Queen Mary flipped through the report submitted by Baron Joann on the situation in Tunisia, a document she had in fact already perused several times the day before, and frowned:
"Attacks, always attacks, who exactly is behind this?"
Baron Joann stood at the end of the conference table, cautiously saying:
"It's still unclear, Your Majesty. However, the attacks seem to be related to the Tunisian Guard."
Queen Mary asked some more specifics about Tunisia and then turned to the ministers present:
"What are your thoughts on this matter?"
The Duke of Orleans glanced at the empty seat of Foreign Minister Vilran—who had been sent to the Nordic regions by Brian to "tend to" the war between Sweden and Russia—and suddenly felt a hollow sense of loss. Less than a year ago, his power commanded nearly half of the seats in Cabinet meetings, but now, he was left to fight alone.
He cleared his throat and nodded to the Queen:
"Your Majesty, actually, such situations often occur in the colonies of various countries. For instance, Congo, South Africa, Peru—there are riots every now and then. The Americans even managed to completely expel the British from the thirteen states.
"Yes, America. You see, the British fought there for seven or eight years, lost over thirty thousand soldiers, spent billions of livres, and in the end, still faced defeat.
"Therefore, I believe we should make every effort to avoid a situation in Tunisia similar to what the British faced."
He had secretly met with the British ambassador to France, Hartley, a week ago. The latter wanted him to help influence French policy so as to withdraw from Tunisia.
The reward for him was a great deal of political gain, including having Vilran preside over the signing of an agreement that seemed favorable to France, to help him gain political prestige, among other things. Now, Vilran was the Duke of Orleans's only ally in the Cabinet, and keeping him was of great significance; therefore, the Duke of Orleans immediately agreed.
"I also think we should not invest too much effort in Tunisia," Mono said, lifting his round arm, "It is full of heathens, and our financial situation does not allow us to waste money in North Africa."
Typically, it was Mono, the Minister of the Interior, who was in charge of immigration-related matters, but this time, Brian, following Joseph's instructions, had handed over Tunisian immigration affairs to Mirabeau.
Mono watched as a "fatty cut" involving tens of millions of livres slipped from his hands, and discontented, he began to work towards sabotaging the matter.
Brian, upon hearing the words "financial situation," felt an instant agreement in his heart. However, since the Crown Prince greatly pushed for North Africa, he suppressed himself from making any statement.
Joseph frowned upon hearing this. Tunisia was the pivot of his North African strategy, and just when some progress was emerging, how could he give up so easily?
Not to mention he was still counting on Tunisia's fertile lands to alleviate the famine next year, and he could not just watch the over one million livres invested in immigration funds go to waste.
He was about to say something when the Minister of War stood up, with a raised fist declaring loudly:
"If a handful of rioters scare us into giving up a freshly acquired colony, I bet tomorrow France will become the laughingstock of all Europe! In fact, just sending out an adequate legion would let those North Africans know our might!"
The military naturally wanted to send a large force to Tunisia. This would mean the Royal Family would need the military, and also, a large amount of military funding would pass through his hands—it was an excellent opportunity to make a fortune.
The Navy Minister and Mirabeau immediately expressed their agreement.
Both were eyeing the military budget, and the other hoped to use Tunisian markets and resources to support industrial development. Read exclusive content at empire
For a while, both sides who supported and opposed broke into intense debate.
Queen Mary blinked her blue eyes, looking back and forth between the ministers on both sides, quickly realizing that it seemed there were more who opposed withdrawing from Tunisia.
She then raised her hand to signal for silence and with an authoritative voice said, "I have made a decision."
She gestured to the Minister of War: "Marquis de Saint Priest, please submit a reinforcement plan for Tunisia to me as soon as possible."
"By your command, Your Majesty."
Exiting the conference hall, Joseph still had furrowed brows.
Although the Cabinet had decided not to give up on Tunisia, obviously, it was moving in the direction of a public security war.
This was completely different from his initial plan—extensive public security operations would not only consume huge amounts of funding, but they might not be able to completely suppress the Tunisians in a year or two, and might even sow seeds of hatred towards France in the hearts of Tunisian people.
This would become endless trouble for the future.
Joseph shook his head, still without an effective solution, so he returned to his study, spread out the copious amounts of North African materials Baron Joann brought back on the desk, and started to carefully study everything from the political and military structure to customs, habits, and religious and cultural matters, page by page.
After an unknown amount of time, Eman came in for the tenth time, treading lightly, to trim the wicks of the candles for him.
Joseph opened a report on the population composition of Tunisia and saw a description of its Guard, "...As the highest ranking class in Tunisia, the Guard always intermarries within, forming a closed community..."𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂
Suddenly he thought of something, hastily pulling out materials concerning Tunisian religious forces, and his eyes lit up—it was this!
To be on the safe side, he gestured to Eman: "Could you please find Baron Joann for me?"
"Ah? Your Highness, it's already 1 a.m. ..."
"It's this late? Oh, then let's do it in the morning."
...
Two days later.
An emergency Cabinet meeting was convened once again.
Marquis Saint Priest presented a thick stack of plans for reinforcing Tunisia to Queen Mary with great pride.
Seeing the Queen absentmindedly flipping through the military plan, he coughed lightly and started to explain the main content:
"Your Majesty, our plan is to send General Kellermann with 25,000 soldiers to Tunisia, and together with the existing 3,000 soldiers there, deploy our forces to control here, here, and here..."
As he spoke, he pointed to the map of Tunisia on the table, "After that, a mobile force will systematically clear all the major towns..."
Having briefly introduced the battle deployment, Marquis Saint Priest added:
"According to estimates, the initial cost of the entire military operation will be about 10 million livres. Additional funds will be allocated based on how the battle progresses."
"Furthermore, for the convenience of unified command, it's necessary to incorporate Bertier's Corps into General Kellermann's command."
"That much money?!" Queen Mary looked at him in shock.
Duke of Orleans interjected at the right moment:
"If the conflict cannot be resolved swiftly, it's not surprising to end up spending tens of millions of livres. I still believe that abandoning Tunisia is the correct decision."
"What are you talking about?" the Minister of War was visibly dissatisfied, "We will have victory within a few months!"
"That's uncertain..."
Joseph suddenly stood up, interrupting them:
"I also disagree with abandoning Tunisia!"
Marquis Saint Priest immediately cast an approving look at him:
"Praise your courage and wisdom, Crown Prince!"
Joseph simply glanced at him indifferently and thought to himself, praise my foot! How dare you covet my Guard Corps? I'll settle the score with you later!
He continued loudly, "However, I think we don't need to rush to reinforce. We could first try to persuade the troublesome Tunisians."
"Persuade?"
Apart from Joan and Mirabeau, who were already informed, everyone else in the hall gave him a strange look.
"Correct." Joseph nodded seriously, "There are always reasonable people in Tunisia."
"Moreover, persuading them would only require a few hundred thousand livres."
Joan and Mirabeau immediately voiced their agreement as Joseph had instructed beforehand.
Brian, who was frightened by the military expenses of 10 million, also immediately expressed support for the method of "persuasion."
Duke of Orleans, contrary to his usual stance, sided with the Crown Prince—what persuasion? Ridiculous! It was nothing but the fantasy of a politically inexperienced child. But as long as there was no military dispatch, he could account for it to the British Ambassador.
Queen Mary did not expect her son's proposal to receive so much support, so she nodded:
"Perhaps you could first try persuading them. If that fails, then execute Marquis Saint Priest's plan."
Joseph bowed slightly with a smile:
"I certainly won't disappoint you."
...
That afternoon, in his study, Joseph explained the deployment in North Africa to Joan: "The Tunisian Guard is the only breakthrough."
"They have always intermarried within their own ranks, refusing to integrate with the local Tunisians, and have oppressed the locals greatly. This has made them without any 'friends' in the area."
He abruptly changed the topic, "Do you know what politics is?"
"Ah? Politics?"
Joseph directly answered, "Politics is about having more of your people and fewer enemies."
"The Tunisian Guard has made exactly this mistake. They have made themselves the minority."
"At the same time, they hold most of Tunisia's wealth."
"And they no longer have the overwhelming military advantage they did a century ago."
"So now, it only requires someone to guide the Tunisians, and the Guard will easily become 'sacrificial lambs'."
Joan nodded thoughtfully, "Your Highness, what should we do then?"
"We must start with identity politics and the influence of the Church."
Joseph relayed his plan in detail but realized Joan was rather bewildered, prompting a silent shake of his head. It seemed rather challenging for this consul to ensure the plan was perfectly executed.
Tunisia was of utmost importance and could not be compromised. Joseph sighed, deciding that it would be safer if he went personally.
Petit Trianon Palace.
Queen Mary's head shook so vigorously her swan-like updo almost tumbled off:
"My dear, how can you go to North Africa?! It's too dangerous! I've heard there are lions everywhere. No, absolutely not!"
Joseph gestured toward the doorway, "Kesode and the others will ensure my safety."
"Not just lions, there are venomous snakes, scorpions..."
With no other option, Joseph resorted to the "trump card" he learned from Clementine, stepped forward to take the queen's arm, and swayed gently and rhythmically, whispering:
"I beg you! I will be careful. Or perhaps, I could take more soldiers with me."
"And there are cannibals..."
Joseph hugged the queen tightly, burying his head in her bosom, and continued to plead:
"Alright, I'll stay on the ship the entire time, will that do? If you still disagree, I will never come to you again!"
Queen Mary thought about it, the Mediterranean didn't have lethal storms, so this could be somewhat acceptable.𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚
She eventually relented, "Take all your entourage, eat on time, and write me at least every three days."
"Okay, okay, I'll do as you say." Joseph kissed Queen Mary's cheek, "Thank you, dear mother, I love you the most!"
"I love you most too, my darling!" The queen chuckled, lightly flicking her son's nose, "I'll discuss with Marquis Saint Priest about which corps to send as your escort."
"Oh, no need to trouble him. I've already arranged with Duchess Vilar; her husband will personally lead 3,000 men from Murat's Corps to accompany me."
Queen Mary hastily said, "3,000 men seem a bit few, how about I allocate an additional 500 from the Swiss Guard to you."
The Swiss Guard is King Louis XVI's Imperial Guard, the most loyal Swiss mercenaries.
...
Ten or so days later.
In the northern Mediterranean, the vibrant blue waters of the French Riviera.
The majestic fourth-rate ship of the line "Advance" swelled its sails proudly, carving through the water, steering a straight course southward.
Weakly reclined in a cabin, Perna lay on the bed, her limbs limp, her eyes half-closed, nostrils flaring, her forehead drenched in sweat as if she'd been laboring with great exertion.
Joseph placed an ice-cold towel on her forehead and sighed:
"Had you no idea that you get seasick so easily?"
"I... this is my first time on a ship." the girl's sprite-like green eyes were filled with remorse as she spoke feebly, "I'm really sorry, Your Highness, I meant to look after you on the trip, but instead, you've ended up taking care of me..."
"It's alright, you don't have to be so formal." Joseph waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before returning to the officers' meeting room on the ship, saying to the few historians poring over documents:
"You have been working hard. Any progress?"
The scholars stood up promptly to salute, with the leader responding:
"Your Highness, the main inhabitants in Tunisia were Arabs and Berbers that came from Egypt. As for their connection to France,
"It seems only Emperor Charles I from the Holy Roman Empire conquered the place some two hundred years ago..."
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Joseph nodded, "Please, continue."
This was the task he had assigned to the historians—to prove a common ancestry between Tunisians and the French. Indeed, the best scenario was to make everyone kin if possible.
The scholar wiped sweat from his brow, his voice dropping:
"And France also originated from the Holy Roman Empire in ancient times."
Of course, this division of Holy Rome into Germany, France, and Italy, and the current Holy Rome, were completely different matters. The current entity could only be considered a forced attachment, neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.
The scholar felt as if he were exhausting all his life's capacity for far-fetched associations:
"So, that is, if we reason it out, both French people and Tunisians could be considered children of Rome."
"Excellent! Just like that." Joseph approved, "Please find more historical evidence and give it to the writers to draft into articles."
The historian's eyelid twitched, his voice tinged with a sob, "Your Highness, how could there possibly be evidence for this..."
"These kinds of things, well, don't have to be too rigid." Joseph winked at him, "Sometimes, you can let the writers help you conceive the evidence."
"As you wish, Your Highness."
By the time the "Advance" sailed into the Gulf of Boni, an "Analysis of the Origins of Tunisia" was already placed upon Joseph's desk.