Everyone craned their necks, looking in one direction. The city was silent, with only the occasional sound of birdsong breaking the stillness.
Every building’s window displayed a golden iris flag; the nobles had theirs embroidered in silk, while the poor cut out iris motifs from paper painted gold, making the streets seem like a sea of golden flowers.
At the instant the dazzling sunlight swept across the spire of the Notre Da de Paris, a tsunami of cheers erupted from the end of King’s Avenue, followed by the court orchestra soaring into an exuberant rendition of the "Marching Song."
"He’s here! The great Son of Divine Favor!"
This shout was like a spark falling into a barrel of oil, and thousands of people on both sides of the road instantly fell into an almost religious fervor, shouting desperately, "Long live the Crown Prince!"
"May God bless the God of War of France!"
"Louis! Louis the Conqueror!"
First ca the Grenadier Battalion riding by, wearing bearskin hats and holding high the flag. Behind them, dressed in a hussar officer’s uniform and draped in a deep blue cloak, the handso yet now more composed and authoritative Crown Prince appeared at the road’s end, smiling and waving to the crowd.
People started to push forward wildly, agile ones climbing onto the trees along the road, and children were lifted above their parents’ heads.
Thankfully, the Paris Police and the Intelligence Bureau desperately maintained order, or there would have been a stampede in minutes.
No wonder people were so excited.
France had been besieged by hundreds of thousands of enemy troops. All Parisians could witness firsthand, with entire sets of fresh troops boarding trains almost daily to head to the front, how intense the war was.
Even the most optimistic believed this would be a protracted and arduous war, possibly even restarting another Thirty Years’ War.
But in less than a year, their Crown Prince cleanly and swiftly defeated all enemies, making all the great powers of the European Continent bow their noble heads to France.
This was a glorious victory never before seen in the history of France!
From now on, France’s status on the European Continent was entirely transford, leaping from a "first-rate power" to an unrivaled "superpower." Along with it ca an unprecedented surge in the confidence and morale of the French people.
Undoubtedly, France is about to enter a brand new "golden age"!
Following the Crown Prince were the proud Murat Cavalry Corps, the orderly Twelfth Infantry Division, and the Seventh Cavalry Artillery Regint with its various formidable "big guns."
Behind them, separated by forty or fifty ters, was a phalanx composed of over a thousand dejected British prisoners of war.
Several dwarf actors, dressed in British and Russian military uniforms, surrounded the captives, impersonating the Duke of York, Kosakov, and others, riding comically short-legged horses to perform how they were frustrated in the Battle of Karlsruhe.
Joseph’s ears buzzed with the cacophony of sounds as he finally reached the outskirts of Paris City. Looking up, he saw his parents waiting under the tent, along with Alexandra standing beside them.
Joseph quickly dismounted from the Arab horse. Even before he finished his salute, Queen Mary’s tears had already welled up, as she stepped forward to embrace him tightly: "Thank God you returned unscathed."
She wiped her tears, scanning her son up and down, her heart still palpitating: "They said you, holding a bayonet, led soldiers into the Russian lines and fought for seven hours to drive them back..."
Joseph couldn’t help but laugh: "Who ca up with such rumors... Don’t worry, Mother, unless my bayonet stretches two kiloters, there’s no way I could reach the Russian positions."
Alexandra curtsied nearby, leaned over, and whispered: "Your Highness, the Queen prays for you for hours every day. Last week alone, she wore out her third kneeling pad."
Joseph felt a warmth in his heart, gently patting Queen Mary’s back: "See, God has always cared for ."
Seeing his mother still in tears, he jested further: "Oh, right, I followed your orders and diligently ate three als a day. Oh, and the mints you gave before I left are all gone. Now, without them, I can’t do anything. You’ve got to prepare so more for ."
Queen Mary finally smiled: "I’ve always told you, mints are a blessing from God. I’ll have Mr. Sechilian make you several boxes right away."
Joseph winced at the thought of "several boxes," feeling his teeth almost ache from the sweetness.
Queen Mary then turned to look at Joseph’s younger brother behind him, lifting him up as her smile beca more reassuring: "Oh, my dear heart, your chest is stronger now, and you’ve grown taller..."
Charles’ skin had been tanned by the battlefield sun to a wheatish color, and it had coarsened sowhat, evidently having undergone genuine refinent.
The youngster quickly squird free, awkwardly muttering: "Mother, I’m not a child anymore, please don’t always say such things."
Joseph smiled: "Charles is already a sergeant now, with excellent performance in both drills and marksmanship."
Charles imdiately puffed out his chest, proudly telling his mother: "Did you know? I even accepted Grand Duke John’s surrender, that’s forty thousand troops. Back then..."
He began recounting the grand scene of the surrender ceremony to Queen Mary, and Louis XVI finally found a chance to speak with his son. Yet, the surrounding crowd left him red-faced, and he barely managed to squeeze out a sentence: "You’re truly my pride!"
Before Joseph could respond, his father had already retreated nervously under the canopy.
Alexandra stepped forward, taking his arm, whispering: "Mother always insists I go with her to the palace chapel to pray for you, but I’ve gone only a few tis..."
She looked at Joseph, her eyes filled with admiration and infatuation: "Because I know, no one can defeat you. You must surely return triumphantly, and all I need is to welco my great hero on that day."
Joseph’s heart trembled, realizing that even just for his family, everything he had endured on the battlefield was worth it.
The Crown Princess gave him a playful wink: "Besides, I have to visit Strasbourg every few days, so I can’t spend all my ti in the chapel."
Joseph leaned over to whisper in her ear: "I’ve heard from Mr. Lavallette that you’ve done exceptionally well."
Indeed, while the front line blazed with war, Alexandra had an important task, which was to "educate" the specially chosen Russian prisoners of war.
"This is my own revenge as well." Alexandra ground her teeth, though sowhat regretting: "It’s just, they never managed to send them back to their country."
Joseph asked in confusion: "Why?"
According to the original plan, those prisoners should have returned to Russia over two months ago.
"Mr. Lavallette says Saint Petersburg still hasn’t made a move to redeem the prisoners."
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