since the signing of the Mediterranean Security Organization Agreement, they had remained in Paris for nearly two months. For these nations, maintaining good relations with France was the most critical matter of state.
As a song ended, Prince Ludovico of Parma plucked up his courage and approached the Crown Prince. Raising his glass, he bowed slightly. "A toast to our Most Catholic King."
Joseph picked up a glass of wine and tapped it against his. "To my dearest father."
He took a small sip and gestured toward Princess Thérèse, who was surrounded by young noblewomen not far away. He winked at Ludovico. "You don't seem to have invited my sister to dance yet. She might be quite saddened by that."
Ludovico froze for a moment, his eyes quickly filling with ecstatic joy. "Your Highness, you... you don't object to my pursuit of Princess Thérèse?"
"Of course not," Joseph said with a smile. "You have my blessing."
Ludovico was a handsome, refined young man, and Joseph had a favorable impression of him. More importantly, his sister Thérèse liked him. The genuine smile that lit up the girl's face whenever she saw him was impossible to hide.
Joseph knew that the marriage options for a French princess were extremely narrow; the suitor had to be the heir to a nation. Currently, there were no more than three people in all of Europe who met that criteria and were of an appropriate age. Among them were those from nations that could not form a marriage alliance with France due to political considerations.
Thus, Ludovico was essentially the best possible choice for Thérèse.
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