I am the Crown Prince of France Chapter 532: The Tax Farmer Lavoisier

As the farr on the execution platform continued his testimony, the crowd of over 10,000 on the square clenched their fists in fury. Their teeth ground audibly as the farr described how, after his sister's death, the shaless tax farr had demanded paynt of the fines from the previous year—with interest—bringing the total to a staggering 80 livres.

The crowd could no longer contain their outrage and erupted in a wave of deafening roars:

"Execute this demon!""Kill him! I can't wait another second!""Send him to hell!"

anwhile, the nobles in attendance remained largely indifferent. The plight of a rural peasant barely evoked more than a perfunctory shrug from them. For so particularly depraved individuals—who had engaged in similar exploitation themselves—this mont inspired whispered jokes and lewd laughter.

The presiding execution officer waited until the farr finished speaking, then loudly announced the High Court's verdict, allowing the execution to proceed.

Drums rolled, and the enraged crowd fell silent, their eyes fixed on the towering platform.

A priest approached the condemned tax farr, offering the customary prayers and absolution. The criminal muttered a confession, his voice trembling with fear.

Once the priest stepped aside, a masked executioner with arms thicker than most n's thighs strode forward, hoisting an enormous two-handed sword.

It was only now that Joseph saw the weapon clearly—a massive, broad-bladed greatsword, nearly as tall as an adult man, gleaming coldly under the sunlight.

The tax farr, Bernier, was bent over a wooden beam, his neck locked in a wooden pillory. Suddenly, he began to wail in terror, but before he could finish, the executioner swung the heavy blade with the precision of a windmill. The gleaming edge swept through the air, and in an instant, a fountain of blood spurted forth. Bernier's head fell to the ground like a ripe coconut.

The execution officer stepped forward, picked up the severed head, and raised it high for all to see. The square erupted in thunderous cheers.

The people waved their arms and shouted at the top of their lungs. Decades of pent-up resentnt, frustration, and helplessness burst forth in an unbridled celebration.

The tax farming system had plagued the country for far too long. Everyone present had been victimized—stripped of their last coins and left destitute—by these vile tax farrs. Their hatred was deep and unrelenting, yet they had always been powerless against them.

But now, with this first execution, the people knew that the tax farrs' reign of terror was over. Their future suddenly seed brighter and full of hope.

The farr who had condemned Bernier was now sobbing uncontrollably, murmuring his sister's na as an assistant helped him off the platform.

Next, another tax farr was brought up to the scaffold.

As before, a victim took the stage to recount the cris. This ti, the speaker was a middle-aged woman, dressed modestly yet neatly, exuding a dignified air that marked her as a noble.

With fiery eyes, she began to recount how the condemned had ensnared her husband in a web of "deferred tax paynts," plunging him into debt so severe that he was forced to sell their family business.

The family's misfortune spiraled further. Her daughter, once engaged to a promising young lawyer, was abandoned due to their financial ruin.

Eventually, their once-proud noble lineage, which had endured for over a century, was reduced to living in a squalid tenent in the Saint-Antoine district, surrounded by the stench of sewage. Her husband now spent over 10 hours a day copying docunts for ager pay, his health deteriorating under the strain.

The commoners in the audience called for the execution, but their cries were noticeably less fervent than before. After all, the noblewoman's family had not starved.

The nobles in attendance, however, were incensed. The idea that a despicable tax farr could so thoroughly destroy a respectable, long-standing noble family was infuriating. They joined the chorus of condemnation, shouting crude curses and shaking their fists with uncharacteristic zeal.

When the tax farr's head was struck from his body, the nobles erupted in cheers just as boisterous as those of the commoners.

The executions continued, alternating between commoners and nobles as victims stepped forward to denounce the cris committed against them.

As one head after another rolled, the crowd—nobles and commoners alike—found themselves united in their shared hatred of the tax farrs. By the end, the mood had shifted from sorrow and anger to jubilant camaraderie. So even danced to the beat of the execution drum.

This was precisely Joseph's plan. By allowing victims to publicly denounce the tax farrs, he amplified the people's sympathy and anger, centing the legitimacy of this purge.

Now, whether they were commoners or nobles, no one would feel even a shred of sympathy for the tax farrs. The fervent, unified crowd before him was proof.

From this point forward, whatever actions Joseph took against the tax farming syndicate would encounter little resistance. On the contrary, the harsher his asures, the more public support he would garner.

As dusk fell, the day's executions concluded. The two exhausted executioners left the platform, which was now stained with blood and littered with 19 severed heads.

Joseph, too, had spent the entire day at the square. Though his battlefield experience allowed him to maintain his composure, he resolved not to attend future executions. This primitive form of justice was simply too grueso. And with hundreds more executions scheduled, the process would likely drag on for weeks.

Two Days Later

While reviewing tax records and financial reports, Joseph's eyes suddenly narrowed.

One docunt listed the convicted tax farrs' assets and detailed their illicit gains. Among the nas, one stood out—Lavoisier.

The report revealed that during his tenure as a tax farr overseeing Paris' tobacco tax, the renowned scientist Antoine Lavoisier had been diluting tobacco with water, earning an illicit profit of 8,000 to 10,000 livres annually.

Joseph rubbed his temples. Historical accounts had often portrayed Lavoisier's execution by the Jacobins as a grave injustice, a loss that had set French chemistry back decades.

But now it seed clear—while the punishnt may have been excessive, Lavoisier was far from innocent. The tax farming system was a cesspool, and even the most virtuous could not escape unscathed.

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