As the carriage carrying Napoleon and Fouche heads towards H?tel de Juigné, the headquarters of the Minister of Police. Fouche was debriefing him about the one responsible for slandering his daughter.
"So the name of the newspaper company that published the article is Le Monde Parisien, it opened just a year ago. The name of the owner is Henri Laurent, he is a former emigré…"
Napoleon listened to Fouche's words while looking out of the window where he saw the infrastructure development of the city. Paris is starting to look more modern with Haussmanian buildings dominating the skyline and the roads being widened and paved with concrete.
Though these are just parts of it. Napoleon had been thinking of a way to get the infrastructure project to speed up, and he had an idea, importing laborers from populous countries such as India and China. As of right now, most workers they outsourced are from their colonies in North Africa and the Middle East, they aren't enough.
"As for the one who wrote the article, the name was Gul Bureau, he is an independent journalist, a new one to the field. Probably trying to make a name for himself"
"Well, certainly the fastest way to get recognized is to write a controversial and scandalous article. Of all the people he could have selected to target, he chose my daughter," Napoleon replied.
"You are going to meet him very soon, sir," Fouche said and five minutes later, they arrived at the headquarters of the Minister of Police.
Fouche was the first to step out, followed by Napoleon. The guards stationed outside the headquarters quickly presented arms for the Emperor.
Napoleon acknowledged the salute of the guards and strode purposefully into the headquarters of the Minister of Police. His mind was now focused on the task at hand: confronting Gul Bureau and getting to the bottom of this slanderous article.
As they entered the building, Fouche led the way through the labyrinthine corridors, past stern-faced agents and bustling clerks who would bow reverently as Napoleon passed by.
Finally, they reached a small, dimly lit interrogation room. Gul Bureau was sitting at a table, nervously tapping his fingers on its surface. He looked up as Napoleon and Fouche entered, his face pale.
"Yo-Your Majesty?" Gul stammered.
"Do not 'Your Majesty' me," Napoleon coldly interrupted. He fixed his penetrating gaze on Gul Bureau, who seemed even more uneasy under the Emperor's stern scrutiny.
Gul Bureau, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, desperately searched for words to explain his actions to the Emperor. He knew that his future depended on convincing Napoleon of his motivations.
"Your Majesty," Gul began, his voice trembling, "I come from a humble background. My family has struggled for generations, and I saw journalism as my way out of poverty. I wanted to tell stories, to shed light on the truth, but breaking into the competitive world of journalism is not easy."
He took a deep breath and continued, "I had no intention of causing such harm to your family, sir. I thought that by writing a controversial story, I could capture the public's attention and finally make a name for myself in this cutthroat industry. I didn't realize the consequences it would have."
"No intention you say? Do you have any idea how damaging your article is to my daughter? Now everyone thinks of her as a cheat, who won the competition because her father is an Emperor of France. Do you even have any evidence backing up your article?"
Napoleon's voice grew colder as he pressed Gul for answers. The Emperor's frustration was evident in his piercing gaze.
Gul shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Your Majesty, I... I did not have concrete evidence."
"THEN WHY THE HELL YOU WROTE THAT ARTICLE?!" Napoleon's voice cracked like a whip.
Napoleon's outburst caused Gul to recoil in his chair, and he was speechless, unable to find words to defend his actions.
"Writing slanderous articles is a crime, you know. You will be sentenced to hard labor where you will mine coals every day until your sentence is served. Speaking of sentences, how long is the sentence for slander under the current laws, Fouche?" Napoleon turned to his Minister of Police, Fouche.
Fouche, who had been quietly observing the interrogation, replied, "Your Majesty, under the current laws of France, slander can carry a punishment of hard labor for up to one year, along with a fine. However, in more severe cases, such as this, the penalty may be more severe. Five years."
Hearing that, Gul gulped nervously. Five years of hard labor in coal mines is a harsh sentence, and the weight of his actions pressed upon him even more heavily.
