The cold wind blew against the grandstand located on the top floor of the main hall.

Although the field of vision here was extremely wide, no one saw even a single policeman, soldier or city defense force.

Everywhere you can see, there is a gray sea of ​​people. I am afraid that even the grandest celebration cannot gather so many citizens in one place.

Louis XV sat weakly on a wicker chair. Combining the banners underneath and the rumors he heard this morning about Madame Du Barry's misappropriation of relief funds, he almost guessed that this group of people came for Madame Du Barry.

It's just that His Majesty the King is puzzled to understand what his dear Jeanne Bequé did to trigger such an unimaginable protest.

"Where is Madame Du Barry?" Louis XV suddenly asked.

The courtiers looked at each other in confusion. No one knew where Madame Du Barry was at this time. Someone stepped forward and reminded:

"Madame Du Barry left the Tuileries Palace this morning, and you have been informed of this, Your Majesty."

Louis XV waved his hands impatiently and said:

"I mean where is she now!"

Everyone looked at each other in confusion for a while. Those who could stay with Louis XV were all at the top of the royal bureaucracy, but they had not received any reports from their servants about Madame Du Barry.

No one even knew that Madame Du Barry was in the Tuileries Palace at this moment.

Seeing the clueless looks of his courtiers, Louis XV suppressed the anger in his heart and exhaled a long white breath.

"Your Majesty, why don't you go back to the greenhouse, it's very windy here."

Caesar Gabriel glanced at His Majesty the King, whose face was pale in the cold wind, and suggested softly:

"If there is any situation, we will report it to you as soon as possible. Moreover, judging from the current situation, these mobs will not do anything for a while..."

"No!"

Louis XV tightly grasped the armrests of the wicker chair and stared at the crowd below with gritted teeth. Every word he spoke seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth:

"I will not leave the Tuileries Palace until I see with my own eyes the last citizen leaving the Tuileries."

"His Majesty..."

Caesar Gabriel hesitated to say anything else. Many people in the court knew that His Majesty the King's health was deteriorating day by day.

Because of his love for finding flowers, Louis XV favored countless women, which inevitably made him contract some unspeakable diseases.

In his prime, Louis XV might have been able to withstand those stubborn diseases with his healthy body, but the old king is now sixty years old, and his aging is not only reflected in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and increasingly dry skin.

Up.

Everyone looked at His Majesty the King with worry, hoping that he would not hold on in the cold wind.

At this moment, a courtier in the crowd suddenly pointed to a street in the distance with wide eyes and said in disbelief:

"Wait...what is that?!"

Everyone was shocked and before they could react, the courtier immediately covered his mouth and exclaimed:

"A carriage? Coming towards the Tuileries?"

People subconsciously looked in the direction of the courtier's finger. It was indeed a large troika, slowly driving through the crowd of people and heading towards the Tuileries Palace.

"It's impossible. The area around here has been blocked for a long time. How did the carriage get in?"

"Isn't he afraid of being overturned by the mob, including people and cars?!"

"Whose car is it?"

Everyone present, except Caesar Gabriel, and even His Majesty the King, stared blankly at the carriage that was struggling to pass through the crowd.

They know very well that not to mention the poor at the bottom, even the middle class cannot afford such a large troika.

In other words, the owner of the carriage must be a dignitary from the upper class and cannot be in the same group as these mobs.

But this only made everyone more confused as to which noble or bureaucrat was desperate enough to dare to drive the carriage into this quagmire filled with the anger of the masses at this time.

Isn't he afraid of being torn to pieces on the spot by this angry and angry mob?!

And no one in the stands could answer these questions. Everyone could only stare at the unexpected carriage in shock and confusion, looking at it as if it were a lone boat traveling on the turbulent sea of ​​people, slowly approaching Du.

Illery Palace.

It wasn't until the carriage got close enough that the courtiers could vaguely see the coat of arms on the wall of the carriage.

However, that very familiar coat of arms did not answer any of their doubts. Instead, it made the courtiers scream out in surprise:

"That's...a black Moorish profile! It's the coat of arms of Corsica!"

"Is it Monsignor Bonaparte's car?!"

"Why did Monsignor Bonaparte come to the Tuileries Palace at this time?!"

No courtier could figure out how Laurence Bonaparte could appear in the Tuileries Palace at such a time and at such great risk.

In the eyes of these noble courtiers, those lowly and unruly people are all vicious thugs with no eyesight and no brains. They may overturn His Excellency Bonaparte's car on the spot at any time and kill this heroic Corsican.

