When the Prince asked his question, Talleyrand’s face immediately twisted into a pained expression. “Your Highness, I know a bit about this, but… this sort of thing…”

Joseph smiled, reassuring him, “Don’t worry, I have no ill intentions. I simply want to give out some gifts.”

Talleyrand hesitated, struggling internally, but the temptation of the Foreign Minister position eventually won out. He picked up a pen and paper and started writing.

After a few moments, he handed Joseph a paper with a dozen names on it. “Your Highness, these are the ones I know. Please, don’t say it was me who told you. As for the gatherings you mentioned…”

He looked a bit uneasy. “They usually happen on the second Sunday of every month. The meeting place in Paris is at a manor in Montmartre. The Bishops of Valois and Reims often attend.”

“The second Sunday of the month?” Joseph thought for a moment, recalling the calendar. “That’s tomorrow, isn’t it? Well, that’s good timing. I was planning to send for the bishops of the nearby provinces anyway, so this saves me some time.”

He then looked at Talleyrand with a teasing smile. “You seem quite knowledgeable about these matters.”

“What? No, I’m not, I didn’t—” Talleyrand almost stumbled into a string of denials before quickly regaining his composure. “Ahem, Your Highness, I’ve just heard some rumors, that’s all. You know, I have a good memory.”

Joseph nodded, letting it slide, then thought aloud, “In that case, there’s no time to go to the police academy. Let’s head straight to Montmartre. Oh, and we’ll need to buy some gifts.”

According to his original plan, Joseph had intended to attend a military mobilization meeting at the police academy first. Since this situation involved those military figures, he needed to prepare the army for any contingencies. And if there were still isolated uprisings, the army would need to step in to restore order.

The following evening, around 6 PM, at the “White Maple Grove” estate in Montmartre, more than twenty mid-to-high-ranking clergy members had gathered. Among them were prominent figures like the Archbishop of Paris, Beaumont, and the Archbishop of Valois, D’Avreux. Each of them was accompanied by a young “servant,” all of whom were strikingly handsome.

The atmosphere was filled with soft music as the clergy exchanged warm greetings. One broad-faced bishop was chatting with a colleague from the Nemours district when he noticed the jeweled cufflinks on the young man leaning against his friend.

Surprised, he lifted his own “servant’s” arm, which also bore the same cufflinks.

“Your servant has a pair too?” the other clergyman asked curiously.

The broad-faced bishop nodded. “Yes, someone gave them to him yesterday. How about yours?”

“A stranger gave them to Alcose.”

They didn’t think much of it at first, as they were used to receiving gifts from those seeking favors. When people couldn’t reach them directly, they often tried to win over their “servants.”

However, as more clergy members began to notice that their “servants” were wearing similar cufflinks, the atmosphere started to change. The clergy put down their drinks, stopped teasing their “servants,” and began discussing who might have sent the cufflinks and why. Those who had taken their “handsome servants” upstairs for some “recreation” quickly rejoined the group, throwing on their robes.

Although Catholic clergy were supposed to be strictly celibate, mid-to-high-ranking clergy often found ways to “relax.” Many had secret mistresses, but young male “companions” were considered a trendier choice.

While these activities were an open secret within the Church, any public exposure would be disastrous for their reputations, especially gatherings like this one where they indulged in “special friendships.” The person who sent the cufflinks clearly knew the identity of each “servant.”

With the mood ruined, the bishops discreetly began leaving the White Maple Grove estate.

Archbishop Beaumont’s carriage had just left the neatly trimmed woods surrounding the estate when he noticed a well-dressed young man with blonde hair signaling him from the roadside.

He immediately ordered the driver to stop, recognizing the man as one of the Prince’s close aides.

Eymon approached the carriage, bowing politely to the archbishop. “Your Grace, the Prince would like to invite you for a drink.”

Beaumont couldn’t refuse such an invitation. When he followed Eymon to a villa in the center of Montmartre, he was surprised to find that five others were already there, including the Archbishops of Nemours and Reims—familiar faces from the earlier gathering.

