I am the Crown Prince of France

The gambling session in the Mars Hall lasted until 1 a.m. Queen Marie Antoinette, now thoroughly enjoying her winning streak, looked at the mountain of gold coins on the table. Stifling a yawn, she finally decided to stand up, satisfied and ready to return to the Petit Trianon.

According to court rules, the King and Queen were supposed to hold a bedtime ceremony at 10:30 p.m.—where nobles would gather to watch them go to bed. However, since Louis XVI often "worked late" at the royal workshop, this rule had long been more of a formality.

Stretching lazily, Marie Antoinette glanced at the empty chair beside her. Turning to the Countess of Polignac, she asked, "Where's my little Petersburg darling?"

The Countess quickly leaned in and whispered, "Your Majesty, she went to bed around 10."

"Oh, I completely forgot," the Queen chuckled, lightly tapping her forehead. "She's still growing, after all."

As she left the Mars Hall, she hadn't gone far when she heard the voices of several noblewomen chatting around the corner of the corridor:

"Did you notice that Russian Grand Duchess?"

"It's hard not to lately. She seems to have found a way to be constantly around Her Majesty."

"I think the Queen quite likes her. I've heard Her Majesty call her 'sweetheart' several times this evening."

"Hmph, I bet the Queen is just intrigued by her for now. I wager that by next month, Her Majesty will have forgotten all about her."

"Most likely. Just look at her, wearing the latest fashionable dress, yet she still can't hide that rustic air about her. It's like trying to cover a candle with a coarse basket—it just doesn't work."

"Haha, that's such a perfect description…"

As the noblewomen rounded the corner, they suddenly came face to face with the Queen. Startled, they quickly stepped aside, bowing their heads in a deep curtsey, hardly daring to breathe.

Marie Antoinette shot them a disapproving glare, lifted her head high, and walked briskly past them. Yet their mocking words echoed in her ears, making her feel a pang of self-reproach.

She realized she had been too hard on Joseph—he wasn't just shy or bashful; he was worried that choosing a Russian bride might spark gossip among the nobles. Ah, he truly was a considerate and responsible child, always thinking of the bigger picture!

Marie Antoinette knew well the superiority complex of the French aristocracy—after all, she had faced their disdain as a Habsburg princess, and the Russian girl, with her Tatar lineage[Note 1], would be treated with even less respect.

Recalling the pain and bitterness of being secretly dubbed the "Austrian whore" by those same nobles, she made a firm decision: she would work even harder to help her son and the sweet Russian princess get together! After all, she didn't want her children to suffer the same way she had.

The next morning, while discussing a play with the leader of her theater troupe, the Queen saw the Prince walking briskly toward her, led by one of her maids.

After he greeted her, she immediately embraced him, smiling as she said, "My dear, you can't always be so consumed with work. Social engagements are also an important part of life, especially for members of the royal family."

Joseph, who found social events and balls tedious, gave a quick, evasive response before getting to the point. "My dear mother, next month, Paris will hold the inaugural ceremony for the gas street lamps. If you're available, I would love for you to attend."

In truth, the gas distillation plant was only just being built, and gas lamps hadn't yet been mass-produced. However, Murdoch had already completed the tests for distillation, gas transmission, and the gas lamps themselves.

So Joseph planned to set up a few gas lamps to generate public interest, attract private investment, and use the publicity to launch a real estate project.

Yes, gas lamps were more of an infrastructure investment and wouldn't generate much direct profit, but real estate could.

He had already purchased all the public land around the Tuileries Garden, which would be the first area to test the gas lamps.

Just imagine: when night falls and Paris is shrouded in darkness, with only a few dim oil lamps flickering here and there, the houses around the Tuileries Garden would be illuminated by bright gas lamps. People would see the luxurious villas from several streets away and gaze at them with envy.

With the schools, hospitals, and public transport systems built during Paris Fashion Week, the wealthy of Paris would be eager to snatch up these properties.

The villas in the "Royal Garden" community had already sold for 70,000 livres each. With the added appeal of gas lamps, these homes could easily go for 100,000 livres.

And don't think that's too expensive—there are over a thousand foreign tycoons in Paris alone who would buy these luxury properties in a heartbeat.

In the past two years, the city of Paris had expanded twice, but it still felt increasingly crowded. The city's excellent environment and safety had attracted a large number of newcomers—last month, the minister of population reported that Paris now had over 700,000 residents.

But Joseph estimated that there were several thousand more people not included in the count. These were the lower-class workers who left early and returned late, making it difficult for census officials to "catch" them.

The housing demand generated by this massive influx of people was enormous.

Once gas lamps sparked a trend in luxury real estate, Joseph planned to develop mid-range housing for ordinary nobles and encourage banks to offer mortgages, stimulating the flow of capital throughout France.

"Gas street lamps?" Queen Marie Antoinette was surprised. "I've heard Count Mirabeau mention them, but my dear, it's just a lamp. Why are both you and the Minister of Industry so concerned about it?"

Joseph smiled as he explained, "Mother, it's not like the oil lamps we have now.

"First of all, it's much brighter, and unlike the yellowish glow of oil lamps, it emits a light that's closer to daylight. I'll have Mr. Murdoch send you one in a few days. Once you try it, you'll want to throw away all the candles and oil lamps in the palace.

"Secondly, it's fueled by gas supplied through pipes, which is much more convenient than candles or oil lamps—once you've paid for the gas, you can use it continuously without having to replace candles or refill oil."

The Queen looked intrigued. "Hmm, that does sound interesting."

"Yes, it will start a new fashion trend," Joseph said confidently, "and become another symbol of Paris."

Note 1: Due to the historical rule of the Mongols over Russia, many Europeans considered Russians to be descendants of Tatars, which contributed to their disdain for Russians. In reality, most Russians are of Rus' descent, mixed with European immigrants, Baltic residents, Tungusic peoples, Central Asian nomads, and Turks. Tatar ancestry is actually a smaller component.

(End of Chapter)

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