I Became A Genius Of The French Royal Family [EN]: Chapter 44

The Fall of the Court

It’s hard to understand from a modern perspective, but until the early modern period, executions were major public events.

The fact that most of those sentenced to death were heinous criminals contributed to this.

Citizens flocked to the square to mock the condemned and eagerly awaited the moment their heads would be severed. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of morbid curiosity and a thirst for justice.

Naturally, the competition to secure a spot in the front row was incredibly fierce.

This was due to the widespread superstitious belief that the blood of the executed possessed mystical powers. People believed it could cure diseases, bring good luck, or even grant immortality.

They each carried handkerchiefs, trying to get even a little of the condemned’s blood on them, hoping to capture some of that power.

Especially, the higher the status of the person being executed, the greater the competition. The blood of a nobleman was considered far more potent than that of a common criminal.

Naturally, the execution of these legal robe nobles [members of the Parlement, the high court of justice] drew crowds like clouds. The spectacle was a potent symbol of the King’s power and a stark warning to anyone who dared to challenge it.

The place where the execution was carried out was Louis XV Square, where the trial had been held. This was a deliberate choice, reinforcing the connection between justice and punishment.

In the original history, countless people who were sacrificed during the French Revolution had their heads chopped off here. The square would become synonymous with the Reign of Terror.

Considering this, it could be said to be an appropriate yet coincidental location. The echoes of future bloodshed seemed to linger in the air.

“Death! Death! Death!”

The citizens packed into the square were so lively that one might mistake them for attending a sporting event. The bloodlust was palpable, a stark reminder of the brutal realities of the time.

“The atmosphere here is a bit different from what I expected.”

Marie muttered in a small voice as she looked down at the square from a slight distance. The festive mood surrounding such a grim event was unsettling.

The frenzied atmosphere of the scene did not seem to please her. She had perhaps been sheltered from the harsher aspects of life.

“Were you ever present at such events when you were in Austria, Madam?”

“No. That’s why it feels so unfamiliar. Perhaps I’ve only seen the warmer side of the world.”

In truth, it was my first time as well, but I wasn’t as shocked as Marie. My past lives had hardened me to such sights.

I already knew it intellectually, and having experienced death five times, I had become desensitized to such emotions. The fear and revulsion that others felt were muted within me.

Even seeing nobles begging for their lives as they were dragged to the guillotine didn’t stir any emotion in me. It was simply another scene in a long and often bloody drama.

“Do you think they should have been given a different punishment than death?”

“…No, it’s not that. It’s just that I didn’t expect so many people to gather and create such a festive atmosphere. The people being executed are heinous criminals who tried to kill you, aren’t they? I think they’re receiving a perfectly justified punishment.”

Marie put on a stern expression. She was trying to reconcile her sense of justice with her discomfort at the spectacle.

Eyes sparkling like blue sapphires. The aquamarine irises, strained to appear cold, seemed endearingly cute. Her attempt to appear detached only made her seem more vulnerable.

She turned her head slightly as I stared intently at her face. Then, with an awkward expression, she grumbled.

“Whenever I try to have a serious conversation, you always look at me like that.”

“Can’t I look at my lovely wife? Is that a problem?”

“There might be people watching. What will they think if you’re too obvious?”

“What would they think? They’d think we’re a loving couple, like two mandarin ducks [a symbol of marital happiness in many cultures].”

The somewhat heavy atmosphere was dispelled. My lightheartedness seemed to ease her discomfort.

In fact, Marie probably wouldn’t have wanted to come to such a place if she could have helped it. Her presence was a matter of duty, not desire.

However, since most of the royals and nobles were present, she, as the Princess Consort, couldn’t avoid it. Her position demanded that she be seen, even at such a gruesome event.

Even so, it couldn’t be pleasant to watch the heads of dozens of people being chopped off one after another. The sheer scale of the execution was likely overwhelming.

I subtly reached under the chair and took her hand. A small gesture of comfort and support.

Even though we shared the same bed, I still enjoyed this fresh feeling, perhaps because we were still newlyweds. The intimacy was still new and exciting.

But then.

“As rumored, the two of you seem to be getting along very well.”

Just as the atmosphere was getting good, an uninvited guest intruded. The Duke’s timing was impeccable, in the worst possible way.

The Duke of Chartres, Louis Philippe Joseph, who would later become the Duke of Orléans, approached with a peculiar smile. His presence was a disruption, a discordant note in the delicate balance we had achieved.

“It’s been a while. I wanted to greet you at the courthouse the other day, but I couldn’t find the opportunity, which left me uneasy.”

“…Is that so? That’s unfortunate.”

