I Reincarnated as a Prince Who Revolutionized the Kingdom-Chapter 66: Getting That One Valuable Person Back

The journey north was uneventful at first. Bruno, accompanied by Captain Vallier and a dozen royal guards, rode through the countryside, observing the slow recovery of the land.

Fields that had been burned during the war were beginning to show signs of regrowth. Farmers, once displaced, were returning to their lands. But there were also signs of unrest—villages where the people eyed the royal banners with suspicion, remnants of Republican influence still lingering.

Vallier, riding beside Bruno, watched the roads carefully. "Are you certain about this, Your Highness? Moreau is brilliant, but he is also stubborn. What if he refuses?"

Bruno kept his eyes on the road ahead. "Then I convince him."

Vallier smirked. "And if words fail?"

Bruno’s expression darkened. "They won’t."

By midday, they reached Montreval, a quiet town nestled between rolling hills. It was a place untouched by grandeur—simple homes, dirt roads, and a modest market square. It was hard to believe that one of the most brilliant economic minds of Elysea had chosen exile here.

The group dismounted near the town’s inn. Vallier gestured to two guards. "Spread out. Keep watch for anything unusual."

Bruno walked forward, his cloak billowing slightly in the wind. The town’s people paused, their gazes filled with recognition and unease. Even here, they knew who he was.

A young boy, no older than ten, ran ahead of them, disappearing behind one of the buildings. Bruno smirked. "It seems our arrival has been noted."

Vallier scoffed. "We are not exactly blending in."

Bruno strode toward a modest house near the center of town. It was well-kept but simple, a sign of a man who lived comfortably but without excess. He knocked twice.

For a moment, there was no answer.

Then, the door creaked open slightly, revealing a man in his late sixties. Jean-Baptiste Moreau. His once neatly combed gray hair was slightly unkempt, his sharp eyes taking in the sight of Prince Bruno standing at his doorstep.

Moreau exhaled slowly. "I expected this day would come."

Bruno smirked. "Then you know why I’m here."

Moreau opened the door wider. "Come inside, Your Highness."

The interior of Moreau’s home was lined with bookshelves, filled with economic treatises, ledgers, and notes written in his own hand. A fireplace crackled in the corner, the only warmth in the otherwise cold room.

Bruno took a seat across from him as Moreau poured two cups of tea.

Moreau studied him carefully. "You have done what I thought impossible. The Republic is gone. You sit on the throne."

Bruno sipped his tea. "And yet, the nation is broken. I need you, Moreau."

Moreau chuckled. "You need an old man who was discarded by both the monarchy and the Republic?"

Bruno’s gaze hardened. "No. I need the man who understood the economy better than anyone else in Elysea’s history. I need the only man who predicted the collapse before anyone else did."

Moreau sighed, rubbing his temples. "And what do you intend to do?"

Bruno leaned forward. "A National Bank—one that will stabilize our currency, control loans, and regulate industry. We cannot build a kingdom on a foundation of financial instability."

Moreau narrowed his eyes. "And you believe the people will accept this?"

Bruno smirked. "I believe they will have no choice."

Moreau exhaled. "This will require immense planning. The nobles will resist, the merchants will fear government interference, and the common people will not understand its significance."

Bruno stood, his expression unyielding. "Which is why I need you."

A silence stretched between them.

Then, Moreau sighed. "Damn you, boy. You are too much like your father—but unlike him, you actually listen."

Bruno smirked. "So, you’ll do it?"

Moreau exhaled. "I will return to Elysee. But I have conditions."

Bruno raised an eyebrow. "Name them."

Moreau’s eyes glinted. "Full authority over economic policy. No nobles interfering in my decisions."

Bruno smirked. "Done."

Moreau crossed his arms. "And one more thing."

Bruno arched an eyebrow. "What?"

Moreau took a sip of tea. "If I’m going to fix this mess, I expect wine and decent food."

Bruno chuckled. "I’ll see to it personally."

Moreau sighed, shaking his head. "Then we have much work to do."

Bruno extended his hand. "Welcome back, Minister Moreau."

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Moreau stared at his hand for a moment before clasping it firmly. "Let’s save this damned kingdom."

Bruno watched as Moreau leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as if absorbing the weight of his own decision. The old minister may have agreed, but he was not a man who accepted things lightly. He would expect full cooperation, and Bruno was more than willing to give it—so long as Moreau delivered results.

The fireplace crackled, casting flickering shadows across the study. Bruno set his cup down on the wooden table between them. "We leave for Elysee at first light," he said firmly.

Moreau let out a heavy sigh, finishing his tea before standing up. "Give me tonight to gather my things. I left behind a world I thought I would never return to. Walking back into it will not be easy."

Bruno nodded. "Take whatever time you need." He turned toward the door, but Moreau’s voice stopped him.

"You’ll have enemies, Your Highness." The old man’s voice was low, weighted with certainty. "The nobles will not sit by idly while you strip them of their wealth and influence over the economy. The merchants, too, will resist—many profited from the Republic’s chaos. Your reforms will be opposed from all sides."

Bruno turned back to him, his expression unreadable. "I did not expect this to be easy, Moreau."

Moreau smirked. "Good. Because it won’t be."

The tension lingered for a moment before Bruno gave him a final nod and stepped outside. Vallier was waiting near the horses, scanning the darkening town with quiet vigilance.

"How did it go?" the captain asked as Bruno approached.

"He agreed," Bruno replied simply, mounting his horse.

Vallier raised an eyebrow. "That easy?"

Bruno smirked. "Not at all."

"Now it’s time for you to speak with your future wife."

"That is if she agrees," Bruno replied.