Chapter 929: 837: The Front Line

Chapter 929: Chapter 837: The Front Line

Joseph nodded, held the girl’s slender fingers, bid farewell once more, and then turned to enter the carriage.

Eman signaled the Imperial Guard to set off, and only then did Camellia and several maids come running over from a distance with the Crown Prince’s clothing boxes, cooking utensils, and such — all of which she had previously brought from Paris.

Joseph watched as the maid stowed the items onto the rear carriage. He hesitated for a moment but saw the doctor walking lightly to the carriage, winking at her: “This period, Your Highness will be entrusted to you.”

“Yes, please rest assured. I will ensure His Highness’s life is akin to being in the Palace of Versailles,” the maid said earnestly, hugging Perna. “I hope the war ends soon, so everyone can return to the Palace of Versailles.”

Just as the carriage began to move, a rapid “tat-tat” sound came from the road to the north. A carriage sped over and was quickly stopped by a squad of the Prince’s Guard.

Fouche was the first to step out of the carriage, followed by the anxious-looking Sandler.

The two approached Joseph, and the head of the Intelligence Bureau saluted first, saying, “Your Highness, I brought Mr. Sandler with me. We arrived in Brussels at noon, only to learn that you had already departed.”

Sandler hurried forward and bowed: “Honorable Crown Prince…”

Joseph glanced at the marching columns already far ahead and gestured for the two to get in: “Get in the carriage, we’ll talk while on the move.”

The guards raised the Prince’s flag fluttering in the wind, escorting the convoy as it restarted.

In Joseph’s carriage, Sandler placed his hands on his chest, speaking earnestly and urgently to Joseph: “Your Highness, please, you must trust me. I haven’t accepted a penny from that Bolton fellow, nor have I revealed anything to him, I swear!

“Indeed, I didn’t report this to the Intelligence Bureau, and that’s my fault.

“But you know, I come from Birmingham, and the Intelligence Bureau would likely investigate me for having contact with an ill-intentioned countryman, which would seriously affect my research work…”

Joseph smiled, gesturing to the sweets on the wooden table: “Don’t be nervous, try these maple sugar apple pies. They’re made by the Queen’s personal pastry chef, I’m sure you’ll like them.

“I’ve always trusted you, just as sailors trust their compasses. I called you here, not to question you…”

Sandler immediately breathed a sigh of relief and quickly said, “Your trust is more important to me than air. Oh, if that damned merchant comes to me again, I’ll tie him up and send him to the Intelligence Bureau!”

Joseph smiled and waved his hand: “No, no, in fact, I need you to contact Mr. Bolton as soon as possible.”

“Ah? Contact him?”

“That’s right. You need to gain his trust.” Joseph pointed to the sweets again, “Really, won’t you have some? Consider it helping me out; the Queen sent so many.

“If necessary, you may even disclose some insignificant technology to Bolton. Then, you must take a trip to England, Mr. Fouche will send someone to assist you. Here’s what you should do…”

Once Joseph finished speaking, Sandler, holding an apple pie, widened his eyes and said, “Your Highness, will this work?”

“It certainly will.” Joseph leaned closer, “After you return, I’ll personally help you propose to Count Gezawei.”

An hour later, Sandler and Fouche got off midway and returned directly to France.

…

Because the troops included many old soldiers, the Lefevre Corps’ marching speed was not fast.

Joseph’s convoy caught up from the rearguard to the vanguard, eventually arriving a day earlier than the main forces at the Ardennes Plateau.

Just past Bastogne City, Joseph could already hear the rumbling artillery sounds occasionally coming from the east.

Soon after, they encountered the cavalry scouts of Massetna’s Army.

Ardennes Plateau.

In the French Army command post at Viertz, Massena exclaimed in surprise upon hearing the cavalry scouts’ report: “The Crown Prince is coming to the frontline?!

“God, how is that possible? It’s too dangerous; we have nearly a hundred thousand enemy troops around us!”

But after the cavalry scout told him the Crown Prince was nearing Wensele, Massena quickly turned and studied the map.

For a moment, he instructed Saint Iler: “Lead the cavalry camp personally, spare no expense to push Grosby’s enemy one kilometer south; their cannons might reach Eschdorf’s position.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Wait, reinforce the troops in Viersheid as well. Be wary of Ferdinand launching an attack from there suddenly…”

After Massena made several deployments for the defensive line, he rushed to Eschdorf himself. It was the core of the French Army’s southern line on the Ardennes Plateau, and also where the Crown Prince would inspect.

…

3 kilometers southeast of Eschdorf, behind a breastwork, infantryman Auror held a caplock gun, peering towards the Prussian Army.

It was quiet, but they couldn’t be careless, as the enemy’s attack intervals had been continuously shortening in recent days.

He pulled up his collar to block the damp and cold wind.

Although it was only early winter, due to Europe’s ongoing extreme climate effects, Luxembourg’s temperatures had already dropped below freezing.

“I wonder how much longer we’ll have to stay in this godforsaken place?” Auror grumbled to a few soldiers beside him, “Our company commander said before that we came to beat the Prussian-Austrian Alliance Army and earn merits…”

His compatriot, Andre, spat out the grass from his mouth, agreeing, “But we’ve been the ones getting beaten for half a month instead!”

“My sister wrote a few days ago, asking how many Germans I’ve killed…”

“Hey, if only we were in the Second Infantry Corps. I heard they won a victory in Neuerburg, wiping out at least three Thuringia Corps.”

“I heard it was five…”

“Ah — I’ve had enough, I don’t want to huddle here for another minute!”

“Me neither…”

“What are you all shouting about?” A sergeant came over, glaring at them, “Have you checked the guns and ammunition?”

The soldiers quickly stood at attention and said, “Yes, Sergeant, we’ve checked multiple times!”

“We just want to launch an attack.”

“Right, that’s the only way to earn more merits…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be counterattacking soon.”

Though the sergeant said this, he wasn’t confident. Suddenly recalling something, he smiled and added, “By the way, today ‘Miss Delvaux’s Banquet’ is coming to our camp. Yesterday, the Seventh Camp said they made beef stew with mashed potatoes.”

The soldiers cheered immediately upon hearing that.

On this dreary plateau, the only thing that could make them happy was the improved meals every five days.

The so-called “Miss Delvaux’s Banquet” was the “Flying Kitchen” invented by Camellia, though the soldiers never called it that.

Due to the limited number of field kitchen cars, each camp had to wait five days for its turn to be served by the kitchen.

But even at this frequency, it could instantly boost morale, countering the demoralization caused by the harsh weather and enemy siege.