Chapter 670: The Vatican's Unusual Stance
In the Crown Prince's cabin, Perna sat at the intricately carved wooden table, taking small bites of her breakfast. Every so often, she stole a glance at Joseph, seated across from her. Her cheeks flushed crimson almost instantly, and she quickly lowered her head, pretending to focus on the food on her plate.
Her eyes, however, brimmed with happiness, and a small smile lingered on her lips. Today, there was no need for her to perform her usual morning health check on the Crown Prince—she'd conducted a far more intimate and comprehensive "examination" last night. Everything about him was perfectly normal. In fact, more than normal...
Her wandering thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door as Edmond entered, balancing a tray of food. He carefully placed two plates of pan-fried fish and toast in front of the Crown Prince and Perna, then gave a polite bow.
Edmond's expression was calm, as though the scene before him was nothing out of the ordinary.
Behind him, a maid entered quietly, moving along the wall toward the inner cabin.
Perna froze for a moment. Then, as though jolted by electricity, she shot up from her seat and hurried to block the maid's path, wearing an awkward smile.
"Diana, um… I'll tidy the room myself later," she stammered.
The ship's limited space meant the bed was quite narrow, and last night's bedding was still on the floor. There might even be a few… marks left behind. If the maid saw them, Perna thought she might die of embarrassment.
Joseph, who had grown accustomed to others making his bed over the years, quickly realized the situation. He coughed lightly, "Diana, leave it be. You're dismissed."
"Yes, Your Highness," the maid replied and exited without hesitation.
Joseph exchanged a knowing glance with Perna. Both of them smiled, sharing an unspoken understanding.
Joseph gestured for Edmond to leave as well, then gently guided Perna back to her chair by the table.
"Eat your breakfast first," he said softly. "Once the ship starts moving, you'll feel seasick again and lose your appetite."
"But the room…" Perna started.
"I'll take care of it."
As Joseph busied himself tidying up, Perna watched him with a heart brimming with sweetness.
The Boroscaphe's smokestack began billowing black smoke as the ship resumed its journey in the race. However, the Crown Prince's cabin remained conspicuously untouched.
Two days later.
The steamship triumphantly returned to Paris, leaving the second-place ship, the Seven Birds, trailing a staggering 90 kilometers behind.
The entire inland shipping industry was shaken to its core.
Over a hundred journalists rushed to file countless reports on the race, flooding the nation with stories of the steamship's unprecedented victory.
Camellia, still weak and feverish since the previous morning, was carefully tended to by Perna. She anxiously directed the royal physicians who had come to meet them at the dock, ensuring Camellia was carried safely into a waiting carriage.
Meanwhile, Amalie Herriot—the noblewoman who had pushed Camellia into the river—was escorted away by the royal guards. News of the incident had already reached Versailles via land routes.
Herriot's father, the Count of Herriot, had been anxiously waiting at the dock. After the Crown Prince finished presenting the prize to the winning ship, the count nervously approached him.
"Your Highness, I swear before God that this was entirely Amalie's foolish behavior. I had no knowledge of it…"
The count was already aware that the Austrian girl his daughter had offended was no mere maid. She was the granddaughter of the Queen's wet nurse and, therefore, someone of significant influence within the royal household.
It was clear that his haughty daughter hadn't bothered to investigate before acting.
The Count of Herriot, father to seven children—three of whom were daughters—could not bear the thought of his entire family being crushed by the wrath of the royal court over Amalie's impulsive actions.
Joseph shot him a cold glance before stepping into his carriage. "The courts will deliver a just verdict."
When Joseph returned to Versailles, he shared a pleasant lunch with the King and Queen, who he hadn't seen for several days. Afterward, as he approached his chambers, he found Talleyrand waiting for him at the door.
"You've returned from Rome?" Joseph asked, gesturing toward the drawing room. "Let's discuss inside."
Talleyrand, walking with his characteristic limp, followed Joseph inside, his head lowered and his expression tinged with frustration. "Your Highness, the Pope has expressed his unwillingness for the Vatican to intervene in the Polish situation."
Joseph sat down on the sofa, frowning slightly. "Did you mention the proposal to 'reforge the Spear of Catholicism'?"
Talleyrand nodded. "I did, Your Highness. I explained it to the Pope thoroughly. Initially, he seemed intrigued, but then… he refused to discuss it further."
"Have a seat," Joseph said, intertwining his fingers as he leaned back. "The Pope's decision will undoubtedly complicate our strategy in Poland.
"What do you think is behind his hesitation?"
Talleyrand hesitated. "Perhaps he doesn't want to antagonize the Russians?"
Joseph shook his head. "Russia wields no real influence over the Papal States. Even if there's some trade, that pales in comparison to the Vatican regaining influence in Eastern Europe.
"If Poland were to defeat Russia, it would be seen as the 'Spear of Catholicism' striking a holy blow against Eastern Orthodox heretics. Such a victory would immensely boost the Vatican's prestige."
At this time, the Roman Catholic Church was a shadow of its medieval glory.
France, despite being the "Eldest Daughter of the Church," had an independent ecclesiastical system that rejected Roman oversight.
England, Prussia, the Netherlands, the Nordic countries, and most German states had embraced Protestantism. Even Catholic strongholds like Bavaria and Salzburg were witnessing reformist movements.
Only Spain and Austria remained as the Vatican's last strongholds of influence.
Poland, with its recent constitution declaring Catholicism the state religion, had become a rare "success story" for the Church.
Joseph had hoped to leverage this to secure Vatican support for Poland.
Though weakened, the Vatican still held sway over millions of Catholics across Europe. A papal call to resist the "heretical Eastern Orthodox invaders" wouldn't necessarily draw hordes of foreign volunteers to Poland, but it could significantly boost Polish morale.
There's a world of difference between fighting a war of resistance and believing you're fulfilling God's will.
This had been a cornerstone of Joseph's strategy for Poland.
However, Pope Pius VI's outright rejection had thrown a wrench in his plans.
"So why is the Pope ignoring such a lucrative opportunity?" Joseph mused, fingers gently tapping the sofa's armrest. "It must be either greater incentives or external pressure…"
Talleyrand added, "Or threats that make the benefits seem inconsequential."
Joseph nodded. "You're right. Among the nations involved in the Polish question, Russia is Orthodox, Prussia is Protestant. That leaves Austria."
Talleyrand looked puzzled. "But Austria's policy has always been to preserve Poland. It wouldn't…"
Joseph narrowed his eyes. "No, I think Austria is the most likely culprit."
He was well aware that Austria had historically never hesitated to seize Polish territories.
"If the Papal States are bowing to Austrian influence, then it all makes sense," Joseph concluded.
The Papal States had territorial disputes with nearly all neighboring Italian states. Sardinia, Tuscany, and the Two Sicilies—though Catholic—were adamant about reclaiming lands from the Vatican.
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