It would have been really nice if you hadn’t found the opportunity this time either. Why do you have to butt in and spoil the mood? My annoyance was barely concealed.

The Duke of Chartres, who had approached right in front of me, bowed gracefully before Marie. His charm was practiced and insincere.

“Greetings, Princess Consort. You’ve become even more beautiful than when I saw you at the wedding. My father, the Duke of Orléans, also asked me to convey his regards.”

“Thank you. I’ve heard countless stories about how great the Duke of Orléans is. I would be delighted if I could meet him in person someday.”

“I’ll try to arrange a meeting in the near future. By the way…”

The Duke of Chartres naturally took a seat next to me. He was inserting himself into our conversation, claiming a familiarity that didn’t exist.

Unable to openly show my displeasure, I let out a brief sigh, but the Duke of Chartres calmly pointed to the square and continued.

“Wasn’t the trial held the other day truly remarkable? I couldn’t have imagined that His Majesty would move so decisively.”

“He is the King of Great France. How could a mere commoner fathom his grand designs?”

“Hmm…But he wasn’t like this before. If it were the His Majesty from before, he would have compromised to a moderate extent. There’s no precedent for him taking such strong measures.”

“It was a verdict for an unprecedented crime of attempting to assassinate a member of the royal family, so it was only natural.”

The Duke of Chartres narrowed his eyes and straightened his posture. His demeanor shifted, revealing a hint of the ambition that lay beneath the surface.

His face was smiling, but his ice-cold eyes were not smiling at all. The smile was a mask, concealing his true intentions.

“Is that really the case? His Majesty seems to be showing movements as if he has suddenly become a completely different person. This execution alone is an example. He introduced a new execution device that carries out executions so quickly, and in this current situation, as if he were aiming for something. This will be seen as a kind of symbol for stamping out those who oppose reform.”

“…Your analytical skills are quite impressive.”

“That’s not all. Why did His Majesty suddenly turn his blade towards the court? Even when the court was gleefully beating up the Prime Minister, His Majesty didn’t show much reaction.”

At this point, I could guess why Chartres had come to my side to needle me like this. He was probing, trying to gauge my influence and involvement.

However, there was no reason for me to acknowledge it. I would play the innocent, deflecting his suspicions.

“It is only natural for a truly skilled hunter to disguise himself so that his prey does not become wary.”

“I see. It seems you have a different opinion from me. I was thinking that His Majesty has a very resourceful strategist by his side.”

“The Prime Minister is a man of great intellect, so that may not be wrong either.”

“……”

Chartres did not take his suspicious gaze off me. He was unconvinced, still searching for the truth.

But I was just as surprised. His boldness was unnerving.

Based on the information I had gathered so far, this guy was clearly involved in my assassination in some way. His presence was a calculated risk.

Even if he wasn’t the mastermind, there was no doubt that he was involved in some capacity. He was a player in a dangerous game.

So, how could he be so carelessly hanging around me like this? Was he trying to intimidate me, or was he simply overconfident?

Or is this a feint to deliberately divert my wariness elsewhere? A clever distraction to conceal his true motives.

Either way, it seems clear that he is not an easy man to deal with. He was cunning, ambitious, and potentially dangerous.

“Whatever the Duke of Chartres may be thinking, let’s focus on the scene for now. It seems like it’s about to start.”

The Duke of Chartres, who turned his gaze in the direction my finger was pointing, nodded and closed his incessantly moving mouth. He was a master of control, able to mask his thoughts and emotions.

Instead, he intently watched the guillotine standing squarely in the middle of the square. He seemed fascinated by the mechanics of death.

He seemed quite interested in how that device would work. The guillotine was a symbol of the revolution, a tool of both justice and terror.

And even though it was a bit far away, I could roughly hear what was being said in front of the guillotine. The sounds carried on the tense air, adding to the drama of the scene.

The executioner, Charles-Henri Sanson, tied the hands of the dragged-out judges behind their backs and led them onto the platform where the guillotine was installed. He was a professional, carrying out his duty with a grim efficiency.

“Do you have any last words?”

This was the final opportunity to leave behind a last testament in this world while still alive. A chance for redemption, or a final act of defiance.

At this time, it was customary for the citizens to stop jeering and listen to the story, unless they dragged out the time or said something absurd. A brief moment of respect before the final act.

Blanmesnil, who was the first to stand on the execution platform, calmly accepted his fate. He faced death with a stoic dignity.

“I have no one to blame but myself for having lacked the insight to see people, which has led me to this fate. I can only hope that God will forgive my past transgressions.”

