Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 924 - 832: Waking to Command the Power of the World

Chapter 924: Chapter 832: Waking to Command the Power of the World

The important town in the southwest of the Netherlands, Middleburg.

The news reached the city yesterday afternoon, and the entire city fell silent instantly.

Shops did not open for business, and there were almost no pedestrians on the streets. Occasionally, someone hurried by with a sense of urgency, all heading to the countryside to seek refuge.

Yesterday morning, the Dutch National Army only held out for two hours before being defeated by the French.

After the Duke of York led the coalition forces to Luxembourg, there were no more troops left within the Netherlands that could hold their own against the French Army.

The Lefevre Corps marched north unchallenged, essentially occupying all Dutch provinces south of the Val River with the speed of an advancing army.

In Middleburg, no one knew what the occupying forces would do, and heavy fear like a tidal wave engulfed this coastal city.

Finally, when the sun reached its peak again, faint sounds of military drums came from the east of the city.

Everyone immediately shut their doors and windows tightly, nervously peeking outside through the cracks.

Half an hour later, a team of cavalrymen dressed in white uniforms, riding tall horses, passed through the city’s central streets, the rhythmic clopping of hooves on the cobblestones.

In a gray two-story building beside the road, a middle-aged woman looked at the golden iris flag, trembling as she whispered to her husband, "I heard these dreadful people need to eat frogs every day to replenish their magic power, so no one can defeat them..."

"Foolish woman," the man glared at her, "instead of that, you should worry about where we’ll get bread to eat after the French have looted the city’s granary."

Before long, the French Army disappeared from their sight, leaving only a notice on the wall, then never returned.

The man cautiously stepped out of his house, glanced at the notice, and looked for help from his neighbor: "Kind Mr. Fan Lie Wen, what does it say?"

The latter whispered, "The French say they are just pursuing the parliamentary army invading France and will not harm innocent people, nor will they loot or collect taxes."

Indeed, the city remained very calm until near nightfall when someone brought news that the French Army had confiscated the weapons from the police station and then withdrew.

The residents of Middleburg felt relieved, as if waking from a nightmare.

The next day, shops on the streets opened one after another, and except for a slight increase in food prices, it seemed as if nothing had happened.

The woman who once worried about the French Army’s magic power was lining up at a bakery, discussing with the woman behind her: "Speaking of which, the French weren’t so scary after all."

"Yes, that French officer even gave my son a candy. God, I thought he would be killed..."

The tall man in front of them sighed, "The French are truly the emblem of civilization. Our parliament sent troops to follow the Austrians to invade Valron, and they were disastrously defeated. Now the French soldiers have come, yet they’ve only posted a notice and quietly left."

Someone nodded in agreement, "That’s right, the lords in Amsterdam should be ashamed."

"The parliament should apologize to the French!"

The woman nodded deeply in agreement, just as she heard the voice of a young girl passing by: "Those two French soldiers were so handsome..."

The same scenes played out in Breda, Scheveningen, Nijmegen, and other cities, with the French Army winning widespread praise from the Dutch.

At this time, the advance units of the French Army had already crossed the Val River, heading towards Utrecht, the southern barrier of Amsterdam.

There were only less than 4,000 new soldiers temporarily assembled by the Dutch Parliament there, and the outcome was already predetermined even before the battle started.

kilometers south of Utrecht, the small town of Fian.

The French Army rented a lavender estate south of the town—for honey production—paying a rent of 10,000 francs, on the spot.

On the sofa on the second floor of the estate villa, Joseph, pillowed on smooth black stockings, inhaled the comforting fragrance of the girl beside him, closing his eyes to enjoy this rare relaxation.

The black stockings encased a pair of long, firm, and elastic beautiful legs, more comfortable than the best latex pillows he had used in his previous life.

And the owner of the beautiful legs was gently massaging the sides of his temples. Her slender fingers were like little sprites, bringing a tingling sensation every time they touched his skin.

Joseph intended to ponder his future plans for the Netherlands in such a comfortable setting, but the tender hands and the gentle whisper above made it hard to concentrate.

He couldn’t help but sigh, no wonder they say "When awake, control the world; when drunk, lie on beauty’s lap," it turns out only away from beauty’s lap can one think clearly about controlling the world.

A moment later, Camellia’s gentle voice came from the side, "Your Highness, ah—"

Joseph, with his eyes closed, opened his mouth, letting a piece of praline fall into it, followed by the sound of a silver fork meeting a china plate, and then the "little sprite" resumed its dance on his forehead.

Leisure time is always short; Joseph hadn’t even finished a plate of pralines when Eman gently knocked on the door outside:

"Your Highness, according to your schedule, you will meet with the Dutch Prime Minister Mr. Campelen and others in 20 minutes."

Joseph reluctantly opened his eyes, not wanting to end this rare rest.

Camellia gave a sweet smile, leaned over to kiss him lightly on the forehead, and softly said, "Your Highness, France needs you now."

Joseph sighed, sat up, and Camellia deftly fetched his coat to help him put it on: "I’ll be waiting for your return."

Half an hour later, in the lavender garden’s drying field, Campelen and a group of high-ranking Dutch officials respectfully saluted Joseph and then cautiously took seats around an outdoor wooden table.

A moment later, seeing the Crown Prince of France seemingly admiring the distant lavender, Campelen glanced nervously at the hundreds of armed French soldiers standing around and gulped, opening with difficulty:

"Respected Crown Prince, regarding this war, the parliament requests that you grant our country the opportunity to end it with dignity."

When the French Army was preparing to cross the Val River, the Dutch Parliament had already begun discussing surrender.

Clearly, England, Prussia, and Austria had decided to abandon the Netherlands.

With the Netherlands’ weak forces, there was no way to stop the French Army. Surrender was their only option.

Campelen now worried most that France might not accept the surrender, as the French Army could simply march on and capture Amsterdam within a week.

He was even prepared for not being able to meet the Crown Prince of France. But fortunately, the Crown Prince gave him this opportunity.

Joseph nodded indifferently and signaled to Eman.

The latter immediately placed a document in front of Campelen, saying, "These are the ceasefire terms His Highness requires."