Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1545 - 1451: The Firefighting Team
“I think…”
Queen Mary had not yet thought of how to respond when the nurse beside the sickbed took the thermometer out of Louis XVI’s mouth and turned to hand it to the imperial physician.
The nobles in the room immediately gathered around, and the closest, Count of Artuwa, read the thermometer’s reading: “Forty degrees Celsius… Jesus! This, what should we do?”
Queen Mary originally wanted to say, “His Majesty will surely make it to Brittany,” but at this moment, she was also somewhat dumbfounded, as if she had gone a bit overboard with the arrangements.
She had only thought that the nobles would prevent the King from leaving Paris, so she tried to make her husband’s “illness” a bit more severe, but obviously, no one with a fever of 40 degrees should travel six to seven hundred kilometers…
Sure enough, the room fell silent for a moment, and then Duke of Broglie was the first to turn and whisper, “I think we should quickly convene a special Senate meeting to discuss how to handle the current situation.”
Archbishop Talleyrand glanced at him and strode to the center of the room: “What is urgent now is to immediately notify the Crown Prince and have him return to the Palace of Versailles to preside over the situation.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Duke Richelieu added, “Also, for now, we must temporarily block the news of His Majesty’s illness from the outside.”
Count of Artuwa looked at the King’s brother: “We must gather more esteemed physicians for a consultation to ensure His Majesty can hold out until the Crown Prince returns.”
Queen Mary stood frozen, this sounded like they were discussing the King’s demise.
She hurriedly waved her hands: “No, it shouldn’t be so serious, don’t let Joseph come back yet…”
The most crucial part of her plan was selecting Joseph to inspect the European Settlement Bank’s new site in Marseille, to avoid him discovering any flaws—she was not confident she could hide it from her eldest son.
Then she would use this time difference to have the Senate and High Court swiftly pass the “Regent King’s Charter,” so that even if Joseph noticed something was amiss upon his return, he would have no choice but to accept it passively.
Count of Artuwa sighed, walked to her side, and comforted: “Your Majesty, I understand your feelings very well, and I believe Jesus will surely protect my brother, but the country’s affairs also require precaution against any eventualities.”
Queen Mary began desperately signaling to Dr. Petti with her eyes, meaning for him to say something like “the King’s condition is under control.”
But the latter thought she was urging him to continue advancing according to the predetermined script, and thus reluctantly said, “Well, I’m confident in curing His Majesty in Brittany…”
“You better know what you’re talking about!”
Duke Richelieu glared at him: “A King is crowned at the Palace of Versailles, and should return to Heaven from here, this is what the dynasty needs as orthodoxy!”
Duke of Monmorency echoed: “His Majesty surely wouldn’t want to leave the Palace of Versailles at this time.”
Dr. Petti, rebuked by the gathered bigwigs, broke out in cold sweat and could only look to the Queen for help.
Indeed, according to the rules of the French royal transition, a King must be born at Versailles, end at Versailles, and under the gaze of all nobles, complete the transition between the old and new King, this is the most orthodox, most conforming to the sacred order way.
France has a very important ceremony, which is conducted in the King’s Bedroom, with all the nobles shouting “The King is dead, long live the King” as a mark of sovereign heritage.
Queen Mary had more cold sweat than the imperial physician.
She subconsciously knew her husband was fine, so she didn’t consider that the ministers were most concerned about the King’s death in the plan.
She was already considering whether to suddenly announce “The King has recovered” tomorrow to end this chaos.
At this moment, Duke Levis squeezed through the crowd, came to the bed, and bowed to Queen Mary: “Your Majesty, I heard His Majesty suddenly fell seriously ill, so I brought Dr. Kovisat and others.”
He gestured behind him, as the Director of the Medical Health Bureau and several top French doctors stood at the doorway.
Queen Mary froze, looking guiltily at imperial physicians Petti, Bisha, and others.
Her plan only included these few imperial physicians, and if Kovisat and others discovered the King was pretending to be ill, it would be a huge embarrassment…
“Your Majesty, you need not worry. Dr. Kovisat is here to help.”
A whisper reached Queen Mary’s ears. Surprised, she turned to see her maid, Duchess of Levis, who had somehow come up behind her.
Under the nervous gaze of imperial physicians Petti and others, Kovisat and Du Mangran carefully examined the King, then addressed everyone in the room: “Based on my experience, His Majesty’s condition is still controllable. With precise treatment, there is a very high probability of recovery.”
Count of Artuwa and others looked suspiciously at Dr. Petti.
The imperial physician then looked at the Queen with a downcast face.
Queen Mary glanced at Duchess of Levis and nodded slightly to them.
Dr. Petti breathed a sigh of relief, promptly saying: “Yes, Mr. Kovisat was right. Although His Majesty has typhus, the bacteria seem to be suppressed, this, this is simply a miracle…”
Prince of Conde frowned: “But His Majesty’s fever reached forty degrees Celsius?”
Kovisat immediately replied: “This is just a common reaction in the early stages of typhus, in certain cases, the worse the fever, the faster the recovery.”
He finished, thinking to himself: May none of the doctors here cite these words in any papers…
Indeed, he was just a stand-in brought by Duke Levis.
Queen Mary secretly breathed a sigh of relief and asked: “Then, how do you suggest we treat him?”
Standing at the edge of the sick room, Baron Breti raised his hand and loudly said: “Danfeng Bailu Sanatorium. It has the finest medical examination facilities and a comfortable environment, ideal for recovery treatment.”
Though he holds the high office of Imperial Prime Minister, he is not ranked high among the noble titles, just barely qualified to enter the King’s sick room.
Duke Levis immediately affirmed: “This is indeed the best approach. Fontainebleau is very close to Paris, and even in case of unexpected situations, His Majesty can quickly return to the Palace of Versailles.”
Now, with steam railcars running between Fontainebleau and Paris, the one-way trip takes less than three hours.
Queen Mary saw her maid frantically signaling with her eyes and hurriedly nodded in agreement: “Alright, then let’s go to Fontainebleau.”
Count of Artuwa, Duke Richelieu, and others exchanged glances, unable to find reasons to oppose, since if the King could be saved, he should certainly be saved, and they weren’t going as far as Brittany.
Soon, Louis XVI was loaded onto a carriage by servants and then transferred to the steam railcar.
As the railcar began to move, Duke Levis and Baron Breti came outside the Queen’s compartment to seek an audience.
Queen Mary highly praised Duke Levis, had it not been for him suddenly bringing the people from the Medical Health Bureau today, she would truly not know how to end.
“This is simply my duty,”
Duke Levis humbly bowed and continued, “Your Majesty, there is still a very important matter at present, which is His Majesty may take a considerable time to recover, leaving the Palace of Versailles temporarily without anyone to preside over the situation.”