Talleyrand, feeling guilty about leaking the details of the gathering, had wisely chosen not to attend.

Realizing something was amiss, Beaumont maintained a calm facade and greeted the Prince with a bow.

Joseph invited the archbishops to sit and began fiddling with one of the cufflinks. He cleared his throat and said, “Ahem, I’m sure you’ve all heard about the uprisings in the southern provinces?”

The archbishops, uneasy as they recognized the cufflinks on Joseph’s wrist, nodded. “Yes, Your Highness, we’ve heard.”

“May the Lord calm the violence in their hearts.”

“May the Lord forgive them…”

Joseph signaled for Eymon to pour wine for the archbishops. “We all know that the uprisings were caused by food shortages. And since you all represent the Lord’s mercy, I hope…”

Archbishop Beaumont quickly caught on and interrupted, “Your Highness, I’m willing to donate 10,000 livres for disaster relief!”

Archbishop D’Avreux of Valois chimed in, “I’ll donate 10,000 livres as well.”

But Joseph smiled and shook his head. He was aiming for the Church’s “secret stash,” and a few thousand livres wouldn’t cut it.

“Thank you for your generosity,” he said directly. “But what I’m requesting is that the Church donate the stored grain to the people in need.”

The archbishops exchanged glances, then forced smiles. “Your Highness, the Church’s grain reserves are not nearly enough to make a difference.”

“Indeed, it wouldn’t even match the value of the money we’ve already pledged.”

Joseph smiled serenely. “There’s no need for modesty. I know that your cellars hold enough grain to feed the people in those regions for at least half a month.”

The archbishops were visibly shocked. “Who told you that?”

“Your Highness, that’s simply not true…”

“If you don’t believe us, you can ask Archbishop Brienne…”

Joseph knew that most of the Church’s grain reserves came from the tithe or from the harvests on Church lands. While these incomes technically belonged to the Church, they were supposed to be used for public expenses like education, charity, and religious activities. However, the grain in the Church’s cellars had been secretly hoarded by the mid-to-high-ranking clergy, considered their private wealth. That’s why they were so reluctant to let anyone, especially the crown, know about it.

In fact, very few people knew about this hidden wealth, and it was nearly impossible to track. It wasn’t until the French Revolution that these reserves were forcibly revealed.

Joseph raised his hand in a calming gesture, still smiling. “I assure you, on behalf of His Majesty the King, that no one will question the origins of this grain.”

He glanced at his cufflinks. “Of course, I hope you won’t be too stingy with the grain. I have a good idea of how much grain and wine is stored in the Church’s cellars.”

He was bluffing, of course, but the mention of wine convinced the archbishops that the Prince knew more than they had expected.

After exchanging looks, Archbishop Beaumont, speaking for the group, cautiously suggested, “Your Highness, if you really need the grain, we could sell it to you at market price.”

Joseph sighed in relief. This met his minimum requirements—at least he could buy the grain to solve the crisis. But that wasn’t his ultimate goal.

Supplying enough grain for the entire western and southern regions of France was no small feat, and it would be easy for the Church to underreport the amount they provided, leaving him at a disadvantage.

Taking a deep breath, Joseph pressed on. “I’m hoping the Church will donate this grain.”

“This… this isn’t possible…” The archbishops were shocked. The Prince was essentially asking them to give up their hoarded wealth!

Joseph motioned for them to calm down. “If the Church donates enough grain to sustain the affected provinces for a month, I can authorize the Church to resume selling indulgences.”

The Catholic doctrine of original sin meant that all humanity bore guilt. Since the Middle Ages, the Church had devised indulgences, telling believers that purchasing them would reduce their time in purgatory. This practice had made the Church immensely wealthy but also sparked outrage among the secular world, leading the Church to cease selling indulgences in the 16th century under pressure.

