Joseph glanced subconsciously at Alexandra, who was still energetically promoting a synthetic board liquor cabinet on stage, and couldn’t help but smile and nod:
"She truly is a little angel, beautiful and charming, and very serious about her work."
Indeed, within the whole troupe, the Russian girl’s advertisement integration act was the most natural and smoothest; he definitely had to praise her more.
Queen Mary, however, detected another meaning in his words, and slyly shot her husband a triumphant look, as if to say, "See? I was right, wasn’t I? Our son truly likes the Russian Grand Duchess."
Louis XVI, while looking at the little girl on stage, had to admit he was a tad displeased with her Russian heritage, but thinking of his son earlier calling her "little angel," he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften.
He too had been influenced by Enlightenment ideas, and his requirements for a royal marriage weren’t as rigid as those of his forebears; instead, because of his love for Queen Mary, he believed that his son should also have the right to choose a girl he liked.
Well, it was most important that Joseph liked her. Louis XVI muttered to himself, at least she was a genuine girl and a princess to boot.
Although Joseph had long before confessed to his father that he didn’t fancy men—Louis XVI had witnessed countless incidents of that sort of affection within the Palace of Versailles, which was even quite popular among the nobility—he had always been concerned about his son’s sexual orientation. Now, he finally set his mind at ease.
Louis XVI also looked towards Queen Mary and nodded, showing his agreement with the "Crown Princess" on stage, whereupon both of them simultaneously smiled with the complacent contentment of a doting aunt.
After all, the Crown Prince was about to turn 16, and the matter of his engagement was finally taking shape...Joseph had no idea that his parents had just set in stone the future Crown Princess of France in that brief moment. He was watching Baron Tyron Shaw distributing soda drinks to distinguished guests on stage and suddenly frowned slightly. Were there perhaps too many product placements? Hmm... a one and a half hour play, with only 35 minutes of advertisements, should be okay, right...
But the audience quickly grew distracted due to the plethora of ads, and the royal family in the VIP box started chatting casually among themselves.
"My dear, I truly adore the set of furniture you gave me." Queen Mary fed a piece of nut brittle candy into her son’s mouth, smiling warmly, "It’s the best birthday gift I’ve received this year. Oh, of course, this gift is also very wonderful."
She said, pointing to her hair accessory:
"Isn’t it cute? Your father made it himself!"
Joseph looked at the slowly rotating birdcage atop his mother’s head when suddenly the mechanical nightingale inside fluttered out and burst into cheerful chirping.
"Actually, it can also play a little of ’Queen Anne’s Birthday Ode’," Louis XVI said with a proud lift of his chin.
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Joseph blinked and hesitantly asked:
"Dear father, how long did it take for you to make this hair accessory?"
"Not long," Louis XVI boasted proudly, "just two and a half months, well, plus some additional design time. Mr. Ferrolant said that even if he had done it, it couldn’t have been any better..."
Upon hearing this, Joseph couldn’t help but facepalm, thinking to himself that no wonder there had been no progress on the development of the new rifled guns; His Majesty had been busy tinkering with birdcages instead.
He shook his head silently; after all, his father didn’t receive a salary, so naturally, he could spend his "working" hours as he pleased. However, he still needed to remind him from time to time...
Queen Mary’s birthday celebration ended amidst joy and laughter, and subsequently, soda drinks began selling like hotcakes across Paris—even with a price tag of six livres per bottle. Lines hundreds of meters long formed outside the "Habitable" furniture store in the Louvre District...
What Joseph hadn’t expected was the adverse impact that the advertising he’d arranged on his mother’s birthday would cause.
The major theaters of Paris, following the court troupe’s practice, began to infuse soft advertisements into their plays. Of course, this was because product placements brought them a substantial amount of revenue, and they could no longer let go of it.
Around the corner on Rue de Richelieu, the Comédie-Française was staging "The Marriage of Figaro."
A couple, upon hearing the actors on stage mention "Source of Elegance Perfume Shop," immediately exchanged a glance.
The man spoke in a low voice:
"It seems it’s ’Crown Prince time,’ we can go have a cup of coffee first."
"Alright, dear."
Indeed, the French audience detested product placement with clenched teeth, and upon investigating its origins, found out that it was Crown Prince His Highness who initially came up with the idea.
So "Crown Prince time" naturally became synonymous with product placement.
...
Brussels.
Inside the Parliament House, Charles II looked at the English court messenger with annoyance, but when he remembered the signature of George III on the letter on the table, he could only sigh.
"Please tell His Majesty the King that I will lead the troops back to Hanover as soon as possible."
Although he was Governor of Hanover, he was more so George III’s "tool," so when the King of England ordered him to stop supporting the Southern Netherlands Rebels, he had no choice but to comply.
After the messenger left, Charles II gazed at the distant faintly visible gunsmoke and felt an inexplicable sense of relief.
Deep down, he had already conceded that defeating the French Army on the other side was impossible.
The shame of being captured made it difficult for him to face this retreat.
Yet the command from the King of England had just solved this dilemma for him.
"Alas, out of loyalty to His Majesty, I must endure this shame for now," he murmured to himself as he walked towards the door, waving at the orderly officer, "Order Metternich to lead two battalions in guarding the southern line, and the rest of the forces to assemble north of Brussels immediately."
"Yes, Marshal!"
Vandernoot and the members of the Southern Netherlands Congress soon learned of the unusual movements of the Hanoverian Army, and although surprised, they just went to inquire about the situation with Charles II.
By this time, Charles II had already reached a point fifty miles from Brussels, escorted by his guard.
Vandernoot and the others had yet to realize that they had been sold out, scrambling to organize the Southern Netherlands National Guard to take over the defense of Brussels while seeking assistance from the Prussian Army in Liege.
...
Prussian administrative center, Potsdam.
Sanssouci Palace.
William II frowned and said:
"This would mean that our massive investment in the Southern Netherlands will have been in vain!"
Lord Grenville, the British Foreign Minister, revealed a plain smile:
"Your Majesty, with all due respect, how to quickly end the conflict in Silesia is the issue you should be most concerned with.
"If the information I’ve received is correct, Prussia’s finances should be very tight by now, right?"
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