Chapter 629: The Temptation of Macarons
Joseph couldn't help but laugh at Charles's antics.
He understood, though—his younger brother didn't have many friends at Versailles. Since Alexandra arrived in Paris, she had become one of the few companions he could play with.
More than that, Charles couldn't stop thinking about her because he'd never beaten her in fencing. She was taller than him and had a natural talent for swordsmanship. Despite his hard training, he always found himself losing to her.
Joseph patted Charles on the head and teased,
"You're a Bourbon too. Why don't you propose to her yourself?"
Unexpectedly, the little boy began crying even harder.
"I already did!"
"Oh? And what did she say?"
"She said she didn't want to marry a little kid!" Charles wailed.
Joseph struggled to stifle his laughter. A not-quite-9-year-old calling a 6-year-old a "little kid"? Well, fair enough.
He cleared his throat and comforted his brother.
"The Grand Duchess will probably come back to Paris after the funeral."
"But what if she doesn't?"
Joseph reasoned with him patiently, "Think about it—she still has lessons with Mr. Greuze, and Madame Gallan's music classes aren't over. She'll return."
"Are you sure?" Charles sniffled, wide-eyed.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Great!" Charles's tears instantly turned to smiles. His brother was the person he admired most, so if Joseph said it, it had to be true.
Relieved of his worries, the young prince bowed to Joseph and turned to his tutor.
"I need to feed Walnut first, and then I'll go straight to Latin class."
Walnut was the Cape parrot Joseph had gifted him.
As Charles passed Joseph's desk, his eyes were drawn to the neatly packaged macarons piled high. His steps slowed. He had clearly inherited Queen Marie's love for sweets.
Seeing this, Joseph offered with a smile,
"Do you want some? Go ahead, take as many as you like."
Joseph was eager to get rid of the treats. They were part of the chaos from Valentine's Day when Solère had delivered them on behalf of others. Joseph had introduced the idea of gifting macarons for Valentine's Day, inspired by the modern tradition of giving chocolates. Unfortunately, solid chocolate hadn't been invented yet.
Many noblewomen, hoping to express their admiration for Joseph, had sent macarons but couldn't present them directly. Somehow, they discovered Solère had access to the Prince. She, ever the helpful soul, agreed to act as their intermediary.
The result? Boxes upon boxes of macarons now cluttered his quarters.
Charles gleefully stuffed his pockets with macarons. Then he noticed the cards tucked into the packaging and began to read aloud.
"To His Royal Highness, the Prince. Your elegance fills me with admiration…"
"Cough—!" Joseph rushed to stop him.
"Don't mind those words! Just unwrap the packaging, alright?"
After Charles left, Joseph headed to the Petit Trianon to discuss Potemkin's funeral arrangements with Queen Marie.
Potemkin, second only to the Tsar in power, was practically the "Emperor of Russia." His funeral required due respect.
Furthermore, Britain was making diplomatic inroads in Russia, expanding trade agreements and investing heavily in the Donbass region. Clearly, they aimed to counterbalance French influence. Joseph wanted to use the funeral as an opportunity to strengthen France's diplomatic ties.
At the Petit Trianon, Talleyrand reviewed the guest list with the Queen.
"Your Majesty, don't forget Duke Zubov. In your letter to the Tsar, you may wish to include a mention of him. His influence in St. Petersburg is significant, especially now without Potemkin's restraint. The Tsar might share your letter with him."
The Queen nodded and instructed her secretary.
"Please add greetings to him when drafting the letter."
She then glanced at the gift list with some confusion.
"Why are we sending eight identical bookshelves to the Tsar?"
Joseph chuckled.
"So she has no choice but to distribute them among the nobility."
The gifts—iron goods, cosmetics, carriages, and more—were sent in multiples. When Catherine the Great passed them on to other nobles, it would effectively advertise French products across Russia.
Even Potemkin's funeral carriage was a donation from the Gem Carriage Company. After the funeral, Talleyrand planned to discuss opening a department store in St. Petersburg with Zubov.
Joseph understood that with Potemkin's death, Zubov would dominate Russian politics for years—until Catherine's reign ended. Though ambitious and greedy, Zubov lacked Potemkin's abilities. Investing in him would pay off handsomely.
At that moment, Alexandra entered the tea room, escorted by Countess de Berninac. She curtsied gracefully to Queen Marie and Joseph.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness, I've come to bid you farewell. I'll be returning to St. Petersburg tomorrow."
Joseph, struck by an idea, leaned over to Talleyrand and whispered,
"Prepare a gift for the Grand Duchess, matching the list for Duke Zubov."
The young girl would likely have little use for such gifts, but she'd undoubtedly redistribute them, further spreading the appeal of French products.
Before Joseph could say more, Charles burst into the room, fresh from his Latin lesson.
Spotting his mother, the young prince straightened his posture and approached with perfect courtly manners to offer his respects.
Then he noticed Alexandra. Beaming, he pulled out a handful of macarons from his pocket and offered them to her.
"Sister, these are for you! They're delicious—try some."
These treats, though not as refined as those made by the palace chefs, had a certain allure—especially when they came from someone else's kitchen.
Alexandra, however, declined politely.
"Thank you, Your Highness, but I rarely eat sweets."
She then adopted an unexpectedly serious tone, whispering,
"Besides, I recommend you avoid eating too many sweets yourself. They'll rot your teeth and could even cause your feet to decay."
Charles stared at the macarons in his hand, frozen. Suddenly, as if scalded, he flung them to the ground and began to wail.
Joseph thought to himself, This girl has some serious self-control—not bad for her age. I wish my mother could take a hint.
But Queen Marie merely pulled Charles into her arms, retrieved a macaron from his pocket, and took a bite.
"Darling," she said gently, "Sasha was just teasing. These sweet treats are gifts from Heaven. How could they possibly harm you?"
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