I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1380 The Allure of Masculinity

Alexandra took a revolver from her Florentine calfskin bag and, along with a silver percussion cap case, handed it to Joseph, then asked with some "expectation":

"You are going to..."

Joseph winked at her: "Want to see the fireworks?"

The Crown Princess peeked through the curtains at the colorful fireworks exploding in the sky above the square, and nodded vigorously: "Yes, I want to see it!"

Joseph emptied the bullets from his pistol, leaving only the propellant, then yanked open the curtains, pushed open the window, and pulled the trigger toward the linden tree more than ten meters away.

A flash of fire, accompanied by a loud bang, ripped through the night sky, startling the nobles who were hanging in the tree fiddling with their telescopes, nearly causing them to fall.

Joseph quickly put on his percussion cap and fired another shot.

The men who had been scrambling for "front-row seats" on the second-floor exterior wall suddenly saw the Crown Prince standing imposingly with a gun in front of the window, and they scrambled back into the house.

Joseph fired five shots in quick succession, and the people in the opposite tree had vanished without a trace. Only one unfortunate fellow, who had twisted his ankle while jumping down, was struggling to move towards the nearby bushes.
Joseph smiled, loaded a live round, and took aim.

A gunshot rang out, and a tree branch fell to the ground.

The guy who was limping just moments ago immediately "recovered" and disappeared in a flash.

Outside the bedroom, Ksold knocked urgently and asked, "Your Highness, are you alright?"

Joseph shouted, "Relax, it's just fireworks."

As he blew away the gunpowder smoke, Alexandra's heart raced. She was completely mesmerized by the masculine scene she had just witnessed, her mind going blank, while her pretty face flushed even more.

Joseph made sure no one was watching before he drew the curtains again.

As soon as he turned around, a pair of slender arms wrapped around his neck.

Then something was caught around his waist...

Alexandra, completely devoid of her previous delicate demeanor, unleashed a passionate kiss on his face, as fiery as gunpowder: "Darling, I really love you so much..."

Joseph paused for a moment, but the warm, soft sensation immediately brought him back to his senses. He threw the revolver that had just "made a contribution" on the ground and began to search for the metal buckle with difficulty.

Soon, the warm glow of the fireplace gently caressed Alexandra's fair back.

They whispered in each other's ears at the same time, "I love you."

Joseph gently inhaled the fragrance of Alexandra's hair and kissed her eyes.

Immediately, the French warriors launched their attack...

For some reason, Joseph's mind flashed for a moment back to the songs of the young nobles.
"The bugle call sounded on the battlefield in the dead of night..."

"The warriors still stood tall the next morning..."

Fireworks soared continuously into the sky above Notre Dame Cathedral Square, filling the heavens with dazzling colors and creating the most beautiful backdrop for the tens of thousands of people still twirling and dancing there.

Even the thieves and police officers joined in the celebration.

Yes, the French have accumulated too much excitement and need a reason to release it properly.

Today is undoubtedly the most suitable day.

Beside a huge stone sculpture, Rochefoucauld, his eyes half-closed with drunkenness, raised his glass to Porter: "Come on, may His Highness the Crown Prince find an heir soon!"

The latter seemed not to have heard what he said, but also raised his glass: "That unlucky Danny, haha, I knew he shouldn't have gotten married so early..."

"Yes, Chaumont went home at eight o'clock in the evening. His son, who was born last year, is practically calling to him all the time." Rochefoucauld nodded. "Yes, so we still have the whole world! And girls too."

He patted his childhood friend on the shoulder: "Pierre, come with me to do business in southern Germany. They're building railways everywhere there now. I guarantee you can earn 20,000 to 30,000 francs a year."

"Doing business?" Porter waved his hand. "Too much trouble. I prefer a job where I can make money just by talking."

Well, his job in England was to occasionally relay messages to the Irish or "gather information" in London; his life was easy and comfortable.

“Listen, you lazybones,” the chubby boy whispered smugly in his ear, “I heard that someone invented a steam forging machine.”

Do you know how powerful that thing is?

"We use it to manufacture 'flying cars,' which are actually metal handcarts, and we can produce more than 2000 of them every month!"

"Moreover, the quality will also be greatly improved."

"I used half of my savings to buy the production license for the 'flying car' and plan to open a factory in Stuttgart or Munich to build it. You can help me manage the workers or handle the contracts with the buyers; it won't be too tiring."

Porter downed his drink in one gulp and laughed, "After I get married, I'll retire at your factory, how about that?"

"You're planning to retire right after getting married...?"

Under the gas lamps on the west side of Notre Dame Cathedral, Sorel finally tired herself out of dancing and leaned against a lamppost to rest.

Music and laughter kept coming from all directions, but she suddenly felt a tightness in her chest.

Then a feeling of emptiness, loneliness, and coldness filled my entire body.

"Damn it, I should have eaten more for dinner..."

She shook her head, intending to continue dancing to ease the discomfort, but after several attempts, her legs seemed to be frozen in place as if they wouldn't obey her.

A night breeze blew by, and she then noticed that her face was cold.

I raised my hand to wipe it away, and there were two lines of tears.

The girl looked at her hands in surprise: "What happened to me?"

In that instant, the Crown Prince's handsome and dashing blue eyes filled all her thoughts.

"No, I should be wishing His Highness well... But why am I so heartbroken..."

She remembered the scene of her wedding and burst into tears even harder.

"Sorel, I've finally found you."

She heard her brother's voice behind her, and Solaire hurriedly wiped away her tears and took a few deep breaths.

Viscount Freys squeezed through with two attendants: "Look, it's already 2:30 in the morning."

“I usually let you have your way, but Uncle Topet is coming tomorrow. You can’t possibly see him and your aunt looking like you’re severely sleep-deprived, can you?”

Count Toppert of Silvera was a relative of theirs in Spain and held a high position. He had come to Paris to arrange a marriage between his son and Sorel.

Viscount Freys was extremely worried about his unconventional sister's marriage—she was already 26 years old, which was definitely considered old maid at Versailles.

Sorel immediately thought of marriage when she heard about her uncle Toppett.

For some reason, she suddenly became extremely angry, almost shouting, "Fine, I don't want to see him anyway!"

(P.S. I've made quite a few changes, please forgive me...)
(End of this chapter)