A thief in the night

After a full morning of Cabinet Meeting, several ministers were already showing signs of fatigue.

Queen Mary was about to announce a temporary recess, to continue after lunch, when Brienne preemptively said, "There's one last item on the agenda."

The Queen sighed inwardly, and after lifting her bottom only half an inch, she fell back down onto the chair.

Brienne looked at Mono: "Count Monod believes that, given the current poor state of the Textile, steel, and Glass industries, special personnel should be appointed to manage these industries in an effort to turn things around."

Queen Mary was too tired to think, so she asked the Chief Minister directly, "Archbishop Brienne, what do you think should be done?"

This matter had been discussed beforehand. Brienne immediately said, "Your Majesty, I suggest establishing Industrial Planning Bureau to specifically oversee the aforementioned industries. This would free Count Monod from these matters, allowing him to focus his energy on better News Censorship."

The Queen didn't seem to think it was a big deal and nodded, saying, "Then, who do you think should be in charge of this department?"

Joseph had been waiting for these words. He stood up and said, "Your Her Majesty the Queen, leave it to me. Hmm, this should be a good opportunity for training."

Royal Palace.

The Duke of Orléans looked at the British Ambassador to France with great puzzlement. "Are you saying that you had already communicated with the Crown Prince about trade negotiations?"

"That's true." Hartley nodded with a smile.

"So, do you know what he said at the Cabinet Meeting?" The Duke of Orléans sneered. "He wanted United Kingdom to lower the Tariff on France wine imports to below 10%, haha, he's joking..."

Hartley hesitated for a moment, then replied truthfully, "Duke Grace, as far as I know, the British Parliament has agreed to this request in principle and has instructed me to finalize a negotiation schedule with your country as soon as possible."

The Duke of Orléans was stunned. "How could you agree to such conditions?"

As he was speaking, he suddenly heard Guard shouting from outside the door, "Grab him! He ran that way!"

"Send a few men to block him in the corridor! God, he's like a cunning squirrel!"

"Ah--"

"Watch out! His swordsmanship is formidable..."

The butler hurried in, then immediately locked the door behind him. He then patted the Duke of Orléans on the chest and said, "My lord, a thief has slipped in. The Guard are surrounding him. You are safe here."

The Duke of Orléans frowned, but he wasn't surprised. The Royal Palace received all sorts of people every day, making it easy for thieves to sneak in. He was just curious, however, that despite the commotion, the Guard hadn't caught the thief yet.

Before long, a Guard entered, panting, and knocked on the door to report to the steward.

The latter hurriedly said to the Duke of Orléans, "My lord, the thief seems to have stolen something from your Archives and just ran out of the Royal Palace."

"That damned bastard!" Orleans' face immediately darkened. There were many important documents in the Archives, but it was heavily guarded. How could a thief have managed to steal them?!

He immediately ordered, "Send more men! We must capture him!"

"Yes, sir."

Soon, more than a hundred fully armed Guard filed out of the Royal Palace and disappeared into the last rays of the setting sun.

Five Carriage sped along the wide cobblestone street of Rue Saint-Honoré.

This is the Crown Prince's "moving" convoy.

Yes, Joseph found himself with far too much to do after taking over industrial management, and that traveling between Paris and Versailles Palace every day would waste a lot of time.

So he simply bought a house in the Louvre Palace District of Paris to serve as the office of the "France Industrial Planning Bureau." He then moved all his daily necessities and office supplies there, intending to live there permanently.

Inside the Carriage, Joseph was silently pondering how to obtain a large sum of "food funds" in a short period of time.

He had previously calculated that, based on a 30% food shortage, even if food prices remained stable, at least 60 Livre of grain would be needed to barely survive until 1788.

This doesn't even include the expenses for building granaries and losses.

As for 1789, it's very likely that even foreign countries would have difficulty buying food, given that this was a global climate anomaly that caused large-scale Famine from Europe to Asia.

If the Famine problem is not solved, the starving people will only have one path left: Great Revolution...

Joseph's first thought was to take out a loan, but given the French Government's current Finance credit, it would be extremely difficult to borrow so much money in a short period of time. And even if he could get a loan, the interest rate would certainly be terrifyingly high.

Secondly, there's the issuance of government bonds... well, the Minister of Finance would have sold off any government bonds that were actually available long ago; he wouldn't keep any for himself.

Making money by developing new technologies is not only unrealistic, but also time-consuming.

Therefore, you have to make quick money, and it has to be big money...

Just as his brain was working at full speed, he suddenly heard the sound of Musket in the distance, followed by a cacophony of voices, and the Carriage slowed down immediately.

A short while later, a Guard reported from outside the carriage window, "Your Highness, it looks like they're catching a thief up ahead."

"Catching thieves? And firing so many shots?" Joseph asked, puzzled. "Was it a gang of thieves?"

"No, Your Highness," the Guard said, "It's said there was only one person."

"One person causing such a big commotion?" Joseph asked again. "Is it the Police making an arrest?"

The Guard shook his head. "It's the Royal Palace Guard, Your Highness."

The Duke of Orléans's men?

Several more gunshots rang out in the distance, Eman quickly ordered the coachman to retreat and get away from this dangerous place.

Just as the convoy turned into the alley next to it, a dark figure suddenly leaped lightly down from the rooftop on the right.

The shadowy figure used the windowsill to slow down, and as the Carriage passed by, he suddenly smashed the window open and leaped inside with Lightning speed.

He braced himself with his left hand on the small wooden table inside the car, quickly regaining his balance. At the same time, by the candlelight, he confirmed that there were only two people in the car, one of whom was a harmless teenager.

He moved with lightning speed; the moment his feet touched the ground, his right hand had already drawn a short knife from his waist and slashed at the Blond Man in the car.

He didn't intend to kill anyone; instead, he planned to use a knife to hold the man hostage, threatening him to lead him out of the encirclement.

However, before "his" knife had traveled even a finger's width, a flash of cold light appeared in the man's hand, and a short sword was already pressed against "his" throat.

The Blond Man said in a deep voice, "Don't move, or you'll die!"

The shadowy figure paused, the short knife in his hand already snatched away by the Blond Man.

"Guard..."

Just as the Blond Man was about to call for help, the boy sitting opposite him raised his hand to stop him, and then asked the Black-clad Man who had barged in, "Weren't the people from the Royal Palace chasing you just now?"

(End of this chapter)