Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Brian sighed, "Your Highness, but what if they don’t cooperate with you? Especially after this recent turmoil, they’ll surely feel that keeping their money in the bank is not safe enough..."

Joseph laughed and waved his hand, "Then it’s not up to them."

Two hours later, the carriage stopped in the Marble Courtyard.

As soon as Joseph got out of the carriage, he heard someone outside the Palace of Versailles shouting loudly, "For the financial stability of France, the interrogation of Necker must be stopped!"

"Please, Your Majesty, grant us your mercy and leniency!"

"If banks keep going bankrupt, I’ll never dare to buy government bonds again..."

"Right, and government loans too! We’ve got to hold tight to our own purses!"

Joseph looked at those excited nobles, couldn’t help but chuckle, and signaled to Brian beside him, "Archbishop Brian, the door is about to be blocked by them, let us go to the Petit Trianon Palace first."

"Alright, Your Highness."

No sooner had they walked a short distance when they saw a plump figure, with wavy hair bouncing, trotting towards them.

"Count Mono?" Brian halted.

The Minister of the Interior bowed to Joseph and Brian in turn, then hesitated and said, "Your Highness, where are you going? I have some suggestions I’d like to discuss with you."

Joseph smiled, "We’re going to see Queen Mary. You can join us. Oh, what is it you want to discuss?"

Mono hurried to catch up, with an apologetic smile, "Your Highness, regarding Necker’s case, perhaps it might be better to postpone it for a while."

"Oh? Why?"

"Look, many nobles will suffer huge losses because of this. You have to be their advocate, right? This is definitely a good opportunity to enhance the prestige of the Royal Family."

Joseph glanced at him but said nothing.

Mono rambled on for a while, realizing he couldn’t bluff his way through, and could only wring his plump hands and laugh dryly:

"Your Highness, actually, I also have some investments in Klassen Bank.

"Of course, I’ve already requested to withdraw the money, but as you know, the bank needs 20 days to raise the funds. If we could continue with Necker’s case after 20 days..."

"How much did you invest?"

"Ah, it was over 700,000 livres."

Joseph rubbed his forehead and said coldly, "You know how much of an impact Necker’s affair has. At this time, is it your choice to support me or your 700,000?"

Mono’s forehead beaded with sweat as he said with difficulty, "Of, of course I support you. You know I always follow your orders. But the bank..."

"That’s good." Joseph gestured towards the Petit Trianon Palace, "Come with me later to persuade Queen Mary."

"Ah? Persuade Her Majesty about what?"

"To step forward and establish the ’French Industrial Development Fund’."

One hour later.

Queen Mary looked at the three men before her, finally turning to Brian and said, "Are you sure this ’Industrial Development Fund’ will keep those people outside from bothering me?"

Brian hurriedly responded, "Yes, Your Majesty, I guarantee it."

Joseph added, "It will also significantly reduce the national debt."

The opinions of two Cabinet Ministers, highly trusted by the two Queens, convinced her, and she finally nodded, "Then fine, do it as you say. After all, it doesn’t require any government money."

She furrowed her brows slightly, "However, what Archbishop Brian just said about those ’funds,’ ’bonds,’ and the like is a bit complicated, I’m not certain if I can remember it all by morning."

Joseph immediately interjected, "I can assist you with that."

The Queen immediately smiled and touched his head, "Dear, your mind is always so sharp, I’m simply green with envy. You shall explain it tomorrow then."

When the three of them came out from the Petit Trianon Palace, Joseph gestured to Brian, "Archbishop Brian, then please trouble you to announce to the nobles as discussed earlier."

"Very well, Your Highness."

Brian left, and Joseph turned to Mono, "To be honest, I never expected you would disrupt my arrangement for a bit of money."

Mono was startled and hurriedly said, "Your Highness, please forgive me, I didn’t mean to..."

