I am the Crown Prince of France

Chapter 25: The First Pot of Gold

Unlike his meeting with the Naval Minister, Joseph received Marquis Saint-Priest in his study, dismissing all servants and ordering the guards outside to keep their distance.

After Joseph detailed his plan, the Minister of War was shocked. "How do you know she's in Nijmegen?!"

Joseph, of course, knew from a documentary, but he only smiled mysteriously. "Ah, that's a secret, but the information is absolutely reliable."

Saint-Priest furrowed his brow, thinking hard before reluctantly nodding. "It's feasible, but also very risky. You know, even the best spies can fail. If anything goes wrong, it could lead to war."

Joseph smiled confidently. "Don't worry. Even if things get out, as long as nothing happens to Wilhelmina, Prussia will spin the story to fit our narrative. Their economy is in terrible shape; they won't want a war with France."

The War Minister pondered this for a while, then stood up. "This matter is too significant. I must report to the Queen before we can make a final decision."

"Of course," Joseph replied, walking him to the door. Suddenly, he said, "Marquis Saint-Priest, don't you think you should thank me for this?"

The War Minister was momentarily taken aback. The Prince had secured the budget for the Dutch operation and even drafted the action plan. He had been so focused on implementation that he had forgotten to thank the Prince. Feeling a bit guilty, he nodded repeatedly. "You're right, I owe you my thanks."

Joseph smiled. "Then how about a gift?"

"Please, ask for anything."

"Well, how about assigning me 20 of your best spies?"

Saint-Priest almost cried. "Your Highness, you're so young, yet you're as ruthless as a bandit! Twenty top spies? Do you think I just pick them up off the street?"

He grimaced. "Your Highness, the entire army doesn't even have 20 top-tier spies."

"Eighteen."

"Two, at most."

"Fifteen."

"Three. There really aren't any more!"

"Twelve, and that's final!"

After some bargaining, Joseph managed to secure three top spies and eight ordinary spies from the War Minister. It wasn't many, but it was the first step in building his "French CIA."

It was a busy day. No sooner had Saint-Priest left than the two men recommended by Queen Marie arrived for their audience.

After a deep conversation with both, Joseph assessed their personalities and abilities. Combining that with their preferences, he decided that Besançon would become the Paris Police Commissioner, as the position required strong management skills.

Friant, another talent, wouldn't be wasted either. Joseph appointed him as the headmaster of the soon-to-be-established Paris Police Academy—of course, with Joseph himself as the principal.

Friant's extensive experience in training new recruits would be invaluable for training police officers.

"So, your primary task as Commissioner will be to expand the police reforms throughout all of Paris," Joseph told Besançon. "I've already compiled all the rules, regulations, and reorganization plans. Just follow them.

"Oh, and since the pressure in Saint-Antoine has eased, you can transfer some personnel from there to evaluate the other districts. If you're short on manpower, I can assign some of my guards to help."

Captain Cossoud, standing nearby, twitched slightly. Ever since the Prince's police reforms began, the Royal Guards had been reduced to errand boys...

Besançon carefully noted everything down. "Your Highness, from what I understand of the reforms, the salaries alone will require 50,000 livres a month. Adding uniforms and equipment, the City Hall won't be able to cover the costs."

Paris City Hall's entire budget for policing was only 8,000 livres a month.

Joseph replied, "Don't worry about the money. I'll allocate 50,000 livres for you today and continue to provide the funds monthly."

"Yes, Your Highness!"

Joseph then turned to Friant. "You have a big task ahead too. First, find a suitable location for the academy. It can be in a remote area; focus on low land costs.

"The next issue is staffing. Right now, the only experienced people we have are the officers from Saint-Antoine, but that's far from enough."

Friant immediately responded, "Your Highness, I know many retired veterans and even some officers. They should be able to handle training in drills and combat."

"Excellent," Joseph nodded approvingly. "Military training standards are much higher than those for the police. Contact them as soon as possible. Their salaries will be the same as municipal officials, plus an extra 30%."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"We'll also need teachers in finance, trade, journalism, and law. The academy will offer courses in these subjects."

Friant was puzzled. "Why would a police academy teach those subjects?"

Besançon, thinking quickly, answered, "I believe His Highness means that to catch criminals, you have to understand their methods. When I first started dealing with smugglers, I didn't know how to calculate tariffs or which goods were easy to smuggle. It took me months of study before I caught my first smuggler."

"Exactly," Joseph nodded in approval. "The police must be more professional than the criminals to effectively deter and combat crime."

Friant had never heard such advanced ideas before and was deeply impressed, furiously jotting down notes in his notebook.

After giving them some final instructions, Joseph allocated 20,000 livres in startup funds to Friant and sent the two men off.

When Joseph returned to his quarters, his accountant was already waiting with two expenditure forms for him to sign.

Looking at the total of 70,000 livres, Joseph sighed. He had started with just over 200,000 livres. After paying 20,000 in police salaries and 10,000 to Lamarck for essential supplies for the factory, he was down to just over 100,000 livres.

Money was slipping through his fingers. He needed to start generating income fast, or he'd be broke in no time.

He quickly recalled his plan to use salicin to make cosmetics. What started as a simple fever remedy had turned into his fastest potential moneymaker.

After dismissing the accountant, Joseph turned to his aide, Emond. "I need you to order some supplies for me."

Emond immediately took out a notebook and pen. "Yes, Your Highness. Please tell me what you need."

"Fifty kilograms of glycerin, one kilogram of rose essential oil, five hundred 7-ounce glass bottles, and an equal number of small wooden boxes just big enough to hold the bottles. The boxes should be branded with..."

As someone who struggled with naming things, Joseph paused for a few seconds. He suddenly remembered his college roommate's gift for his girlfriend—a bottle of "SK-II Miracle Water." It had a catchy name, so he said, "Brand them with 'Angel Water.'

"Make sure everything is of the highest quality. Don't worry about the cost."

"Yes, Your Highness. I'll take care of it right away."

(End of Chapter)