Such a person does not attract sympathetic gazes, but neither is he subjected to severe jeering. His acceptance of responsibility earned him a measure of respect.

Of course, not everyone accepted their punishment as cleanly as Blanmesnil. Some railed against their fate, cursing their enemies and pleading for mercy.

“Ugh! This is absurd! You traitorous bastards! You will never die peacefully either!”

There were those like Dampierre who spewed venomous curses until the end. His defiance was a final act of rebellion.

“Ah, no! I don’t want to die! Please save me, Your Majesty! Please save me! I don’t want to die!”

Most people wept and pleaded in the face of death. The fear of oblivion was a powerful motivator.

After listening to the last words of the condemned, Sanson secured their bodies to the wooden plank that went up to the guillotine. The process was swift and efficient, designed to minimize suffering.

Then, he lifted the wooden plank so that the condemned’s body faced the ground, pushed it in, and firmly secured the neck with a yoke. The condemned were now completely helpless, their fate sealed.

“Ugh… Ugh!”

The terrified judges struggled, but it was in vain. Their struggles were futile, a desperate attempt to escape the inevitable.

Sanson solemnly prayed for their souls and placed his hand on the device that would drop the guillotine blade. A final act of piety before unleashing the instrument of death.

“Our Father, who art in heaven… hallowed be thy name… hallowed be… hallowed be…”

The sight of the condemned unable to properly continue even their last prayer due to the fear of when the blade would fall. The terror was palpable, a suffocating presence.

I could hear Marie next to me inhaling sharply in tension. She was struggling to maintain her composure.

I hoped she wouldn’t be too shocked. The experience was likely traumatic, especially for someone of her sensitive nature.

But such emotions were fleeting. My focus was on the larger game, the political machinations that were unfolding around me.

Thud! Crash!

With the sound of something heavy falling, the bodies of the struggling judges slumped. The sound was sickening, a brutal punctuation mark to their lives.

“Waaaaaaaah!”

At the same time, the crowd’s frenzied shouts echoed like thunder. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a collective release of pent-up emotions.

At first, there were complaints that the execution was ending too quickly, but the sheer number of legal robe nobles being executed quickly silenced such voices. The scale of the execution was unprecedented, even for this era.

The psychology of the crowd cheering as people’s heads were chopped off one after another was a bit chilling. The mob mentality was a dangerous force, easily manipulated.

Marie closed her eyes tightly when the number of people executed exceeded five. She could no longer bear to watch.

The stimulation might have been too strong for her. The constant violence was overwhelming, even for someone accustomed to the excesses of court life.

“It’s enough to have seen this much. Let’s get up now. It seems like the royal family is starting to gather.”

“Ah, then shall I join you? I happen to have some tea that helps with mental stability. I’ll give it to the Princess Consort as a gift, as she must have been very surprised.”

The Duke of Chartres butted in again, without a sense of timing. His persistence was annoying, but also revealing.

Still, there was no particular reason to refuse this time. It would be impolite, and might arouse suspicion.

It wasn’t because I coveted the gift, but because it seemed like that guy was going to stick to me like glue anyway, and from now on, that would be impossible. Better to accept his offer and be done with it.

Just in time, Mopeau strode towards me and spoke. His arrival was perfectly timed, a convenient escape from an unwanted situation.

“Your Highness. His Majesty has summoned you regarding the issue of the repairs to the Tuileries Palace. He wants to finish the discussion before the proclamation is announced, so it would be best if you went quickly.”

“Is that so? Then, unfortunately, Duke of Chartres, let’s continue our unfinished conversation next time. I must go to see His Majesty. Oh, and I will gratefully accept the tea you mentioned.”

“…Yes.”

Even if I’m leaving, I should take the gift that’s being offered. Never waste an opportunity.

The tea leaves imported from Qing China aren’t cheap. The Duke’s generosity was likely motivated by ulterior motives, but I would gladly accept his offering.

No matter how thick-skinned the Duke of Chartres is, he can’t interfere with a conversation with the King. Royal command trumped even his ambition.

His lips twisted slightly as he was forced to dedicate the tea. He was clearly displeased, but unable to object.

I got up from my seat, making it very clear that I was too sorry to not be able to talk more. My departure was a strategic retreat, leaving him frustrated and empty-handed.

It was a stroke of genius to have laid down an appropriate excuse in preparation for someone annoyingly grabbing me. Planning ahead was essential in this game.

I arrived at the place where Louis XV was waiting, satisfied that I had given that slick guy a small blow. A minor victory, but satisfying nonetheless.

“Your Majesty, you were looking for me?”

“Oh, yes.”

Even though everything went according to plan, Louis XV’s face was not very bright. The executions had clearly affected him.

