Queen Marie glared at the sketch in front of her, her face stern with dissatisfaction. "Is that the extent of the punishnt?"
Justice Minister Breteuil nodded reluctantly. "Your Majesty, according to the current laws, this is the most severe penalty that can be imposed on General Bessonval. Unless there's evidence proving he deliberately allowed the bandits to approach the Prince."
French law at the ti was incredibly lenient towards the nobility. Ten years earlier, the Countess de La Motte, Jeanne, had pretended to be a maid of Queen Marie and arranged for a prostitute to impersonate the Queen, tricking Cardinal Rohan into buying a necklace worth 2 million livres for the "Queen." Jeanne then passed the necklace to the Count de La Motte, who sold it in England.
It wasn't until the jeweler complained about missed paynts to the real Queen that the scam was uncovered. Even with such a serious cri, Rohan and the Count de La Motte were acquitted, while Jeanne, despite her noble status, was only imprisoned in the Bastille—and even then, she escaped a year later, with so suspecting Duke d'Orléans had helped her.
Given this, Bessonval's situation was severe enough that exile was the harshest punishnt possible.
Queen Marie glanced around at the faces of Breteuil, Briand, Maunoir, and the other ministers, who all nodded in agreent. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine, then exile it is. But as for the location... I believe we have a small island in East Africa, what's it called?"
Viscount Clossod, who was present as a witness, imdiately replied, "Seychelles, Your Majesty."
"Yes, Seychelles," the Queen nodded firmly, turning back to Breteuil. "That will be Bessonval's destination."
Seychelles was nearly 10,000 miles from Paris, and with 18th-century navigation technology, there was no guarantee that anyone could even survive the journey.
Though Bessonval had yet to be tried, with the Queen's decree, his fate was essentially sealed.
In the eting room, none of the ministers, including those from the military, dared to speak in Bessonval's defense. Not only were the King and Queen furious, but the attack was far too serious, especially with a foreign princess present, making the situation an international embarrassnt.
Breteuil, sensing the Queen's mood, continued, "Your Majesty, regarding the other mbers of the French Guards... they bear significant responsibility for failing to prevent the attackers from approaching the Prince."
"Given that we still don't know how those bandits got so close, all officers and soldiers of the French Guards should be detained and investigated. Those found to be suspicious will be handed over to a military tribunal for trial."
The Queen waved her hand wearily. "Baron Breteuil, you and Viscount Vérelle will work with the gendarrie to investigate all officers and soldiers of the French Guards.
"Until their innocence is proven, all officers are to be suspended from duty and confined to their barracks. Report your findings to regularly."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Hearing this, War Minister Saint-Priest breathed a sigh of relief—Bessonval was certainly done for, but as long as the gendarrie and military tribunal handled the matter, the other officers of the French Guards should be safe.
After all, they were all part of the military system, and the investigation would likely be a re formality, with a declaration that the officers had no involvent in the incident.
As the elite force stationed in Paris, the French Guards' officers were well-connected, with intricate ties throughout the military aristocracy. Saint-Priest himself had a connection—a cousin-in-law serving as the commander of a cavalry regint within the French Guards. If the Queen had ordered her own people to conduct the investigation, things would have been much more troubleso.
Just as Saint-Priest thought the matter was settled, Clossod bowed to the Queen and said, "Your Majesty, given the French Guards' demonstrated incompetence, I believe they are no longer fit to guard Paris. Perhaps we should replace them with a more reliable force to ensure the city's security."
The Queen nodded in agreent and looked at the other ministers. "What do you think?"
Saint-Priest remained silent.
Interior Minister Maunoir forced a "sincere" smile and said, "Your Majesty, with the entire French Guards under investigation and unable to perform their duties, we should indeed deploy another unit to secure Paris."
The night before, Joseph had sent soone to inform Maunoir to coordinate with Clossod.
Briand also nodded. "Your Majesty, now that the Southern Netherlands border is quiet, it seems wasteful to keep the Flanders Regint stationed there. They would be better suited to guarding Paris."
Baron Breteuil's eyes lit up, and he enthusiastically agreed, "Your Majesty, I also believe the Flanders Regint is an excellent choice."
The commander of the Flanders Regint was one of the few nobles who, like Breteuil, were staunch supporters of the King. Bringing them to Paris would significantly strengthen his political position.
The Minister of Registers was in Birmingham, dealing with the final touches on the Anglo-French trade negotiations, and the Foreign Minister was only just returning from Russia, still in Austria.
With no opposition present, Queen Marie made her decision. "Summon the Flanders Regint to Paris. The French Guards will be stationed in Moret-sur-Loing."
She rembered this small town as the hideout of the Blood Knife Gang and decided it was the perfect place to send the disgraced French Guards.
…
An hour later, in the Versailles Palace gardens, Duke d'Orléans was smiling as he spoke to Marquis Saint-Priest.
"So, for now, it's best not to approach the gendarrie directly. I'll leave it to you to convey the ssage. No one could have predicted this attack; even King Louis XV was nearly stabbed in broad daylight. We can't allow innocent officers to be unfairly punished."
The French Guards had been his stronghold for years, and he had invested a great deal—perhaps over a hundred thousand livres—into maintaining the loyalty of those officers. He couldn't just stand by and let them be dismissed or exiled.
The War Minister nodded confidently. "Rest assured, with this fund at our disposal, the gendarrie will be lenient. Even if soone does end up in court, I'll handle it at the military tribunal."
Duke d'Orléans had promised him a hefty sum of 250,000 livres, of which he expected to pocket at least half. After all, the French Guards' officers would also be bribing the gendarrie, so he wouldn't have to cover all the costs himself.
Relieved he had missed the earlier eting, Duke d'Orléans bowed slightly. "I'm counting on you."
…
In the Prince's quarters, dozens of young noblewon stood around the severely "injured" Prince, their hearts filled with worry. They wished they could have taken the bullet for him and silently cursed the incompetent French Guards a thousand tis over.
(End of Chapter)
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