Chapter 536: Camelia's "Expert Skills"
If Joseph had known that Camelia's maid outfit cost 2,300 francs, he would have undoubtedly exclaimed, "What a wasteful little lady!"
However, thanks to an inheritance of 50,000 francs from her grandmother and the hefty compensation Joseph helped her secure from Baron Walter, Camelia had become something of a "little rich girl" herself. Spending this amount barely scratched her budget.
In fact, the tuition fees she paid to learn "advanced techniques" from the noblewomen of Versailles were far more expensive than this dress.
Camelia glanced at the Crown Prince, who was savoring the pastries she had prepared. Mentally, she went over her plan for the evening.
Since her previous "operation" had ended in failure, she had been biding her time, meticulously refining her strategy. Tonight, she finally had the perfect opportunity.
Dr. Pelna's mother's birthday was tomorrow, meaning Pelna would be away from Versailles for two days—removing the greatest obstacle in Camelia's path.
And today, the Crown Prince had decided to return to his chambers to rest. It was the ideal moment to make her move!
As Joseph stretched wearily after his late-night snack, preparing to wash up, Camelia approached with a slight curtsy and a soft voice:
"Your Highness, you've worked hard all day. You must be exhausted."
"Ah? Yes, a bit tired."
Camelia offered a sweet smile:
"Your Highness, I've recently learned massage techniques from Madame Morsan. She calls it 'the exercise of nobles.' It's excellent for relieving fatigue and stress. Perhaps I could try it on you?"
This technique, supposedly passed down from Roman times, had cost her a whopping 3,000 francs to learn—but she was confident it would shine in this critical moment.
Joseph, rubbing his sore shoulders, thought to himself: This girl knows everything. She's like the ultimate maid. With a smile, he nodded:
"You're truly multi-talented. Please, go ahead."
Camelia felt a surge of joy. The first step of her new strategy had succeeded! Lady Céleste had assured her that once the massage began, the Crown Prince would be hers...
Her face turned crimson at the thought, and she quickly refocused, signaling to the other maids.
They wheeled in a special bed, and Joseph immediately recognized its purpose from the circular hole at the headrest—it was a professional massage bed. His expectations for Camelia's skills rose further.
Finally, a professional masseuse! And she's a beautiful, curvaceous young maid in uniform! Life as the Crown Prince is finally offering the perks I deserve after years of hard work for France.
He removed his coat and handed it to a nearby maid, then lay face-down on the bed as Camelia directed. The circular opening supported his face, allowing him to breathe easily. Closing his eyes, he prepared to enjoy a relaxing massage.
Camelia maintained a professional demeanor as she opened her set of massage tools, exchanging a quick glance with the other maids.
The maids immediately sprang into action: stoking the fireplace, lighting incense, dimming the lamps, and placing pink-tinted glass covers over them. After setting the mood, they all quietly exited the room—they had been handsomely paid by Camelia for their cooperation.
With the room now bathed in soft pink light, warmed by the fire, and perfumed with a faint, soothing aroma, Joseph felt a pair of delicate hands press gently against his back. The sensation was so pleasant that he almost drifted off before the massage even began.
Meanwhile, at the far end of a hallway in Versailles' southern wing, Sorel slipped past a patrolling guard and into the shadows, quickly shedding her dress to reveal a tight black hunting outfit beneath.
Glancing around to ensure she was alone, she crept into a room adjacent to the Crown Prince's chambers.
As she moved stealthily past a sleeping noble family, her hand instinctively patted her pocket, where a thick wad of cash rested—5,000 francs in total.
She had spent over a year working tirelessly, earning 3,500 francs, and combined it with income from her late mother's small mulberry orchard to amass the sum.
During a swordsmanship competition, her own arrogance had cost the Crown Prince 5,000 livres—or so she believed. As a woman of principle, Sorel felt duty-bound to repay the debt.
Initially, she planned to hand the money directly to the Crown Prince. But knowing his kind and forgiving nature, she suspected he would refuse it. So, she decided to secretly leave the money in his chamber, ensuring he couldn't decline.
In the moonlight, a shadowy figure darted across the palace courtyard with cat-like grace, skillfully avoiding the gaze of patrolling guards.
Reaching the Crown Prince's window, Sorel peeked inside and noticed a faint pink glow through a crack in the curtains. Her brow furrowed.
Is he still awake?
Biting her lip, she tugged her hood lower. She wouldn't turn back now. Confident in her abilities, she was sure she could deliver the money unnoticed—even if the Prince was still awake.
What Sorel failed to notice was that another window to the left was slightly ajar. Behind it, Captain Cressaud of the Crown Prince's Guard was silently observing her.
Cressaud had spotted her as soon as she entered the neighboring room, and he recognized her immediately.
From his memory, this young woman had appeared by the Crown Prince's side multiple times—and the two seemed quite close.
If she's sneaking into the Prince's chambers alone this late, it's probably for... well, you know.
Cressaud hesitated. Interrupting her might spoil the Prince's... evening plans. But if her intentions were malicious, failing to act could lead to disaster.
Gesturing for his men to remain silent, he pressed his hand to his sword and quietly pushed open the Prince's door, listening intently.
Sorel, meanwhile, deftly unlatched the window and slipped into the room without a sound.
At that moment, Joseph's drowsy tranquility was shattered by a piercing scream:
"AAAAAHHH!"
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