Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1540 - 1446: Undercurrents in Vienna

Joseph nodded and said, “Please tell me what you’ve heard?”

Lavallette replied, “It is believed that Prince Charles is having an affair with an older woman in Berlin, and she seems to have a high status.”

Joseph frowned a little but wasn’t too surprised. After all, Charles grew up in the Palace of Versailles and it was no surprise that he picked up some “good habits” from the French nobility.

He sighed, “No wonder he said a couple of days ago that he wanted to go to Essen to oversee the military situation there. It seems he wants to stay in Northern Germany a while longer.”

He asked Lavallette again, “Do you know who she is?”

“That is not yet clear, Your Highness. But that Baron Mosten hinted that the person holds significant power in the City Palace.”

Joseph nodded reluctantly, “Alright, use the time while Charles is in Essen to investigate this matter as soon as possible.”

He hesitated for a moment and then instructed, “Also, you must first confirm the woman’s health condition. If she is afflicted with any diseases, bring Charles back to me immediately.”

Fortunately, France now has Penicillin, so even if Charles unfortunately contracts syphilis, as long as he is treated early, it would not have a major effect.

…

Vienna Karlmen Theater.

In the middle of the first floor, a girl with fine curly hair and dressed in a light green long gown clenched her fists tightly. Her big blue eyes were filled with anger as she whispered through gritted teeth:

“These devils, they all deserve to go to hell! What about poor Tristan…”

On stage, a new masterpiece by French playwright Pierre Leblanc, “Peaceful Summer Night” was being performed.

This play tells the story of a poor young man named Tristan, who, under the persecution of the town’s tax farmer, lost his left arm, yet still had to work 16 hours a day to repay debts. Even his boss ended up bankrupt and committed suicide because the tax farmer arbitrarily altered tax rates.

Of course, the girl had not yet seen the ending—The King implemented tax reform, abolishing the tax farmers system. With the help of a justice-minded mayor, Tristan bravely exposed the tax farmer’s crimes. Ultimately, the tax farmer had to forfeit all possessions and flee to America as a beggar.

Lucas looked at the flushed-faced girl, gently patting her back with affection and comforted her, “He is a strong person; he will surely find his way.”

The girl also turned to look at him and nodded vigorously, “It’s fortunate to have people like you, tirelessly fighting for all the poor Austrians.”

Lucas dared not meet her gaze because he had long given up on the “fight” she spoke of.

In fact, as early as the end of this summer, he had already been disheartened and was preparing to return to Paris, but just that afternoon, he unexpectedly met Gloria, the girl beside him, and fell hopelessly in love with her.

So he stayed in Vienna and quickly fell into a passionate romance with her.

Now he only occasionally participated in Stilz Society’s activities and translated some meaningful articles from French newspapers.

What he hadn’t expected was that Gloria, although from a noble family, strongly supported reforms involving human rights and Congress, and after meeting him, she also joined the Stilz Society.

Now the Stilz Society had less than 30 members, and even Lucas only continued to promote freedom and human rights out of habitual lifestyle, while Gloria was full of enthusiasm and became the most active person in the society.

Finally, Tristan on the stage began to fight back, and cheers constantly erupted in the theater.

At the moment when the evil tax farmer fled onto a ship bound for America at night, Gloria excitedly jumped up, “Great! The devil is finally defeated!”

The curtain fell slowly, and Gloria, holding his arm, left the theater while curses at the tax farmer could still be heard from time to time around them.

“This is truly the most wonderful play I’ve ever seen!” she praised, “No wonder it’s a masterpiece from a famous French writer. If only we could see French plays regularly.”

Since the last theater festival, France had become the theater export center of all Europe.

Lucas sighed, “You know, the News Publishing Authority will spare no effort to ban French plays from appearing here.”

“Peaceful Summer Night” was only allowed to be performed in Austria because it fit perfectly with Metternich’s tax reform. As for other French dramas, even their titles weren’t allowed in Austrian newspapers.

Gloria waved her fist, “Freedom, we must have freedom…”

Lucas quickly pulled her aside, then cautiously looked around, only relaxing when he confirmed no one was paying attention.

Now, with Secret Police everywhere, the girl’s words just now were enough to get her arrested.

When Lucas left the theater with his girlfriend, in the VIP box on the second floor, a man in his thirties, dressed in a luxurious blue coat with makeup on his face, was glaring viciously at the stage now obscured by the curtain.

The plot just now nearly left him breathless—

What did Fleerich do wrong? He collected taxes for the King for decades, only to end up penniless, begging for a living.

Fleerich was the tax farmer in the play just now.

And he happened to have been a tax farmer as well, contracting the taxes for all tobacco, alcohol, salt, and long-term shops in Vienna South District.

Though he had a fortune of millions of florins, the play had clearly told him that if he lost his tax farming rights, he would eventually end up a beggar like Fleerich.

He wasn’t afraid of death, as his grandfather dared to kill a competitor for a few hundred florins back in the day. But he was very much afraid of poverty, which was a torment more painful than death.

A servant’s voice came from behind, “Sir, it’s almost five o’clock. If we don’t leave now, we might miss the gathering.”

The man nodded and left the box with a sullen face.

Gloria and Lucas kissed goodbye. Once his figure disappeared at the end of the street, she returned to the carriage and carefully rehearsed her “alibi” with the maid.

The carriage made several loops before finally stopping in front of a brick-red villa in the middle of Land Street.

“Miss, why are you just coming back?” The maid, who had come up to her, helped check her makeup and then let her in the door, anxiously saying, “Luckily, there’s a gathering at home today; otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to cover for you.”

In the east hall of Gloria’s house, her father, Count Urfelt, was in a hushed conversation with the man in the blue coat from the theater.

“Mr. Holz, I must remind you that regarding the case of Tax Officer Federer, the Secret Police have you under surveillance.”

Holz, however, smilingly dismissed it, “Rest assured, my people have done a clean job.”