Trampled into a puddle of flesh.

Thinking of the bloody scene, the courtiers all subconsciously took a breath of cold air and broke into a cold sweat for His Excellency Bonaparte, who was in extreme danger.

Louis XV also stared closely at the conspicuous Corsican coat of arms on the carriage, making sure that he had not seen it wrong due to his presbyopia, and then muttered to himself in confusion:

"Lawrence? Does he know any news... He actually wants to cross this fierce mob to report to me regardless of the danger..."

Thinking of this, Louis XV's face suddenly showed a hint of emotion, and a crystal teardrop even flowed from the corner of his eye, and he sighed with emotion:

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! "What a loyal and brave person who actually puts his own safety at risk!"

After saying that, Louis XV stood up suddenly and ordered loudly:

"Come here, give an order to the Swiss Guard immediately and ask them to send a detachment to protect Laurence Bonaparte's car. You must protect Laurence Bonaparte's body just like you protect me. Do you understand?"

...

"Your Excellency Bonaparte..."

In the carriage, Dean Edmund looked through the window at the crowds of demonstrators outside. He couldn't help feeling frightened and said to Lawrence worriedly:

"Are you sure these citizens won't attack us? These people at the bottom hate the powerful the most."

As the distinguished President of the High Court, President Edmund did not want to end up being torn to pieces by a group of untouchables.

Lawrence, on the other hand, was still quietly closing his eyes and concentrating, as if they were driving on a quiet country road rather than the center of a lively protest crowd.

Faced with Dean Edmund's concerns, Lawrence just opened his eyes symbolically and glanced at the crowd outside the window, and said nonchalantly:

"Please rest assured, Mr. Dean, I should still have some reputation in the hearts of Paris citizens."

"Fame? You mean...that's what it is."

Dean Edmund was stunned for a moment, then nodded in realization.

He also knew about the charity auction held by Lawrence a week ago. Through this kind act, Monsignor Bonaparte would indeed gain a good status among the citizens of Paris in the short term.

In fact, this was indeed the case. When the crowded crowd heard the stable boy shouting: "This is the carriage of His Excellency Bonaparte!", they all actively gave way to a passage:

"Is it Monsignor Bonaparte?! Is he going to the Tuileries too?"

"This direction...should be right."

"That's right! I heard that Monsignor Bonaparte and Madame Du Barry are at odds with each other. The necklace Monsignor Bonaparte donated for auction was won from Madame Du Barry."

"Hiss... you can't be wrong. Since Madame Du Barry has misappropriated the charity donated by Monsieur Bonaparte, he must go to the palace to report the matter in person."

"Let Monsieur Bonaparte go over! He will surely bring Madame Du Barry out!"

The citizens did not show extreme hatred for Laurence Bonaparte, as Louis XV and his courtiers imagined.

On the contrary, the citizens were already grateful to Laurence Bonaparte for organizing the charity auction. At this moment, they also had a common enemy as Madame Du Barry.

The demonstrators already regarded Laurence Bonaparte as their ally, and even pinned their hopes of bringing back Madame Du Barry on this carriage slowly driving towards the palace.

"Huh...that's good."

Dean Edmund breathed a sigh of relief, but his expression was still frowning. He stared at Lawrence for a while and then said:

"It's just... Your Excellency, you can just stay behind the scenes. Is it necessary to go to the Tuileries Palace in person? I'm worried that this will make His Majesty the King suspicious."

Since the High Court and the Duke of Choiseul were staunch allies who were almost tied together, Dean Edmund naturally regarded Lawrence as a powerful ally and did not want him to lose his position in front of the throne.

"No, Mr. Dean, I have to go there in person." Lawrence said without opening his eyes:

"It is impossible for me to completely put aside my connection with all this. If I hide behind the scenes in this situation, it will only make His Majesty suspicious."

As he spoke, Lawrence slowly opened his eyes, leaned against the window and looked at the Tuileries Palace not far away, and added:

"To advance before retreating, to enter the situation with one's own body, this is the only way."

...

More than twenty minutes later, in the Throne Hall of the Tuileries Palace.

Louis XV was already waiting here and was distraught. He couldn't wait to know what was happening outside and what happened to his dear Jeanne.

"His Majesty..."

Lawrence and Dean Edmund were escorted by a group of guards to the throne room, where they bowed and saluted His Majesty the King.
To be continued...