Chapter 630 -539: The Hope of Life
Western Reims, Meidion Village.
Paul Leono gently caressed his old house inch by inch as if touching a rare treasure, with tears rolling in his eyes, always swollen due to exposure to gas.
This was Leono’s home, the home his father had left him, bearing the memories of his childhood. After losing it for five years, he had returned to this warm homeland.
The Crown Prince had chopped off Mr. Boka’s head, which Leono had witnessed with his own eyes. That day, when he heard that the Tax Farmers were to be beheaded, he and his wife risked their family’s starvation, putting down their work to watch at the Louvre Square.
He thanked the official profusely, and spent several hours praying for the Crown Prince with his family.
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Half a month later, he finally got back his household deeds and land deeds, along with 35 francs in banknotes.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
Leono also borrowed 30 francs—with the land as collateral, it was easy to borrow money from the bank—to pay for surgery to remove his wife’s two festering fingers.
Afterward, their whole family ate their first beef stew in five years. The children, having eaten too eagerly, were clutching their stomachs and groaning all evening, but their faces showed no signs of pain.
Leono was reminiscing about the recent ups and downs when he saw his wife, who was packing their luggage, suddenly stand upright and look towards the front door.
“Dear, what’s wrong?”
“Sophie,” Mrs. Leono’s face was full of excitement as she picked up her skirt and ran out the door, “It’s old Sophie! I remember its hoofbeats.”
As Leono followed her out the door, he saw his wife embracing the already shedding old horse, both laughing and jumping, happy like a child.
For farmers like them, a horse was truly another pillar of the house. Having a horse meant their lives had hope.
Soon, Mrs. Leono began to weep softly, kissing Sophie’s slackening skin, murmuring incessantly, “Old friend, I thought we’d never see you again…”
Father Carlo, who had brought the horse, comforted her, making the sign of the cross on his chest: “Thank Jesus. You see, hasn’t everything turned out well?”
Mrs. Leono nodded and added: “And we must thank the Crown Prince. Oh, and the official from the tax bureau. Oh, and Lance Court…”
Father Carlo had Leono press his handprint on the documents for receiving Sophie, declined the lady of the house’s invitation to come in for some coffee, and hurried away: “It’s getting late, I still have to go baptize little Joseph. Perhaps another time.”
“Joseph?” Leon was a bit surprised. “Was it the Truell family’s child? He should have been baptized last week.”
“It’s Kolgeva’s youngest son.” The priest smiled and waved his hand. “Well, in the past two months, four children born in the village have all been named Joseph; I’m getting quite confused.”
In this small village of just over a hundred households, a third of the villagers had gone bankrupt or fallen into dire poverty within the past decade due to the exploitation by the tax farmers. However, now, seventy to eighty percent had regained their properties, and the Crown Prince’s prestige in the village was second only to that of Jesus.
These simple farmers expressed their gratitude to the Crown Prince in the most direct way—by naming their newborn sons Joseph. If it was a girl, they’d name her Josephine, the feminine form of Joseph.
In fact, recently, there were about sixty to seventy thousand newborns named Joseph throughout France…
Father Carlo took a few steps, then suddenly remembered and turned back to Leon, “By the way, next Sunday the parish plans to hold a Mass for His Highness the Crown Prince. You must come to participate.”
Leon immediately nodded. “We and the children will be there, Father.”
He then looked at his wife and whispered, “How much money do we have left?”
However, a few people did not respond and coldly muttered, “The Crown Prince actually allows nobles and those commoners to be beheaded together, it’s an insult to respectable people.”
“Yes, those commoners now also use beheading, which should have been reserved for the nobility!”
“Hmph, does the Royal Family intend to let these lowly people climb over our heads?”