Joseph raised his hand to interrupt him, "Rest assured, your money will not be less, and it will even become more. Especially your shares in the Bank of France Reserve, the future profits will be enough for you to live in luxury for a lifetime."

He left the Minister of the Interior with a bewildered face and hurried towards Louis XVI’s workshop.

The King was much easier to talk to than Queen Mary. Joseph took just over ten minutes to persuade him to attend the "Industrial Development Fund" briefing tomorrow.

In fact, during those ten minutes, more than half of the time was spent helping Sixteen overcome the fear he would face when confronting dozens or hundreds of people.

...

North Africa.

In a fortress-like prison to the east of the Mitidja area of Algiers.

Charles listlessly piled the dust on the ground into a small castle, occasionally turning his head to look at the tiny air vent behind him.

The sunlight seeping in through it let him know that he had been locked up in this damned place for a full eight months. Explore new worlds at NovelBin.Côm

The shipmates who had been captured with him had already been ransomed one by one or had turned into corpses.

Only he had not been able to return.

Not because no one cared about him, quite the contrary, because, as the first mate of the "Golden Wheat," he had become the most valuable person on the ship after the captain had died in the pirate attack that day.

To be honest, he didn’t like his "noble" price at all, because it meant the Congress couldn’t come up with enough money to ransom him.

The sound of dragging footsteps came from the end of the gloomy corridor. Charles hurriedly lay on the ground and peered through a crack in the wall towards the neighboring cell. It was empty.

He became somewhat anxious, kicked the bars of the cell fiercely, and then lowered his voice to call out, "Ali! Ali, the guard is coming, did you hear me?"

As the legs of the owner of the dragging footsteps appeared from the shadows, a corner of the bed in the neighboring cell was pushed open, and a stalwart middle-aged man with a beard poked his head out.

The man moved swiftly, "hissed" through a hole beneath the bed in one second, covered the hole with debris, and posed as if seated on the bed.

The guard happened to walk up to Ali’s cell door, glanced indifferently inside, and shoved a piece of dry bread and a bowl of yellow-green soup, the ingredients of which were unknown, through the small opening under the cell door.

He then delivered the same lunch to Charles and lazily walked on to the next cell.

Charles lay on the ground looking towards the neighboring cell, saw the bearded man eagerly eating the dry bread, and finally breathed a sigh of relief, "Hey! Can you be a little more alert? I thought I would never be able to talk to you again."

Ali, speaking English with a strange accent, laughed, "Don’t worry, I always know the position of the guards. I was just trying to work a bit longer."

"Oh, but you’ll have to find someone else to chat with in the future."

"Find someone else?" Charles sat up in surprise, "What’s wrong with you? Are you going to be hanged?"

"Look at what you’re saying?" Ali grumbled while chewing the bread, lowering his voice, "In three days or less, I’ll be able to escape."

"Someone is willing to pay the ransom for you?" Charles felt somewhat sad, "But congratulations to you. Although besides you, there’s no one else here who speaks English to talk to me. I’ll miss you."

Ali grimaced, "No one is paying for me. But my tunnel is about to break through."

"A tunnel? Haha," Charles laughed, "Do you really think it’s possible to escape from this hellish place by digging a tunnel?

"This is the most well-guarded prison in Algiers!"

He once again lay down to get closer to the crack in the wall, "Do you know? Even the Pasha of Tunisia was locked up here. Oh, they say in some cell upstairs. Do you think just because you’ve been digging for two months, you can escape from here? Haha."

Ali muttered disdainfully, "Obviously you’ve never lived in Mitidja."

"Yeah, I’m American, it’s my first time here," Charles shrugged, "Invited by the warm and hospitable pirate gentlemen."

"So you don’t know, the Pasha of Tunisia escaped more than a decade ago. The guards in this prison are fools, it’s easy to slip away."

"What? He escaped?" Charles’s eyes widened, "How is that possible?"

"Everyone in Mitidja knows about it," Ali gestured upwards, "The one locked there is a fake, to fool the Guard during inspections."