United as one

An hour later, a black Carriage drove out of Mono's Villa through the back door, with a large stack of cloth now on its roof.

The car drove around the city a few more times before finally returning to the Royal Palace around 10 p. m.

The Duke of Orléans, his entire body Hood in black, unloaded the fabric from the carriage like Servant, bowing his head as he carried it into the Warehouse. Only when there was no one else around except his personal Guard did he carefully return to his Bedroom.

In his Study, he recalled the whole strategy Mono had told him before. He first took out paper and pen and wrote a secret letter to the Paris Municipal Commissioner Le Verber and the Governor of Montpellier Province, Parmontier, and then sealed them with his personal seal Sealing Wax.

Then, he took out another piece of paper and thoughtfully wrote down names one by one: Duke of Seville, Earl of Serulier, Duke of Dourfo, Duke of Mouchy...

Anyone familiar with Nobility circles would immediately recognize this list as Assembly of Notables figures from "outdated" political forces.

Although these people lost the last Royal Tax Reform Act incident, as top Nobility, they still possess considerable influence.

In addition, the people on this list share another characteristic: they are the group most affected by the Mill Owner's Rights Act and the decline in land prices caused by immigration to Tunisia, as Mono said.

After the Duke of Orléans finished writing, he checked the names repeatedly before handing the list and the secret letter to his steward, Donadier, and giving him some careful instructions.

Two days later, Paris.

At a vast greyhound racing track right next to the south bank of the Seine River, a race was underway. The arena was filled with the sounds of dogs barking and dust flying as more than a dozen slender racing dogs raced toward the finish line like a whirlwind.

The Grandstand were filled with distinguished Nobility —invitations to this place weren't something just anyone could get.

In the VIP room on the second floor on the west side of the Grandstand, there were more than twenty people crammed in. They all watched the game indifferently, seemingly uninterested.

After a long while, a tall, thin man wearing Gem- blue long coat and with a cold look in his eyes opened the door to the VIP room and stepped in.

The people in the VIP room turned around and saw him, and immediately stood up and bowed:

"You've finally arrived, Your Grace, Duke of Duke of Orléans."

"Oh, Philip, my old friend, what brings you in such a hurry to see us?"

"Duke Grace, why don't we just go to the Royal Palace? This awful place is giving me a headache..."

The Duke of Orléans handed his hat to a slightly younger Nobility beside him, smiling and nodding to the crowd.

"The Royal Palace is under heavy surveillance and is no longer suitable for gatherings. Here, however, we can speak freely."

He also had many people working in intelligence. His repeated setbacks in the political struggles over the past year made him suspicious, so he ordered his residence to be thoroughly searched. They actually discovered that someone was closely monitoring Royal Palace.

Those were naturally the people from the Police Intelligence Division that Joseph had arranged. How could he not keep a close eye on the Duke of Orléans, this scourge?

However, the Duke of Orléans, being a seasoned schemer, had his own countermeasures. For example, at this dog racing track today, nearly a hundred Nobility of high status were present, only a small portion of whom were his targets for meeting. Meanwhile, agents from the Police Intelligence Division without invitations were unable to infiltrate.

That way, no one would know who he actually met. In reality, he just looked like he was there to gamble on dogs.

The Duke of Orléans sat down in the middle chair, but instead of discussing "business," he casually remarked to Earl of Serulier, "Brouzard, I've heard you've recently lost tax revenue from seven or eight mills; that's a real shame."

The latter was taken aback, not understanding why he brought this up, but clearly angered. "That damned law! The Mill Tax is a traditional right we've had for thousands of years; no one has the right to take it away!"

"Oh, but His Majesty the King did just that."

The Duke of Orléans made a sarcastic remark, then looked at the old man beside him. "Duke of Dourfo, with the recent downturn in land prices, you must have lost a lot of money, right?"

"Probably five or six hundred Livre."

The Duke of Dourfo owned thousands of hectares of land, and the drop in land prices had a significant impact on him.

The two men's plight evoked a sense of shared misfortune among everyone in the VIP room, prompting them to complain that they too had suffered significant losses.

The Duke of Orléans immediately raised his hand to signal them to be quiet, and with a serious expression, said in a deep voice, "Haven't you all realized yet? The Royal House is abandoning us!"