His somewhat sad eyes were directed at the guillotine in the square. He was grappling with the weight of his decisions.

“Does Your Majesty also think the punishment was too harsh?”

“Of course not. The act of sending assassins to you alone was enough to make execution unavoidable. Added to that were numerous acts of corruption, so they received the punishment they deserved.”

“Your words are wise.”

“Still, they were my subjects. If I had taken a strong stance earlier, they wouldn’t have gone so far out of control. Now that I think about it, it feels like fixing the stable after losing the horse [taking action too late].”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, even if you lose the horse, you must fix the stable. If you plan to raise horses again in the future, that is.”

Louis XV opened his eyes wide and then laughed heartily. My words had resonated with him, offering a path forward.

“Yes. You’re right. It doesn’t make sense to do nothing just because it’s late.”

“That’s right. If Your Majesty doesn’t push forward further here, the nobles will only become more arrogant. It will give them the conviction that no matter how strongly Your Majesty acts, you will eventually stop.”

“…Every word is correct. You mean I have to tighten the reins even more now? I understand. I will continue to refer to your words in the future. By the way, Mopeau praises you so much that his mouth is dry. He said that your contribution was the greatest in this matter, and I agree.”

“What could I have done? I was just riding on the authority that Your Majesty possesses.”

Considering the King’s personality, I must continue to praise him and instill confidence in him. Flattery was a powerful tool, especially with someone as insecure as Louis XV.

Praise makes not only whales dance, but also people. A well-placed compliment could work wonders.

And this type of person will definitely return the favor as much as they are pushed. He was eager to please, and I would use that to my advantage.

“Now that we’ve weeded out the court thanks to you, shall I entrust the normalization process to you as well? I’m thinking of giving you the power to appoint the newly appointed Chief Justices. What do you think?”

“No. If I wield such appointment powers, there will be people who will look at me with envy and suspicion. I think it would be a much better method for you to listen to Prime Minister Mopeau’s opinion and personally draw up the list of candidates.”

“Haha…But then you, the greatest contributor, won’t get anything.”

“I didn’t do it for a reward from the beginning. The establishment of the royal authority is what I desire most.”

Anyway, even if I were to become the Chief Justice, there would be no influence at the point when the court’s privileges have been completely abolished. The position was now largely symbolic.

I can leave such a hollow position to Mopeau and the King to take care of. Let them squabble over the scraps.

Anyway, Mopeau is now as good as my man, so I can put anyone I want in the position of judge. He was a puppet, dancing to my tune.

There was something else I had to get my hands on. Something far more valuable than a meaningless title.

“However, I think it would be good to give proper compensation to the Lavoisier family, who believed in me and followed me. How about entrusting him with the vacant position of Director-General of Publications? His loyalty to Your Majesty is great, so he will fulfill his role admirably.”

“Oh, that’s right. I was wondering what kind of reward to give him. Director-General of Publications… That would certainly be appropriate.”

Even though most of the court’s powers were swept away, the control over the press was not touched. The media was the key to shaping public opinion.

From the beginning, what I coveted most was that position, not anything else. Control of information was power.

The power to appoint the Chief Justice is not even worth a rolling stone compared to the power to control the press. The media could make or break reputations, influence elections, and even incite revolutions.

If I give him that kind of position, Lavoisier’s loyalty to me will reach its peak, and I will also save face with his son. The Lavoisiers were valuable assets, and their loyalty was worth cultivating.

The father only needs to massage the press diligently, but there is still a lot left to extract from the son, so it is necessary to constantly manage him like this. The son’s scientific expertise could be invaluable in the future.

Above all, Louis XV’s gaze, looking at my superficially selfless appearance, shone with a light that could not be more admirable. He saw me as a selfless patriot, dedicated to the good of France.

His voice even trembled slightly, indicating how deeply moved he was. He was completely taken in by my act.

“Your heart, thinking of the country and the royal family, is so deep that no more words are needed. I will be on your side no matter what happens, so please continue to lend me your wisdom.”

“Of course. From now on, it is Your Majesty’s era. The protagonist who will make France great again will be none other than Your Majesty.”

Louis XV placed both hands on my shoulders as I bowed respectfully. He was placing his trust in me, unaware of my true motives.

I could clearly guess from his trembling hands how much excitement he was feeling. He was determined to restore France to its former glory.

He must be firmly determined to restore the country, which is falling apart, to its original state. That was the key to my own ambitions.

That is what I want most. A strong and stable France was essential for my plans to succeed.

The day Louis XV’s brilliant era ends, next will be my era. The future was mine to shape.