Camellia lost her first battle

After returning from Silesia, Camellia remained by the Crown Prince's side.

Her Majesty the Queen intended for this attentive young woman to care for her son, so she appointed her as the Crown Prince's temporary maid—a significant elevation of her status that made countless Nobility ladies envious.

Meanwhile, the maid was putting her long-prepared plan into action.

She always kept her teacher's instructions in mind, striving to make the Crown Prince fall in love with her, and worked hard to put them into practice.

However, Doctor Perna had always been inseparable from His Highness, which made it impossible for her, who lacked experience, to find any opportunities.

Now that Miss Perna is in Silesia, she must seize this rare opportunity!

Camellia stole a glance at Eman sitting next to her and saw that he was looking out the window, which immediately boosted her confidence.

She quietly pulled her small, stockinged feet out of her shoes, and, using the draped tablecloth as cover, slowly extended them toward His Crown Prince opposite her.

This was the first time she had done something like this, and her face was already burning red, but she was still trying hard to recall the "secret technique" that Madame Seles had taught her—it was the most popular Noblewoman at the Versailles Palace, one she had heard about. After paying a large sum of money for the lesson, she finally received Madame Célest's "true teachings." According to Madame Seles's maid, she had used this trick to win over at least 12 gentlemen.

"Move your feet over his knees, along the inside of his thighs, then bring them together, gently rubbing, and then..."

Camellia silently recited the steps that filled her with shame, feeling her toes already touching the lace trim on the Crown Prince's trousers.

Her delicate body trembled slightly, she bit her lip lightly, and began to lift her leg upwards, her heart pounding wildly, hoping that His Highness would like this.

Joseph finally made a decision and awarded Perna a silver Iris Medal in recognition of her creation of the Battlefield Hospital.

He reached for a pen, intending to write a commendation order for the General Staff Headquarters, but accidentally knocked over a teacup on the table.

Hot tea spilled from the exquisite the East Porcelain, instantly covering the table and flowing down the edge.

When Camellia's jade-like feet were less than 2 millimeters away from the Crown Prince's tight pants, she suddenly felt a hot current covering her stockings, followed by a burning pain on the top of her feet.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she could only grit her teeth and not show any sign of distress. Just as she was about to pull her feet back, she saw the Crown Prince about to bend down to clean up the water that had spilled on the floor, and she panicked—her feet were still dangling in mid-air!

"Your Highness, please let me do it."

Eman's voice appeared like heavenly music, saving her life.

Joseph sat up straight again, moved aside, and nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you for your help. Thank you very much."

Taking advantage of the moment when Eman stood up, Camellia quickly pulled her foot back and painfully stuffed it into her shoe.

Joseph looked up and saw that Camellia's face was flushed and tears were welling up in her eyes. He quickly asked with concern, "Are you feeling unwell?"

"No, no," the maid forced a smile, "I, I'm fine, I'm alright..."

Upon returning to the Tuileries Palace, Camellia, who had suffered a defeat in her first battle, hurriedly went to her lounge while the Crown Prince was discussing matters with Archbishop Brienne. She took off her shoes and socks, only to find her delicate little feet were red and swollen from the heat. Fortunately, the tea had cooled down somewhat by then, preventing a burn.

Shame, indignation, resentment, and pain surged up all at once, and the little girl could no longer hold back her tears...

London.

In a Villa on the Southern Suburbs, Mr. Pascal Paoli, dressed in a brand-new blue-grey suit, smiled and kissed his wife goodbye before boarding the Carriage with his cane.

A gentle breeze caressed his face, prompting him to hum a song.

Paoli was in a very good mood because he had recently achieved great success in both his career and Love.

He first met Isabella, a gentle and beautiful United Kingdom Nobility, at a salon last month. Her father was a Baron, and her family was wealthy. Young Nobility were pursuing her could stretch from the St. James's Palace to the Buckingham Palace.

Who would have thought that this angelic beauty, who seemed indifferent to everyone, would be attracted by his demeanor and conversation, and soon fall in love with him?

Although he had been married for many years, it was perfectly normal for a prominent politician to have a mistress.

Just last week, while he was immersed in the beauty of Love, a wealthy Scotland businessman who greatly admired the spirit of freedom heard about his story and was immediately moved, expressing his willingness to provide some support for the Corsica people's pursuit of independence and freedom.

According to what he learned from someone who knew Mr. Chamos, Chamos owned two Coal Mine, a Textile, and shares in the East India Company, and was worth at least Pound Sterling 200,000.

He believed that such a wealthy person would provide him with at least Pound Sterling 10,000 in assistance, or even more.

Paoli's Carriage stopped in front of a luxurious Villa not far from the Thames River. A middle-aged man of short stature immediately came forward, opened the carriage door for him, and smiled:

"You've finally arrived! Mr. Chamos got here half an hour ago."

Paoli hurried after him toward the Villa. Chamos would likely finalize the funding at today's salon.

"Have Balster and Eliok arrived yet?"

The middle-aged man nodded and said, "They just arrived."

"That's good." Paoli breathed a sigh of relief. "That makes sense, after all, Mr. Chamos had never met me before."

Although he said that, he was actually still somewhat dissatisfied.

Chamos was so worried that Chamos was a fake leader of Corsica that he demanded that three high-ranking members of the Corsican Restoration Organization participate in the funding.

Left with no other choice, he sent three of his key men by ship to the United Kingdom. Although this might delay their efforts to veto the Pro-France Faction tax bill in the Corsican Parliament, if they could secure a large sum of money, they could then buy more support from members of parliament in the future.

Before the salon even began, Mrs. Henry, who was hosting it, warmly instructed her Servant to greet Paoli and the others.

Then Paoli saw a shrewd and capable Scotland businessman wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

"Ah! It's a pleasure to meet you." After exchanging greetings, Chamos sat down, raised his glass, and said, "I've heard much about your deeds these past few days. Mr. Paoli, I must confess, I have the utmost admiration for you and your father's extraordinary achievements."

"Therefore, I have decided to donate Pound Sterling 20,000 to support your noble cause."

Paoli was surprised that the other party was so straightforward in mentioning the sponsorship, and that the amount far exceeded his expectations.

"That's wonderful!" He quickly raised his glass as well. "On behalf of all the people of Corsica, I express my heartfelt gratitude to you!"

After a light clinking of glasses, Chamos hesitated slightly before saying:

"However, Mr. Paoli, I have a small request."