I am the Crown Prince of France

Chapter 114: Gaining Without Effort

As the two men were talking, a slow and steady drumbeat began to sound from the north side of the training ground.

The instructors on the field immediately called a halt and began gathering the squads. The team of officers closest to the gate quickly formed ranks and marched toward a nearby gray building.

Dubois patted Alexandre on the shoulder and nodded toward the gray building. "It's lunchtime. Ah, what day is it today?"

"Wednesday."

"Oh, right, Wednesday. You're in luck; today we have beef stew and buttered pea soup."

In the spacious dining hall, Alexandre looked around at the hundreds of cadets waiting for their meal and asked quietly, "François, aren't we going to the officers' mess?"

Dubois answered matter-of-factly, "This is the officers' mess, and it's also the cadets' mess."

"But…" Alexandre's thoughts went to the black bread and salted meat served in the army where he had served. "Are we really eating here?"

Dubois understood why his friend was puzzled.

In the French military, officers and soldiers were from two different social classes, and the police were no different. Soldiers or officers were equivalent to common people, while military and police officers were nobility. Their living conditions were vastly different, and they would never dine together, much less eat the same food.

He nodded and explained, "Yes, this is how we do things here. Officers and cadets dine together; I've gotten used to it."

As he spoke, an officer approached with a tray, respectfully saluted both of them, and then placed two servings of food in front of them.

Alexandre was stunned. It was beef stew and buttered pea soup, accompanied by white bread and half a boiled egg.

He quickly turned to look at the other tables, only to find that the cadets were being served the exact same meal!

He looked at Dubois in shock and whispered, "Do the cadets really eat this well?"

Dubois handed him a fork, shaking his head. "We only have beef stew on Wednesdays, and on Fridays, we get lamb or turkey. The rest of the week, it's just pork or fish."

Alexandre's eyes widened in disbelief. In his army, the soldiers' rations were bread, wine, and a small piece of salted meat. The stew in front of these cadets was equivalent to three days' worth of meat for those soldiers.

And this was freshly cooked, hot, and aromatic—far superior to salted meat.

No wonder these officers could run a league with 18-pound packs in 15 minutes. This was the result of excellent nutrition!

He looked at Dubois again and asked, "How much does this cost?"

"Five to seven sous per person per day. The Crown Prince insists that food should never be skimped on."

"So much?" Alexandre could hardly believe it. These were police cadets, yet they ate better than his soldiers, who only got 3 sous a day.

He suddenly realized something. "François, why do you keep mentioning the Crown Prince?"

"Because this academy was established by His Highness," Dubois said, chewing on his beef. "The funding comes directly from him, and he set the training syllabus. Oh, and he often comes to observe classes or participate in training."

As he spoke, a loud voice came from the entrance: "Everyone, rise!"

Instantly, everyone in the dining hall stood up with a loud "shush," followed by a young and familiar voice: "Please, everyone, be seated. Don't let me disrupt your meal."

Alexandre turned his eyes toward the source and saw a young man in a Paris police uniform entering the hall, accompanied by several high-ranking academy officials.

Dubois lowered his voice, "See? I told you, His Highness often comes by."

"That's the Crown Prince?"

"Yes, usually on Mondays and Thursdays, but sometimes he drops by on other days too."

It wasn't until Joseph took his seat at a table that the other officers followed suit.

Soon, a few officers, proud to have the honor, served the Crown Prince and the chief academic officer their meals. It was considered a great privilege to serve the Crown Prince, an honor only bestowed upon those who had excelled in training drills.

"Thank you very much," Joseph nodded in appreciation to the officers, then noticed an unfamiliar face next to Dubois.

"Major Dubois, who is this?"

Dubois and Alexandre quickly stepped forward, removing their hats to salute.

Dubois introduced the man beside him: "Your Highness, this is Major Berthier, the man you inquired about earlier."

Alexandre Berthier appeared very nervous and immediately saluted again. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness."

Joseph's eyes lit up. He had only decided to drop by today for a logistics class, but now he had an unexpected surprise.

The future Chief of Staff himself was finally here; he had to keep him!

He smiled at Berthier and nodded, "Please, have a seat. I've heard about your excellent performance at the Battle of Yorktown. Without your meticulous planning, the British might have held out much longer."

Berthier sat upright. "It was indeed a tough battle, Your Highness, but we ultimately secured victory and honor."

Joseph then casually steered the conversation to the Battle of Yorktown, engaging Berthier in discussion.

"Oh? Was it Major Dubois who invited you to visit the academy?"

Joseph continued, subtly giving Dubois an approving look.

"Oh, yes, Your Highness," Berthier still appeared a bit tense as he mumbled, "Actually, I have a relative in Paris who is getting married, so I came for that. François mentioned in his letter that he was working at the Paris Police Academy and said it was a rather unique place…"

Joseph waited until he finished and then asked casually, "By the way, Major Berthier, you're currently stationed in Soissons, correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Dubois leaned in and whispered, "Your Highness, Alexandre has been serving in the Engineer Corps. He came to Paris to look for opportunities to transfer back here, but he probably doesn't have the 'necessary conditions' yet."

Joseph understood that "conditions" referred to the expenses involved in pulling strings, and he felt sorry that the future Chief of Staff was having such a rough time in the old military system.

But for Joseph, it was a stroke of luck. He needed someone like Berthier on his team.

He smiled at Berthier and said, "Perhaps I could recommend you to the Marquis de Saint-Prist. A position in the Royal Guard or the French Guards might be available."

Berthier was stunned that the Crown Prince would offer him such help and immediately stood up in excitement. "Your Highness, I can't thank you enough!"

…

Besonsvar pulled up his collar against the biting wind, his eyes nearly shut by the cold. "Damn this weather."

He shook the reins and turned to the officer beside him. "How much farther?"

"General, less than three leagues."

"Alright, let's pick up the pace."

"Yes, General."

As the officer gave the order, the drumbeat quickened, and the hundreds of soldiers in the French Guard quickened their march.

Besonsvar muttered under his breath, "Why couldn't those noble ladies wait until it warmed up a bit…"

(End of Chapter)

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