Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Queen Mary looked at her son with surprise, the Belgian pastry wrapped in sugar threads and dusted with cocoa powder still hadn’t reached her mouth, "You mean to say, Archbishop Talleyrand has expressed support to Russia for their occupation of Sweden, and this was done with your instigation?"

"Ah, it kind of counts as a diplomatic policy suggestion I gave him," Joseph didn’t want his mother to think that the Foreign Minister had disregarded her, so he chose a more tactful way to put it, "And he happens to agree."

"But why would you indulge the Russians?"

"It’s to make them temporarily forget about Poland. You know, if the Russian army has nothing to do, Poland will suffer."

Queen Mary blinked, "In that case, we should negotiate directly with Russia, instead of sacrificing Sweden."

"This..." Joseph secretly pinched the armrest of his chair and explained patiently, "Rest assured, Sweden can withstand a Russian invasion."

"But I don’t feel that Sweden is much stronger than Poland."

"Sweden will receive assistance from England and Prussia."

"How can you be so sure?"

An hour and a half later, Queen Mary had completely lost interest in the dessert, and only shock remained in her eyes as she looked at the Crown Prince, "So, your strategy is to first stabilize the situation around Tunisia, and then send the Marquis de Lafayette to India to cause trouble for the British?"

"Ah, I just gave some advice to the Minister of War. The Marquis de Lafayette was acting on orders from Duke of Broglie when he went to the Far East."

Joseph had to try his best to justify the actions of the Cabinet Ministers, "According to the investigations of the intelligence agency, both Algiers and Tripoli have been supported by the British. If the British need to commit a significant force in India, then our pressure in North Africa will be reduced.

"You see, after Mysore declared war on the British East India Company, the British Foreign Minister immediately came to Paris. If I’m not mistaken, he is here to request that we do not interfere with the situation in India.

"Of course, we cannot agree so easily, and recently we also defeated the Hanoverian Army, we must consider... after he offers enough benefits."

Queen Mary wasn’t really listening to her son’s latter words; her heart was swirling with excitement and pride. Her son had grown up and was so excellent, speaking of these international affairs with authority, something that even Archbishop Brienne had never elucidated so clearly before.

At the same time, there was a touch of melancholy—following this pace, her son would soon no longer need her protection. He would be like a bird with full plumage, spreading his wings and flying away from the nest she had built for him.

She suddenly froze, then shook her head vigorously.

What was she thinking about? Her son was about to turn 16; he was already a grown-up! He was the chosen son of God!

She couldn’t always hold him in her arms like when he was a child. He was meant to spread his wings and soar across the vast skies of France.

Moreover, it was clear that he was very capable of doing so.

With that in mind, there was only one thing left on Queen Mary’s mind, "Joseph, in a few months you will be 16. I know you have great aspirations and want to devote your energy to strengthening the nation, but you also need to consider your marriage.

"You can choose not to marry just yet, but that doesn’t stop you from choosing a fiancée. For the love of God, think of it as giving peace of mind to me and your father."

She lowered her voice, "To be honest, you’re not into men, are you? Oh, it was your father who mentioned this to me."

Joseph suddenly felt a headache coming on, how could a discussion about national affairs suddenly turn to this topic.

"Of course not," he said quickly, shaking his head, "Don’t worry, I will definitely choose a girl I like to marry."

Queen Mary immediately seized the opportunity, "So, what do you think of Clementine..."

"Ah, mother, cousin Clementine is fine, but she’s definitely not the ideal wife for me."

"So the Princess of Sicily? No? What about the Princess of Savoy? Also unsuitable? The Spanish Princess..."

Joseph was rather amused and helpless. Although his mother had almost listed the princesses of all the surrounding countries, thanks to the appalling tradition among European Royalty—of marrying almost exclusively within a few royal families, never introducing fresh DNA—he was related to all the girls she mentioned!

Even the most distant were third-degree collateral relatives, and ones like Clementine didn’t even need mentioning. How could such a union be possible?

Seeing Queen Mary’s expression turning solemn as she began to extend the list of potential brides to England, Joseph couldn’t bear it any longer.

"Uh, dear mother, my requirements are actually quite simple," he said through gritted teeth, "I just hope to marry a girl who is not related to me by blood."

"Ah? Why is that?"

Joseph felt a headache coming on. If he outright said that marrying close relatives could lead to offspring with mental deficiencies, that seemed like an insult to his own parents. After all, both his grandparents and great-grandparents had been closely related when they married...

Furthermore, as someone influenced by 21st-century ideals, he was ethically opposed to taking a close relative as a wife.

"It’s a matter of genetics," he said carefully, "You know, Mendel... Oh, never mind, he hasn’t yet..."

Queen Mary, looking at her son’s constipated expression, suddenly smiled kindly and took his hand, saying, "Alright, alright, I understand. But as the Crown Prince of France, you really can’t marry a commoner."

In her view, her son must have concocted this excuse because he wanted to marry a common girl.

"Ah?" Joseph said instinctively, "I didn’t say I wanted to marry a commoner."

"Oh? Really?"

"I’ll marry a princess, I truly will marry a princess," Joseph, exhausted, asserted firmly, "Just not a close relative."

Just then, Brian came with an important document for Her Majesty the Queen to sign, interrupting the conversation between the two.

Joseph quickly seized the opportunity to escape the marriage pressure.

After dealing with the official matters, Queen Mary paced to the balcony, looking out at the vibrant vegetables and flowers in the garden, her mind replaying her son’s words.

"Not related by blood," she frowned slightly, "yet he wants to marry a princess. Is there such a princess in European Royalty?"

Even the British Royal Family was related to the French Royal Family, albeit the connection was somewhat diluted. And surely the Crown Prince couldn’t actually marry an English woman...

"What exactly is my son thinking?"

As Queen Mary pondered, the image of a young girl with gentle large eyes suddenly appeared in her mind.

Her eyes lit up, that girl indeed had no blood relation to the French Royal Family, "Joseph must like that little lass! Hmm, although she is a bit young, she is indeed very adorable, especially those eyes. Discover hidden content at

"Right, she is currently in Paris, no wonder Joseph rushed back from the Southern Netherlands."

She recalled Joseph once saying he wished to marry a princess from a powerful nation. Though Russia was poor and backward, it was vast and heavily populated, definitely a powerful country.

She suddenly felt guilty; her son had mentioned his interested party early on, yet she had failed to understand all this time.

He really was a shy child, fancying someone else’s girl but not saying it directly, leaving the parents to keep guessing.

Queen Mary felt a twinge of regret over Clementine’s "rejection," but soon cheered up, at least she was sure her son was not interested in men.

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