"Everyone remembers the Tax Law from the beginning of the year, right? We were ruthlessly stripped of our jurisdiction over the High Court, and we have to pay tens of thousands, or even hundreds of Livre Land Tax every year."

"To pay the same taxes as those lowly commoners is an insult to the Royal House!"

The surrounding Nobility immediately nodded in agreement, "This is a betrayal of tradition and honor!"

"That's right, the Royal House really went too far!"

"You'll see, they'll definitely levy even more taxes on us in the future."

The Duke of Orléans was pleased with this reaction and continued, "As everyone can see, those nouveau riche in Textile and Papermaking are the new darlings of the Royal House! We, on the other hand, will be thrown into the trash heap like worn-out boots."

"Those newly built Workshop are drawing farmers to the cities. Sooner or later, your tenant farmers will all flee, the land will be left uncultivated, and you won't be able to collect even a single coin of your Annual Tribute!"

The highly respected Duke of Mouchy finally spoke up at the Assembly of Notables: "Duke of Orléans, what are your plans after all this?"

Seeing everyone looking at him expectantly, the Duke of Orléans clenched his fist and said, "We must put some pressure on the Royal House and make our Emperor understand that he must respect traditional institutions and the Nobility!"

He lowered his voice. "Now is a good opportunity to teach the Royal House a lesson. I hope you can all unite and fight for our own rights!"

"As you know, since the beginning of winter, there has been a severe food shortage across the country. If we do this, and then this again..."

After he finished speaking, everyone in the VIP room exchanged bewildered glances. One Nobility hesitated and said, "Is this feasible? I mean, regarding the Tax Law, we..."

"Rest assured," said the Duke of Orléans. "Other forces will cooperate with us this time, and everyone will see that soon. Moreover, you don't need to invest anything; you can simply return to your territories. Even if we ultimately fail, you won't suffer any losses."

The Duke of Dourfo was the first to stand up, placing his hand on the Duke of Orléans' chest. "I will stand firmly on your side."

Several more people then expressed their agreement, until Duke of Mouchy slowly nodded. "This is necessary to uphold our traditions and honor."

The other Nobility immediately echoed, "Yes! For tradition and honor!"

"The Royal House needs to understand some things!"

"Duke of Orléans, I will obey your will..."

The VIP room was immediately filled with a sense of unity and determination.

Petit Trianon, Queen Mary, her face contorted with rage, handed a letter of denunciation to the Chief Minister, Brienne: "Take a look! The Marquis of Saint-Viran is eroding the very foundations of the nation!"

Brienne opened the letter with surprise and saw that it exposed the Marquis of Saint-Viran's embezzlement of public funds, the soldiers' inability to maintain normal training due to poor food, and his purchase of old weapons to pass off as new weapons, thereby pocketing huge price differences.

The last signature is Garon Ginard de Le Verber, the Paris Municipal Commissioner.

Brienne hesitated, then said, "Your Majesty, perhaps there is some misunderstanding. Should we send someone to investigate further?"

"I knew it! That's why his campaign in North Africa was so slow – his troops were both understaffed and poorly trained!" Queen Mary, already looking for a reason to punish the Marquis of Saint-Viran, was not about to let the matter rest. "How could such an incompetent officer command an army of tens of thousands?"

"I believe he must be severely punished so that he will remember his duty!"

Brienne knew that the Marquis of Saint-Viran was a highly influential military Aristocratic Family in the South, and it was not advisable to act rashly against him. He quickly advised, "Your Majesty, this is, after all, only Viscount Le Verber's side of the story..."

He was speaking when the Queen's maid knocked and entered, handing her a letter sealed with Sealing Wax: "Your Majesty, it was just sent by Montpellier."

Queen Mary frowned, opened the letter, glanced at it, and a cold smile immediately appeared on her lips. She then shoved the letter into Brienne: "Read it yourself."

The latter hurriedly turned the letter over and saw that it was the Governor of the Montpellier Province exposing a series of corrupt acts by the Marquis of Saint-Viran. Presumably because Montpellier was the garrison of the Saint-Viran Legion, the accusations were more detailed.

"This... but, Your Majesty..."

Queen Mary, her face grim, waved her hand to interrupt him, "Archbishop Brienne, please draft an order for me immediately, severely reprimanding the Marquis of Saint-Viran for embezzlement, disregard for military discipline, and dereliction of duty. Order him to immediately reduce the size of his legion to its actual number of soldiers, return the embezzled funds, and deduct half a year's salary!"

At this time, the majority of the funding for the old-style France army came from Military Service Tax directly withheld by the army commanders from their garrisons. The court also provided high-ranking officers with substantial annuities to help them support their troops.

However, the problem of soldiers receiving salaries without working was extremely serious in the French Army. In some units, the number of vacancies exceeded one-third. Not to mention pensions, most of the Military Service Tax ended up in the hands of military Nobility. Soldiers' salaries were received from officers, creating a situation where soldiers were almost personally dependent on their officers.

Now that Queen Mary wants to reduce the size of the Marquis of Marquis of Saint-Viran, the amount of Military Service Tax allocated to him will be greatly reduced. Coupled with the deduction of his annuity, it's like cutting his flesh with a knife.

Brienne tried to persuade her further, but Queen Mary was in a fit of anger and remained unmoved. Shortly after noon, the decree, signed by Louis XVI, was sent to the Montpellier Province.

The Queen, not content with her previous actions, issued another decree reprimanding the Minister of War Marquis of Saint-Priest, for his serious personnel misjudgment, demanding that he reflect deeply on his actions, and personally overseeing the execution of the punishment for the Marquis of Saint-Viran.

Brienne knew that the military Nobility had always been a monolithic entity, and that embezzlement and other corrupt practices were almost always blatant, but from the King to the civil officials, no one dared to question it.

The Queen's two edicts issued today have completely stirred up a hornet's nest.

He paced anxiously back and forth in his office, but couldn't come up with a solution for a long time. Finally, he had no choice but to order his servants to prepare a carriage so he could go to the Tuileries Palace to discuss the matter with His Crown Prince.

Nice City.

Two officials in charge of the Grain Reserve watched the departing Carriage convoy, muttering under their breath, "What are those bigwigs at the Versailles Palace thinking? Deploying such a huge transport capacity, sending grain to Montpellier, and then needing to bring in grain from Grenoble to replenish our supplies."

"Heh, who knows? As long as we make sure the quantity is correct, that's fine."

The transport team came with documents personally signed by the Minister of the Interior to allocate grain; what problem could there be?

"Don't delay in Grenoble. We only have less than 30,000 pounds left in our stock. If they're even a few days late, there won't be any bread left in the city."

Meanwhile, a large amount of grain was also shipped out of Grenoble's Grain Reserve, but the destination was still Montpellier. Their documents indicated that grain from Nice would be delivered in a few days.

In fact, over the past two weeks, grain depots throughout the South France have received documents from the Ministry of Interior instructing them to carry out large-scale grain relocation.

However, no one felt anything was wrong. After all, food shortages had been frequent in the past six months, and there had been many emergency food mobilizations before. Although the amount mobilized this time was relatively large, according to past practice, food from other places would soon be supplied, so there was no need to worry.

East-central France.

On the King's Road in the South Auvergne, the Marquis of Saint-Viran sat in his speeding Carriage, gazing at Paris hundreds of miles away, a ruthless smile on his face.

"Austrian Bitch, I will repay you a hundredfold for all the humiliation you've suffered! I'll show you that without the military, the Royal House is nothing but a field mouse shivering in the cold wind!"

He looked at the letter in his hand for the tenth time. It was from his nephew, who was also Major General in the Montcalm Legion. The letter reported that the legion was ready and could be deployed at any time, and that food shortages were beginning to appear in many parts of Montpellier.

Marquis of Saint-Viran reveled in the pleasure of revenge, his mind drifting back to the secret meeting held more than ten days earlier at the Duke of Orléans' private hunting grounds.

At that time, he was still tormented by anger and humiliation, which caused his shooting performance to be extremely poor.

"It's all that Austrian Bitch's fault! She completely humiliated me!" he roared through gritted teeth after missing a buck.

The Minister of War, the Marquis of Saint-Priest, also looked grim. "It's not just you; she wants to humiliate the entire military."

A slightly overweight officer frowned upon hearing this and said, "But why would she do that? Offending the military will not benefit the Royal House at all."

The Duke of Orléans spurred his horse forward two steps, gazing at the prey in the distance, and shouted, "Because she doesn't care about you at all."