Crown Prince: Wang Ba Dan Won't Make a Single Extra Penny off Me

The Minister of War narrowed his eyes upon hearing this. If the Queen was pulling the strings behind the scenes, then the information reporting the French Guard officers must have been obtained by the Royal House's henchmen— the Secret Police.

They also uncovered the case involving the shelling of Farmhouse.

That certainly makes sense. A woman trying to protect her son is no different from an angry lioness.

He looked at Berthier: "How do you know all this?"

The latter involuntarily shrank back, and mumbled, "General, I naturally have my own unique sources of information."

"The important thing is that I can guarantee the reliability of this information, and I have a way to resolve your problem."

The Marquis of Saint-Priest looked him up and down again, then slowly nodded. "Very well, please tell me, what's your plan?"

Berthier quickly reviewed his speech, feeling like he was facing an exam. To be honest, he didn't like being pushed to the forefront, but the Crown Prince said that he was the most suitable candidate this time, and he had Courage to come here to repay His Highness.

"First, you must quell public opinion as soon as possible."

Saint-Priest nodded. "How exactly do we do it?"

"Announce to the public that the military will severely punish those responsible for the attack on the Crown Prince. Then, take out a few minor figures, give them heavy sentences, and make it a show of it." Berthier awkwardly crossed his fingers and continued, "As for those who shelled the Farmhouse, especially the leader Teodoro, it would be best to hold a public trial to establish the image of impartiality for the Gendarmerie Department."

The Minister of War waved his hand impatiently to interrupt him, "What you've said is very useful, but if people keep reporting officers, this matter will never be over."

Berthier nodded. "Yes, General, and that's where I can be of service."

"What can you do?"

The root of all the problems lies in the Crown Prince's attack and injury. If His Highness can express his forgiveness to the Queen for those French Guard who were "not involved," and given that Bessonval and several officers have been severely punished, Her Majesty the Queen should not pursue the matter any further.

Saint-Priest frowned and said, "His Highness the Crown Prince is still injured and must resent the French Guard. How could he possibly speak up for them?"

"Actually, I am very close to an important figure in the Crown Prince's inner circle," Berthier lied, unable to even look the Minister of War in the eye. "Moreover, he risked his life to protect His Highness during the attack and earned His Highness's praise. If he can help, there's a good chance we can persuade the Crown Prince."

Upon hearing this, Saint-Priest sat bolt upright. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes, General."

Saint-Priest stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "So, may I ask, what do you want?"

Finally, we've gotten to the point!

Berthier took a deep breath and said, "You know, I come from an ordinary background, so I can only do research, and at most manage an Engineer Battalion."

"And I've always wanted to become a real officer, the kind who can command a large army to charge into battle on the battlefield."

"So, I want a group."

Saint-Priest immediately smiled easily, "That's easy, Major Berthier. I remember I was the one who signed off on your transfer to Paris, so just sign your commission for promotion to regimental commander again. Oh, I should address you as Lieutenant Colonel Berthier now."

Berthier immediately replied, "General, please let me finish speaking."

"Oh? Is there anything else you require?"

"Um, what I want is an elite force."

"Sure." Compared to the huge trouble at hand, the commander of an elite regiment was completely unconcerned about Saint-Priest.

"For example, elite units like the French Guard," Berthier said, rubbing his hands together. "And ideally, I'd be able to select the soldiers myself."

Saint-Priest frowned slightly; this junior officer was really impolite.

However, he immediately realized that the reputation of the French Guard was now completely ruined, and their garrison had even been moved to Moret-Loing-et-Orvanne, so they would probably soon become a second-rate force.

Fine, let him choose whatever he wants.

So he nodded again. "I can agree to that."

After finalizing all the details, Berthier stood up to take his leave.

The Marquis of Saint-Priest escorted him to the door, then suddenly asked, "Lieutenant Colonel, could you tell me who that person behind you is?"

Judging from Berthier's demeanor and the power he exuded, he was likely just a mouthpiece for some important figure.

"General, please wait for my good news." Berthier bowed and immediately climbed into the Carriage.

The Minister of War watched the departing Carriage and muttered to himself, "Was that General Custine? No, he shouldn't have that much influence in Paris."

"Or is it Baron de Breteuil? Berthier was recommended by him."

"Or perhaps, it's the Queen herself..."

He immediately smiled and shook his head. If the Queen had such a plan, France wouldn't be in this state now.

Joseph, leaning against the hospital bed, listened to Berthier finish speaking, then suddenly frowned. "He agreed so quickly?"

"Yes, Your Highness, you agreed to them almost without hesitation."

Joseph slapped his thigh, his face full of regret. "This means the price was too low! You'll have to go again tomorrow..."

After explaining the matter of "raising prices on the spot," he instructed Berthier, "I will have Major Diboa bring people from the Police Academy to help you select soldiers."

"We do not want any officers who are of Nobility birth or who have been bought with money."

"Those with a history of violating military discipline or committing crimes will not be accepted."

"Remember to take all the military horses and weapons. Take as many clothes, tents, and other military supplies as you can; don't be shy."

Berthier stared wide-eyed at the Crown Prince, sensing he had a natural talent for banditry...

As night fell, Joseph gazed at the stars outside his window, carefully going through all the people he needed to deal with in his mind.

He needs to find Marat a new "prey," otherwise the latter will keep a close eye on the officers of the French Guard until he tears them to shreds.

Joseph doesn't need to completely break ties with the military Nobility for the time being. His goals have always been to acquire the elite of the French Guard and to bring down Bessonval and other members of the Orleans faction.

Now that the goals have been largely achieved, it's time to call it a day. With the arrival of the Prince of Paris's Flanders Brigade and the exile of Bessonval, that traitor, to Seychelles, the historical situation where garrison troops stood by and did nothing during Paris riots will not be repeated.

"The Duke of Orléans?"

Joseph shook his head. This guy had too deep a foundation; even if they found something on him, it wouldn't be easy to take action.

"Those high-ranking Nobility in the Assembly of Notables who still want a share of power?"

The targets are too numerous and too scattered, and Marat and his team are currently short-handed, so the results won't be very good.

Today is the last day of 2023, and I'm feeling a bit nostalgic. I also hope that everyone will have a better and better 2024!

I love you all! Mwah!

(End of this chapter)