I Am the Crown Prince in France

Chapter 350 Alexei’s Nemesis

The first release of this book provides you with a reading experience with no wrong chapters and no out-of-order chapters.

"Oh, okay." Alexandra pouted and changed her words, "Count Bobulinski, I want to 'fly' faster."

"I'm afraid it can't be done." Alexei spread his hands, "They said this is already the limit speed. But they will replace the high-pressure steam engine next month, uh, it seems to be called this, and then it can go faster. Soon."

The little girl exhaled in disappointment:

"Ah, that will have to wait for a long time...but fortunately we have to stay in Paris for a while."

As she was talking, a bell rang nearby and the carousel slowly stopped.

The little girl jumped off the wooden horse, glanced around with a pair of big eyes, and pointed at the winding waterway of "Rapid Rapids" not far away:

"I'm going to play that! I remember the last time I was in Paris, it wasn't there yet."

Alexey glanced at the scorching sun above his head, ignored the handkerchief handed over by the valet next to him, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and said with a grimace:

"It's such a hot day! Maybe we can wait until it's cloudy to play again. You also said that we will stay here for a long time."

"That's not possible." Alexandra touched Mickey beside her, and pulled her uncle towards the rapids without any explanation, "What you just bought is a 'play ticket', you can't waste it."

A 30 livre free ticket allows you to play any item in the amusement park until dark.

"If it hadn't been for that damn cold winter," Alexey said with a helpless expression as he was dragged forward by the seven-year-old girl, "we could have arrived in Paris in early summer, and the weather shouldn't have been so torturous then. people."

In fact, Catherine II asked him to set off with his granddaughter at the end of last year. However, not long after he left Petersburg, he encountered a terrible cold that had been rare in decades, and the temperature dropped to below zero. It was 30 degrees, and their breath turned to ice - at that time, the whole of Europe, including France, was experiencing a cold winter - so they had no choice but to return to the Winter Palace.

As we all know, after the cold winter in Russia, what ushered in was not a warm spring suitable for traveling, but a muddy ground where melted snow mixed with soil. Regardless of whether it is a person or a horse, every step on this road requires three kicks or hooves to get rid of the entanglement of the mud.

So they waited until early summer before setting off for Paris.

Alexandra glanced at her uncle and smiled sweetly:

"If you had not 'discussed' poetry with Mrs. Silankiewicz in Kremenets for more than a month, and had not 'stayed' with Miss Isabella in Prague for more than 40 days, we would indeed have been able to stay in the cool Arriving here in early summer.”

She bared her teeth again and added seriously:

"If I hadn't been thinking about coming to the amusement park, you might still be at Miss Isabella's place..."

"Ah, cough -" Alexey hurriedly interrupted his niece with a dry cough, then looked around guiltily, and saw that no one seemed to hear him, and then he breathed a sigh of relief - what Alexandra just said The words were spoken in French. If others heard this, I would probably become a new talking point in the Paris aristocratic circle tomorrow.

He quickly put Alexandra on the boat that was rushing through the rapids, and said with an enthusiastic smile:

"You can play as long as you want. Well, actually it's not too hot..."

Two hours later, Alexandra played all the rides twice and finally decided to return to her residence with satisfaction.

After boarding the carriage parked outside the gate, she reluctantly looked at the facilities in the amusement park and sighed:

"I heard that these were designed by His Royal Highness the Dauphin of France. I really don't know why he is so smart."

Alexey, who was exhausted from the intense heat, answered angrily:

"He is a prince. It is normal to be smarter than ordinary people..."

The little girl looked at him seriously, as if thinking about something:

"Uncle Alexei, speaking of which, you are also a prince. Then you can definitely help me build an 'Eden Playground' in Petersburg. I will be very grateful to you."

"Cough, cough..."

Alexey almost choked to death on his niece, but fortunately he had gotten used to it, so he immediately changed the subject:

"Tomorrow is Mr. Greuze's first lecture. Do you need to prepare in advance?"

When Alexandra heard about things related to painting, she immediately became serious:

"You are right, I should check the paints. After all, they are all brought from far away Vienna. And tomorrow's clothes, it is best to choose them in advance..."

She liked Mr. Greuze's paintings very much, and one of her goals in coming to Paris this time was to learn painting skills from him.

Drawing is her favorite subject of study.

The next day.

Jean-Baptiste Greuze, the famous French melancholic painter who created "The Guitarist", is in his villa in the Louvre district of Paris.

Several aristocratic girls in luxurious clothes were sitting demurely on chairs in front of Greuze, listening to him talk about portrait composition techniques.

But the ladies would glance at the youngest girl sitting in the middle from time to time, with curiosity and a little repulsion in their eyes.

In a brief introduction before class, they learned that the girl was a Russian Grand Duchess named Alexandra Pavlovna, who seemed to be the eldest daughter of the Russian Crown Prince.

However, in their view, the Russians were just a group of semi-civilized Tatars who tried their best to imitate France but could not imitate them.

In short, she was a bumpkin.

So even though she was an archduchess, they didn't think she was a big deal. On the contrary, they felt very confused that a bumpkin could come to the famous Mr. Greuze's class.

Soon, Greuze finished the theoretical part, and after drawing some examples on the spot, he called his maid to be a model and told the students to use the techniques he had just taught to paint a portrait of this thirty-year-old lady.

The students came to the studio. Alexandra set up the easel, took out the precious pigments she brought from Vienna, tightened her little face, and began to paint seriously.

In the afternoon, Greuze returned to the studio. When his eyes swept over the works of several students, his face showed disappointment.

Although these disciples were of noble birth and paid him high tuition fees, to be honest, their painting talents were very average.

If he was not trying to supplement his family income, he really didn't want to waste his precious time on them.

Until he saw the paintings of the little girl who had just come today, he was stunned - her painting skills were indeed not mature enough, and even her basic sketching skills were a bit poor, but she understood the skills he had just taught very thoroughly, as if she had practiced them many times.

What surprised him even more was that there was a unique spirituality in her paintings, which made people feel that there was a beating heart in the colors she painted.