Six days later, on the 12th of Vendémiaire, as the sun began its descent below the horizon, Napoleon and Ciela found themselves standing side by side in the gentle embrace of their children's bedroom. The day had come to an end, casting a soft golden light that danced upon the walls, creating an enchanting ambiance.
As the room grew dim, their eyes were drawn to the two tiny figures nestled peacefully in their cribs. The flickering candlelight illuminated the innocence and purity that radiated from their slumbering forms. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by a profound sense of awe and wonder.
Ciela's voice, barely a whisper, broke the serene silence. "Oh, aren't they so cute?"
Napoleon, his gaze fixed upon their children, couldn't help but let a gentle smile grace his lips.
"Yes, my love," he replied softly, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and contentment. "They are more than I could have ever imagined."
Ciela stepped closer to the cribs, her fingertips gently brushing against the soft fabric that enveloped their precious bundles.
Seconds later, there was a knock on the door, interrupting the two parents lost in their reverie. Napoleon and Ciela exchanged a surprised glance before Ciela moved toward the door.
As she opened the door, a familiar face greeted her. "Monsieur Beaumont, what can I do for you?"
"Madame. Bonaparte, there are army soldiers outside the gates looking for Monsieur Bonaparte," Beaumont announced, glancing at Napoleon whose face immediately turned serious.
Ciela realized why there were soldiers looking for her husband. It was today, or more specifically, later. The 13th of Vendémiaire marks a significant event in Napoleon's history—the 13th Vendémiaire uprising. Though it is too early to assume as history already deviated from her original history.
"Did they state their intentions?" Ciela asked.
Beaumont shook his head. "Unfortunately, they'll only talk to Monsieur Bonaparte."
"It's okay Ciela," Napoleon stepped forward. "I'll go meet them and find out what they want."
Ciela looked into Napoleon's eyes, concern etched on her face. "Okay, I'll stay here with
the children."
With that, Beaumont escorted Napoleon out of the room and into the chateau's gate, and there he saw a group of soldiers from the French Army mounted on a horse.
As Napoleon and Beaumont arrived at the gate, one of the soldiers spoke.
"Are you Brigadier-General Napoleon Bonaparte?"
"Indeed I am," Napoleon confirmed, nodding his head. "What do you want?"
"We have orders from the National Convention," the soldier continued, his voice firm and authoritative. "You are hereby recalled to active service due to the imminent threat of a royalist uprising in Paris. This is the official letter written by the president of the National Convention, summoning you to Paris."
Beaumont received the letter and handed it to Napoleon who quickly unfurled the parchment, his eyes scanning the words written within.
"Understood, I accept the call of duty. But first, let me bid farewell to my family," Napoleon finished his sentence with a determined yet gentle tone. He glanced back at the chateau, where his beloved wife and their precious children awaited him.
The soldier nodded respectfully, understanding the significance of family and duty. "Of course, General Bonaparte. Please take the time you need. We shall wait here."
Napoleon quickly returned to the chateau where he informed Ciela of the news.
"I see, they are calling you. Very well, I will look after the children," Ciela replied, holding Napoleon's hand tightly.
Napoleon leaned in and kissed Ciela's forehead. "Thank you, my love. I'll go switch to my uniform now."
Napoleon hurriedly made his way to their bedroom, where his uniform lay neatly folded on a chair.
Napoleon stood in front of the chair, his gaze fixed upon the uniform that represented his duty, his country, and the path that destiny had carved for him. With reverence, he reached out and picked up the familiar fabric. He then wore the uniform, buttoning the jacket, adjusting the cuffs, and straightening his epaulets.
Stepping back, Napoleon looked at himself in the mirror. It had been a year since he last wore his military uniform. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered the battles he had fought. Back then, it was the Allied forces, now it was the people of France themselves.
He picked up the tricorn hat that rested on the dresser and placed it on his head, completing his uniform.
After that, he made his way back to the room where Ciela and their babies waited. As he entered the room, he found Ciela standing by the crib, her gaze fixed on their sleeping children. She noticed Napoleon's presence and turned to face him.
"You look every bit the general," Ciela said, chuckling.
"I have to go now," Napoleon said solemnly. He moved closer to Ciela, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek once more.
"I know, my love. Duty calls, and you must answer. But please, promise me that you will take care of yourself. Promise me that you will come back to us. I may have known your future but this isn't my world."
"Don't worry, I'll return as soon as I finish the job," Napoleon swore and then flickered his gaze to their children. He leaned over to plant a soft kiss on each of his children's foreheads, their innocent faces stirring.
Satisfied, Napoleon left the chateau. Outside, Beaumont open the iron gates, and Napoleon mounted the horse that was waiting for him. Before heading out, Napoleon turned around and looked at Beaumont.
"Watch over them for me."
Beaumont nodded, his expression was solemn. "You have my word, General. Your family will be well protected in your absence."
With a final nod of gratitude, Napoleon spurred his horse forward, joining the soldiers who awaited him. The small group rode out of the chateau grounds, their steeds galloping towards the path that led to Paris.
Two hours later, Napoleon and the soldiers who accompanied him reached the outskirts of Paris. As they made their way through the streets, Napoleon couldn't help but notice the absence of people. The usually bustling city seemed eerily quiet as if it were holding its breath in anticipation of the events to come.
Finally, they arrived at the headquarters of the National Convention, the Tuileries Palace. There, soldiers guarded the entrance, their stern gazes fixed upon Napoleon as he dismounted his horse and approached the building.
He was escorted to the chamber where military personnel had gathered, discussing the unfolding situation and formulating strategies to counter the royalist uprising.
One of the men in the chamber noticed Napoleon's arrival and called him.
"Are you Brigadier-General Napoleon Bonaparte?"
"I am," Napoleon confirmed. "Who might you be?"
"I'm Paul Barras, the commander of the troops for the defense of the chateaus de Tuileries."
"Enchanté, General Barras. So, have you already come up with a plan?"
Barras shook his head. "As of now, we haven't. The number of the royalists is 25,000 and they are gathering in the Le Peletier and Saint-Roch sections of Paris. I was hoping that you could lend your expertise and leadership to our efforts."
Napoleon nodded, his mind already racing with ideas and potential strategies. He knew every action the royalist would take as he had read it from his system.
"I'll accept the offer but under the condition that I am granted the freedom of movement," Napoleon stated firmly, his eyes fixed on General Barras.
General Barras paused for a moment, considering Napoleon's request. It was his initial plan to begin. He had never held command since 1783 and his confidence was low. In contrast to Napoleon, who had won decisive battles in Toulon and in Saorgio. He knew that Napoleon was the perfect candidate to lead the defense against the royalist uprising.
"Very well, I will appoint you as the chief-of-staff of the defense forces," General Barras declared. "You shall have the authority and freedom to act accordingly."
Napoleon nodded his head and walked forward. "Let's get to work then."
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