Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Before Joseph stood a jewelry store spanning some twenty meters wide, but at the moment its doors were half-closed, with the sign of Nagel Jewelry Store still hanging.

According to what Eman had learned, the owner of this store had married a Spaniard and thus planned to sell the property to move to Spain.

Joseph entered the store to look around, finding it quite new with two floors, each roughly over five hundred square meters, solid oak flooring, and all the corners of the room and banisters of the stairs wrapped in brass—its decor was very particular, exuding a kind of restrained and exquisite beauty.

He didn’t dawdle, quickly reaching an agreement with the store owner’s agent and bought the shop for 36,000 livres.

For the busiest commercial district in Paris, this price was rather fair.

Eman went to complete the transaction, while Joseph looked around and said to the accompanying architect, “Mr. Archid, I need your help with some modifications to this store.”

Yes, among the Crown Prince’s personal entourage, an architect was always on hand, though there was hardly any work for him most of the time; today, at last, there was a use for his skills.

“Please give your instructions, Your Highness.”

Joseph pointed to the wall facing the street: “Replace all these walls with glass, as large as possible, allowing passersby to see inside the store at a glance.”

“Replace all these wooden counters with custom-made glass display cases about a meter high, and the merchandise will be placed directly on top so customers can touch them at any time.

“The lighting must also be changed. Use the same type of crystal chandeliers as in my reception room. Absolute illumination is necessary, every corner of the store must be brightly lit.

“All exterior walls painted in a fresh and soft tone…”

Archid kept recording in his notebook until Joseph turned to him and asked, “That’s pretty much it, how long will these modifications take and how much will it cost?”

The architect hurriedly flipped through his notes, hesitantly said, “About half a month, and probably 3,000 livres.”

Joseph nodded, “I will give you 5,000 livres to finish within a week, can you do it?”

“Yes, Your Highness, I will do my utmost.” Archid thought for a moment and added, “With all due respect, Your Highness, even if Angel Water was displayed in New Bridge’s grocery store, it would still sell out immediately, and this shop is already quite good. Why bother spending so much to renovate it?”

Joseph smiled and said, “Because, besides Angel Water, the shop itself is also merchandise.”

Archid looked surprised: “You intend to sell the shop too?”

“No, I’m speaking of a different kind of merchandise; consider this store as a sample.”

…

Netherlands.

Within a military encampment 4 kilometers south of Amsterdam.

An elderly man in a green military uniform, with half-white hair and a slight tilt to his left chin, frowned at a map. After a long moment, he finally spoke: “I believe that we should abandon Amstelfen and retreat south of Amsterdam, using the river as a barrier…”

The man in a deep white military uniform beside him immediately interrupted loudly, his tone tinged with sarcasm: “Colonel Wolster, my men and I have traveled great distances to the Netherlands, not to witness your army’s ‘evading the enemy’ tactics.”

Wolster had the final say in the Dutch Army, but facing the man with only the rank of captain, he dared not rage, only stressing his words more: “Mr. Dibowa, the Prussian Army’s vanguard is only 15 kilometers from Amstelfen, and the town itself has no fortifications to defend. Do we intend to sit here and wait for death?”

Amstelfen is a town immediately bordering the southern part of Amsterdam. If lost, Amsterdam would be completely exposed to the Prussian Army.

The French captain continued sarcastically, “A fortress? Your grand army couldn’t even hold onto Utrecht, such a stronghold, let alone Amstelfen with ten fortresses—I’m afraid it wouldn’t be of much help to you.”

Wolster’s face turned red, “What’s the use of talking about this? What’s most important now is to decide how to face the enemy!”

“Attack,” Dibowa said loudly, “French soldiers have always crushed their enemies with an offense!”

A Dutch officer hurriedly interjected, “Monsieur Dibowa, even with the recently conscripted soldiers, we barely have over 9,000 men, but the opposing Prussian Army has over 20,000. Under such circumstances, an attack would be no different from suicide.”

Dibowa laughed, “20,000 is the total strength of the entire Prussian forces, the vanguard that can reach us certainly won’t have that many.

“What’s more, thanks to your earlier retreat being too fast, you’ve forced the Prussian Army to pursue at a high pace for over ten days, and given the dense network of Dutch waterways, most of their cannons will likely be unable to keep up with the vanguard troops.

“While we have over ten cannons at our disposal!”

Wolster looked at him with wide eyes, “Are you really planning to attack the Prussian Army?!”

“Why not?” Dibowa looked back at him, “The Prussian Army certainly won’t expect the continuously retreating Dutch Army to dare a sudden counterattack, hence their guard will be down. This is our opportunity.”

Wolster, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze, looked down and said, “No matter how brave your soldiers may be, even if they are armed with cannons, such a rash advance upon the enemy…”

Dibowa shook his head, “No, not my soldiers, but yours.”

“Mine, my people? How could that work…”

Dibowa cut him off again, “Yes, your people, and you will use the new recruits to attack the Prussian vanguard. Then let them act as if they are routed… oh, they will surely be routed.

“While my men, along with your main forces, will wait for the Prussian Army to catch up in the narrow area between the Sibella River and the Abcoude Lake, with all my cannons set up right here.”

The Dutch officers, upon hearing this, saw a glimmer of hope, envisioning the Prussian Army falling into a surprise ambush and fleeing in panic.

Ever since Prussia intervened in the Netherlands, they had not won a single battle, and at this moment, their desire for victory was immense.

Wolster frowned and shook his head, “Even if we could defeat the vanguard of the Prussians, it would be useless. Their main forces would arrive soon after, and we would still be unable to hold out.

“The mission the Congress has given me is to hold out for five days.”

Dibowa corrected him, “Before holding out for five days, you need a victory that repels the Prussian offensive, or else you could just keep retreating to Holland, and you could ‘hold out’ for more than a week.”

He looked at the young officer standing stiffly to the side, with curly hair and a nose as straight as a sword, “André (note 1), how long do you think it will take the Prussian main forces to reach Amsterdam?”

The young officer stood tall and said, “Commander, if left to march unimpeded, they will cross Amstelfen before nightfall tomorrow. But if we can harass their supply lines, that time frame will be significantly extended.”

“Good,” Dibowa gave him an approving look, “Then this task is yours to complete.”

“Yes, sir!”

Wolster exclaimed in surprise, “Lieutenant Davout only has a little over sixty cavalrymen, how could he possibly attack the Prussian supply lines?”

“No, not just sixty,” Dibowa shook his head and smiled, “but your 650 cavalrymen as well.”

[Note 1: André Davout is a fictional character requested by the readers, set as the brother of the historical military leader Louis Nicolas Davout.]