Archbishop D’Avreux’s eyes lit up. “Are you serious?”

If the crown allowed the Church to sell indulgences again, the profit from their current grain reserves would be a mere pittance in comparison.

But Beaumont and the others hesitated. “Your Highness, even if the crown agrees, there will be significant opposition…”

Joseph nodded. “You’re right. That’s why we need to innovate. The old pitch about ‘buying your way out of hell’ won’t work anymore.”

The archbishops exchanged puzzled glances. “What do you suggest?”

“First, we need to rebrand them,” Joseph explained. “We could call them ‘Blessing Cards,’ ‘Life Tokens,’ or ‘True Love Charms,’ for instance.

“And their purpose should be updated too. Just like the names suggest, some could be used to strengthen a lover’s affection, while others could be used to bless parents with good health.

“You see, getting into heaven feels too distant and abstract. But parents and lovers are right in front of you. People have hopes and frustrations about them. If they can ‘fix’ those issues immediately, they’ll be more willing to pay.

“Oh, and we need to be mindful of the pricing. The old indulgences were too expensive. If someone buys a card and can’t afford meat for two years, they’ll be upset. But if you sell a card for 4 sous, it’s like buying two newspapers. Even if it doesn’t work… ahem, with the Lord’s blessing, it’s sure to work.”

“In short, we need to think of it as a volume business, not something you cash in all at once…”

As Joseph continued explaining, the archbishops’ eyes began to light up. They could already imagine young couples coming to the Church, spending 4 sous on a “True Love Charm” to bless their relationship, with the Church profiting from each transaction.

The Archbishop of Nemours hesitantly asked, “Your Highness, do you think this will work?”

Joseph thought, You’ve got the almighty power of the Church’s brand, yet you’re still relying on tithes to make ends meet? In the 21st century, people would laugh at you. Look at the Shaolin Temple and Wudang Mountain—just a bit of marketing, and they make a fortune!

He smiled and assured them, “I guarantee that if you follow my plan, Paris alone will generate at least 500,000 livres annually from these various charms. And that’s a conservative estimate.”

“500,000! Are you serious?”

“Of course, we’ll need to invest in some advertising and promotional strategies,” Joseph explained. “For example, the ‘True Love Charm’ should be tied to St. Valentine’s Day. Actually, that name is too cumbersome—let’s just call it Valentine’s Day.”

By the late 18th century, February 14 was recognized as a holiday, but it wasn’t nearly as popular as it would become in later centuries.

“We need to promote the idea that ‘if you don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, it’s not true love,’ or that ‘buying the first True Love Charm of the year guarantees a perfect relationship.’ We should create stories and legends around the idea that ‘only a Church-blessed True Love Charm can ensure everlasting love.’

“After that, spend money on celebrations, balls, and matchmaking events on that day. Then just wait for the men and women to flood the Church.

“Similar to the True Love Charm, we could introduce a ‘Longevity Token’ for Father’s Day or Mother’s Day—those holidays haven’t been established yet, so the Church can decide when to celebrate them.

“A ‘Wealth Blessing’ could coincide with a commerce festival, and a ‘Blessing Card’ with Easter. That’s the general idea… Once we establish the company, we’ll have a full plan ready.”

The archbishops were stunned. They had never imagined that indulgences could be marketed in so many ways, or that it would end up with the creation of a company…

But the more they thought about it, the more they realized that the Prince’s plan was incredibly feasible.

Joseph wasn’t worried that they might try to run with the idea on their own. These commercial strategies might seem simple, but they were far from easy to implement without experience.

After a brief discussion, the archbishops agreed. Once again, Archbishop Beaumont acted as their spokesperson. “Your Highness, let’s consider this donation of grain as our investment in this Church Development Company.”

Based on their calculations, if they followed the Prince’s plan, they could recoup the grain donation within two years. After that, it would be pure profit. Plus, they wouldn’t have to worry about their secret gathering being exposed.

(End of Chapter)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep