Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1273: 1178: Your Highness, Why Are You Here Too?

Chapter 1273: Chapter 1178: Your Highness, Why Are You Here Too?

Zubov’s hand trembled slightly on the hilt of his sword, unsure whether it was due to the night’s cold wind or excessive tension.

He hesitated a bit but was immediately shoved by General Bennigsen, reeking of alcohol: “Why are you hesitating? We all need you, come on!”

Zubov gritted his teeth, took advantage of the alcohol’s courage, and strode towards the Imperial Palace.

His two brothers and over 20 officers immediately followed.

None of them wore the Prussian pointed hats as stipulated by Paul I, and the large sideburns and the Prussian long braids at the back of their heads were shaved off. If it were daylight now, they would be immediately arrested by the “Knight Etiquette Inspector.”

But at this moment, they didn’t care, because they were here to put an end to all this absurdity.

Skalagin cautiously glanced around, muttering: “Won’t run into Arakcheev’s men, will we?”

Count Arakcheev was the commander of the Royal Guard Cavalry Regiment, extremely loyal to Paul I. His troops were responsible for the outer guard duties of the Gatchina Palace.

Duke Yashvili slurred: “No, don’t worry. Count Palen has already, on charges of collusion with the ‘Austrian Revolutionary Party’… had him, hic— temporarily suspended.

“Still… the order personally signed by Paul, hahaha, that fool.”

General Bennigsen gestured around: “Now the Guard Cavalry Corps is commanded by Vorobyov; he will ensure the safety of this path.”

Indeed, until they arrived at the side gate of the Gatchina Palace, they didn’t encounter any patrolling soldiers.

On the fortress-like walls, several guards noticed them, loudly saying: “Halt. This is a restricted area!”

After receiving the assassination alert from his daughter, Paul I did strengthen the security measures of the palace; hundreds of guards were patrolling both inside and outside the palace at all times. Especially at night, without his signed orders, no one was allowed in or out of the court.

Behind the guards, a voice called out: “The Tsar has summoned them; this is the pass.”

The guards turned, seeing the Chief Steward Algamakov waving a paper in front of them, containing a long list of names including Count Zubov and General Bennigsen.

The pass was obviously fake, but no one dared to question the Tsar’s Chief Steward.

The heavy doors slowly opened, and Zubov and about 20 others immediately slipped inside, led by Algamakov, through the palace square and the high platform used for daily reviews, entering Gatchina Palace.

But to avoid drawing attention, they did not light any lamps along the way, and having drunk quite a bit beforehand, nearly half of them had already lost track.

Algamakov stepped forward and knocked on the door of the Tsar’s anteroom: “It’s me, open the door quickly.”

“General Algamakov?” a guard’s voice came from inside: “You know, according to the regulations, no one can come in at this hour.”

“There’s an urgent military situation.”

“But, it’s so late…”

“Fool, it’s already six in the morning.” Algamakov knew these guards couldn’t afford a pocket watch.

Just as the guard hesitated, a low voice came from beside Algamakov: “What are you doing? It’s only three in the morning.”

Zubov and the others were startled, turning to see Count Bobrinsky striding over with seven or eight attendants.

Having learned of Zubov’s movements, Count Bobrinsky often lingered in Gatchina Palace overnight. His good relationship with Paul I meant he wasn’t asked to leave.

“It’s, it’s concerning the Indian expeditionary force, I must report immediately!” General Bennigsen said urgently.

Count Bobrinsky scrutinized their attire, suddenly stepping back a few paces: “You are violating Knight dress regulations. Guards!”

Zubov and Duke Yashvili immediately drew their pistols. Meanwhile, Count Bobrinsky’s attendants also drew their weapons.

General Bennigsen was sweating profusely, knowing full well that if they couldn’t enter the Tsar’s room immediately, in ten minutes at most, the Court Guard would surround them.

“Yevgeni, Bashilavinov, open the door immediately!” Algamakov shouted behind the door.

Count Bobrinsky immediately shouted: “Anyone who opens the door will be hanged!”

In a suite on the south side of the Gatchina Palace, Alexander Pavlovich, dressed in a neat military uniform—not the Prussian type but the one from the Yevgeni era—stared intently into the dark night outside.

Ten minutes ago, his attendant had reported that Zubov and others had entered the palace.

They should be meeting the Emperor by now, he thought to himself, please forgive me, but the mistakes you made are too many, from nobles to serfs, all are opposing you. I must do this.

The door opened, and his attendant Baklev almost ran in, lowering his voice: “Your Highness, they’ve been stopped.”

“What?” Alexander turned sharply, “What happened?”

“It’s Count Bobrinsky, blocking the door to His Majesty’s room.”

“That damned bastard!”

Alexander growled, but quickly calmed down, strapped the pistol on the table behind his waist, and gestured to the dozen guards standing at the door: “Enter.”

Soon, the guards—also in old Russian military uniforms and armed—stood erectly before the Crown Prince.

Alexander declared loudly: “Now, we must save the Empire’s future. And you will gain supreme honor!

“Who will come with me?”

Two captains immediately drew their swords and held them high: “We will follow you always, even if it means sacrificing our lives!”

The other guards also shouted: “For you, we sacrifice our lives!”

Yes, Alexander had secretly replaced all his guards with absolute confidants more than a month ago. In the Royal Guard near the Tsar’s room, there were also 11 of his men.

From the beginning, he never fully relied on Count Palen’s people.

He even sneered at Palen and Zubov’s methods. Back when his grandmother orchestrated a coup, she had only a group of captains with her, while Palen and the others courted a large number of the Empire’s high officials, yet ended up resorting to brute force to solve the problem.

In the end, the only one they had to deal with was the Tsar alone; a bunch of young soldiers would suffice. Generals and earls might not even be able to defeat them.

Alexander pointed to the second floor, suppressing his excitement: “We are going to make the Emperor abdicate!”

“Ula—”

When Alexander arrived at the Tsar’s room, Count Bobrinsky’s attendants, together with seven or eight guards, had already pinned Zubov and others to the ground.

Alexander looked at these failures, sneering, and signaled the Captain behind him: “Take action.”

Blades shimmered, and several Royal Guards of the palace fell in a pool of blood instantly.

Count Bobrinsky, shocked, looked at the Crown Prince: “Your Highness, why are you here too?”