Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

National First Prison, second floor.

Guard Captain Kesode opened the large door to cell 211 for the Crown Prince.

A faint scent of incense immediately wafted out. Joseph caught a glimpse of the cell's neat, white walls, the patterned desk, and the half-open bathroom door behind which a flush toilet was visible, and he couldn't help frowning slightly.

This bad habit of French prisons was truly hard to correct.

Previously, he had instructed the prison head, Marquis of Launay, that the cells of the nobility should not be too luxurious. He did promptly convert the cells into singles, but outside those, he still preserved the toilets, dining rooms, and a massive wardrobe. Although the furniture was much reduced from before, it was still all expensive, high-quality goods.

All in all, this place was much more luxurious and comfortable than the homes of ordinary Parisians. Of course, these conditions were several times harsher than before for the nobility, making even one day here a torment.

However, Joseph also knew that it was difficult to change such ingrained notions all at once; adjustments would continue to be made in the future. Besides, he was here today for a more important matter and did not wish to prolong the discussion about the cell with the Marquis of Launay.

As the person inside cell 211 heard the noise, he immediately turned and looked toward the doorway. When he saw the Crown Prince, dressed in a crisp blue and white cavalry uniform, he hurriedly stepped back with his right foot and, placing his hand over his chest, bowed deeply, nervously saying, "Your Highness, the Crown Prince, it is truly wonderful that you have come..."

Joseph sat down on the chair that Eman had pulled over, and with a cold gaze, he looked at the middle-aged man still wearing a lace-embellished velvet coat and neatly arranged white wig, "Baron Pelley, you may speak now. Regarding the 'important matter' you mentioned."

Yes, this man, whose gaze always carried an air of arrogance, was one of the bigwigs of the Tax Farmers Association, a banker, a usurer, and a great landlord, Pelley.

Just over ten days ago, his trusted aide, Antoine, had been arrested for "inciting panic" and "spreading rumors."

Then, the police quickly uncovered several murder cases linked to Antoine—this fellow controlled one of the largest gangs in the Port of Marseille, and such activities were common for him and almost an open secret in Marseille.

However, previously, with Pelley's protection and Marseille's corrupt bureaucratic system, no one had been able to touch him.

This time, however, the Chief of Police, Besancon, personally took charge, bringing an order signed by the Crown Prince himself, and now no one dared to help Antoine escape punishment.

Unexpectedly, after being jailed, Antoine was slightly intimidated by Besancon and he ended up betraying his own boss.

Besancon treated this revelation like a treasure trove. Recently, the Tax Office had been too prominent, even taking over many of the Police Headquarters' responsibilities. After stabilizing the situation in Marseille, he immediately rushed back to Paris at full speed and captured Pelley, the big fish.

With an order from His Majesty the Crown Prince in hand, let alone a capitalist tycoon, he would even dare to arrest a Cabinet Minister now!

Pelley initially wanted to resist firmly, but he quickly heard about the emergence of the French Trade Alliance, which had taken over nearly a quarter of France's merchant market in just half a month. He instantly lost all his previous confidence and arrogance.

He was well aware that Ford's plan had failed. Now, with the trade route crisis resolved and the matter of the Port of Marseille suppressed, the government had no further concerns; the next step would surely be to deal with people like him.

At this critical moment, he had been betrayed by the fool, Antoine.

So, he decisively decided to emulate Antoine—betray his team members to save himself.

Pelley put on a pleasing expression, slightly bending his waist as he said to Joseph, "Your Highness, I indeed made some very foolish and disgraceful decisions previously, and I know you must be greatly annoyed by them. However, I hope that what I am about to tell you will improve your mood.

"Of course, if you could grant me a little merciful forgiveness for this, I would be eternally grateful for your pity."

Seeing Joseph's impatience, he quickly got to the point, "Your Highness, I know who was behind the nationwide intimidation and attacks on the tax bureaus."

Joseph raised his eyes, "Say his name." Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

"It's Borore." Pellier said, "Jacques Albert de Borore. I know your men have caught many attackers, but the leads quickly ran dry. That's because Borore had sent those responsible to Switzerland and Venice.

"I just happen to have friends in Switzerland who know the whereabouts of a few."

His use of "just happen" was strategic; he had been planning to leverage this as soon as he heard that Borore intended to use intimidation against the tax bureaus to grasp this "smuggler."

Thus, by preemptively making arrangements in Switzerland, he managed to find out where Borore's men were hiding.

He had initially intended to use this information to blackmail Borore for substantial business gains, yet it unexpectedly saved him now.

Joseph's eyes lit up, realizing these capitalists indeed took harsh measures for their benefits.

"So, where are they?"

Pellier, rubbing his hands and with a sheepish grin, said, "Your Highness, you hope to exchange a fine of two million francs for exemption from punishment..."

Joseph interrupted him immediately, "I can only assure that you will not lose your life."

Pellier seemed as if struck by lightning, with large beads of cold sweat rolling down his cheeks...

A week later.

Borore, while preparing to board a ship to escape to England, was intercepted by agents from the intelligence bureau and subsequently found himself in the prison's interrogation room facing his subordinates who were supposed to have fled to Switzerland.

Tuileries Palace, second floor.

Joseph listened to the cheers and discussions coming from outside the window and signaled Eman to close it.

Those were Parisians rushing to Louvre Square, ready to witness the commencement of the execution ceremony. Today, several dozen of the universally hated tax farmers' minions would have their heads chopped off.

Almost every citizen who could spare the time, including farmers from more than ten kilometers around, had gathered to witness this thrilling moment.

Standing in front of Joseph, Baron Breti, the Justice Minister, waited until the noise was muffled by the glass and continued, "Your Highness, you know, among the prisoners sent to Louvre Square are quite a few nobles, ah, at least a dozen.

"To have them executed alongside these lowly criminals is an insult to their noble status. I fear this will incite strong protests from the nobility, I mean, it could have been entirely avoided."

Currently, in France as well as all of Europe, even the death penalty differs between nobles and commoners. This time, due to a "joint trial," even those common prisoners who would usually face hanging unexpectedly "upgraded" to enjoy the guillotine, a privilege of the nobility.