"I'll be willing to reduce it to two if you were to write an article about you apologizing that what you have written is nothing but lies," Napoleon offered. "Of course, the damage is done and some may not believe what you say because you were told to by the Emperor of France. I guess I'll have to get help from the judges in the competition."
Gul Bureau nodded vigorously, his face pale but hopeful. "Yes, Your Majesty, I will do as you say."
"Now, Fouche, bring me the owner of the newspaper that published his article," Napoleon ordered.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Fouche replied with a nod and left the room to carry out Napoleon's command.
A short while later, the door to the interrogation room swung open, and Henri Laurent was escorted in by Minister Fouche. Laurent, a middle-aged man with a well-groomed beard, looked nervously at the Emperor and Gul Bureau.
Napoleon wasted no time. "Mr. Laurent, I trust you are aware of the slanderous article published in your newspaper, targeting my daughter and impugning her reputation."
Laurent stammered, "Your Majesty, I-I assure you, I had no knowledge of the article before it was published. Le Monde Parisien is run independently by its editorial team. I had no involvement in the content."
Napoleon's gaze remained intense as he responded, "Mr. Laurent, whether or not you had direct involvement, the fact remains that it was published under your newspaper's banner, and you bear responsibility. Slanderous accusations have consequences, and I will not tolerate such attacks on my family's honor."
"What's going to happen then, Your Majesty?" Laurent inquired, though he probably knew what was going to happen.
"Your company will be suspended for six months during which time it will be closely monitored by the authorities. Your editorial team will need to undergo thorough scrutiny, and your newspaper's practices will be subject to strict oversight," Napoleon declared firmly.
Laurent's face paled further upon hearing this. A six-month suspension and intense scrutiny of his newspaper's operations would undoubtedly have a significant impact on his business and reputation."
Napoleon continued, "During this period, your newspaper must issue a public apology for the slanderous article and take corrective measures to rectify the damage done to my daughter's reputation. Once the suspension is lifted, your publication may resume, but under strict adherence to the ethical standards of journalism."
"I think I should write laws to govern the press more clearly," Napoleon mused aloud. "Fouche, I'm done here. Process their sentences accordingly, and ensure that the necessary measures are taken to address this matter," Napoleon instructed Fouche.
Fouche nodded and promptly organized for the proper paperwork and procedures to be followed. Gul Bureau and Henri Laurent would each have their sentences carried out as agreed upon, and Le Monde Parisien would face its suspension and oversight.
***
Three hours later. At the Palace of Versailles.
"Come on sister, Why are you still sad?" Francis said as he tried cheering up her sister, Aveline. "Father said he is going to take care of it and he is probably on his way back from the headquarters of the Minister of Police."
"Brother, I'm not in the mood. And why are you still inside my bedroom? Don't you have a book to read?"
"I do, but if my sister is sad like this, I don't think I can read a book. I need you to smile for me first. As your brother, it's my duty to make you happy. So smile now…smile!"
Francis urged as he pulled the corners of her lips gently.
"Fine, fine," Aveline caved and smiled. "Does that make you happy?"
"You look beautiful when you smile, sister," Francis replied.
"Nugh…what are you saying all of a sudden? Dummy," Aveline bashfully said.
"Why are you blushing?"
"Because you never said those words to me before," Aveline confessed.
"Oh?" Francis gasped softly. "Well even if you are sad, you are still beautiful, but when you smile, you'll be more beautiful than the brightest star in the sky," Francis said genuinely.
Aveline's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, but a genuine smile played on her lips. She gently pushed her brother away, pretending to be annoyed.
"Moah…enough."
Suddenly, Napoleon arrived in Aveline's bedroom.
"Papa," Aveline uttered.
"What's happened, father?" Francis asked. "Is it done?"
Napoleon nodded. "Yes. In a day or two, an article will be published where the journalist and the newspaper company will apologize to Aveline."
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