Napoleon and his family were on their way to the Comédie-Française, where Joseph Hadyn's Oratorio was scheduled to take place. They traveled in a carriage, and inside, Napoleon and Ciela couldn't help but glance intermittently at the windows, checking the streets and alleys they passed.
Francis and Aveline, their children, exchanged puzzled glances, wondering why their parents were acting so strangely. Aveline couldn't contain her curiosity any longer and decided to ask.
"Papa," Aveline spoke up, breaking the silence.
Napoleon's attention shifted to Aveline, who had just called him. "Yes, my dear?" he replied, trying to maintain composure.
"Brother and I have noticed that both you and Mama keep looking out of the window. Is something the matter?" Aveline inquired innocently.
Napoleon and Ciela exchanged worried glances. Even though the threat of assassination had been neutralized by Fouche, Napoleon, and Ciela still couldn't be too careful.
Napoleon sighed, trying to put on a reassuring smile for his children. "It's nothing, my dear," he said. "Your mother and I are looking out of the window to see the progress of the construction work that we are passing..."
Napoleon paused for a moment, trying to come up with a believable explanation. He knew that Aveline and Francis were perceptive children and could easily see through any half-hearted response. So, he decided to be honest with them, to a certain extent.
"Your mother and I are looking out of the window to see the progress of the construction work that we are passing," Napoleon finally said. "As leaders of the country, it's essential for us to keep track of the developments and improvements being made in our beloved city. Don't you agree darling?"
Ciela smiled warmly, nodding in agreement with Napoleon's explanation.
"Absolutely, my love," she said.
Aveline and Francis looked reassured by their parents' words.
Napoleon placed a hand on Ciela's back, caressing it affectionately as to try and calm her nerves down. She too was aware that an assassination was about to take place on this date and time, and even after Napoleon had taken care of the conspiracies, Ciela still believes that there are others lurking who will try and harm them.
Ciela rested her head on Napoleon's shoulder, finding comfort in his touch. The concern in her heart was palpable, but she knew that displaying fear in front of their children would only add to their worries.
Just when they thought they might have finally managed to put their worries aside, the carriage suddenly lurched to a stop, jolting everyone inside. The abrupt halt caused Napoleon and Ciela to exchange alarmed glances, their hearts pounding in their chests.
Napoleon instinctively reached out to his holstered pistol while Ciela, reached out to a place where she would have placed her stiletto, but only to realize that she didn't bring any.
"What's happening, Papa?" Aveline asked.Napoleon's mind raced as he listened intently to the sounds outside the carriage. There was a murmur of voices and the shuffling of feet, but it was impossible to determine the cause of the unexpected stop.
"I'm not sure, my dear," Napoleon replied, trying to keep his voice steady. He then opened the window and leaned out to see what was happening. In the distance, he noticed a commotion on the street, and his trained eyes scanned the surroundings for any potential threats. The sight of his commander of the Elite Consular Guard, Bessierres, on his horse, approaching the carriage, brought a measure of relief.
Bessierres quickly rode up to the carriage, acknowledging Napoleon with a nod. "Your Excellency, there has been a minor incident on the road," he said calmly and composed.
Napoleon's heart rate gradually slowed as he listened to Bessierres' explanation. "What happened, Bessierres?" he asked.
"There was a cart ahead of us, Your Excellency, with a broken axle," Bessierres explained. "It caused the unexpected stoppage, but I have already ordered my men to assist in getting it to the side of the road so we can proceed safely."
Napoleon nodded in understanding, appreciating his commander's swift response. "Thank you, Bessierres," he replied and then remembered something.
In the Plot of the rue Saint-Nicaise, the assassination happened with a cart laden with explosives placed strategically on the street. The event being similar is causing him to feel worried.
"Who is the owner of the cart?" Napoleon asked.
"It appears to be a little girl, Your Excellency."
Napoleon's eyes widened. "A girl..?" In the same plot, the conspirators paid a young girl money to have it placed where the convoy was passing by.
ραΠdαsΝοvεl ƈοm "Are you sure it's just a little girl, Bessierres?" Napoleon asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Bessierres nodded. "Yes, Your Excellency. She seems to be a young street vendor, and it appears that her cart's axle simply gave way unexpectedly. It seems like an unfortunate accident."
"Can you get her here?" Napoleon asked.
"Of Your Excellency, one moment," Bessierres swiftly turned his horse and rode back to where the little girl and her cart were.
Moments later, Bessieres returned with the young girl.
Napoleon smiled warmly at the young girl, trying to appear approachable despite his inner turmoil.
"Bonjour, ma petite," he greeted her kindly. "I heard there was a problem with your cart. Are you all right?"
The girl nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oui, Your Excellency. The axle broke, but I'm okay.""May I ask you some questions?" Napoleon asked.
The young girl looked up at Napoleon, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.
"Of course, Your Excellency," she replied softly, clutching her apron tightly.
Napoleon spoke with a gentle tone, trying to put her at ease. "Did anyone approach you or give you anything before the accident happened?"
The girl shook her head, her innocence evident. "No, Your Excellency," she answered honestly. "I was just minding my cart, and then suddenly, the axle broke, and it stopped moving."
"Did you see anyone suspicious near your cart before it broke down?" Napoleon asked again, trying to gather more information.
The girl thought for a moment, frowning slightly as she recalled the events leading up to the accident.
"There were some people passing by on the street," she said. "But I don't remember anyone being acting suspicious."
Napoleon nodded, accepting her answer. "And what's your name?"
"My name is Marianne Peusol, Your Excellency," the girl answered.
Napoleon's eyes widened again after hearing her name. It was the same girl who happened to be the one the conspirators paid. But seeing that she is telling the truth when she told them that no one approached her, he heaved a sigh of relief inwardly.
"I am selling my buns, Your Excellency," Marianne replied softly. "My family owns a small bakery nearby, and I help them by selling the buns in the streets."
"Your Excellency, the carriage has been moved out of the way, we can proceed," Bessierres interrupted.
Napoleon nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you Bessierres."
"Sorry for the inconvenience, Your Excellency," Marianne bowed her head apologetically.
"No need to apologize, my dear," Napoleon said with a warm smile, putting Marianne at ease. "Accidents happen, and it's not your fault. I'm just glad to know that you are safe. You know what? Since it's Christmas Eve, let me buy all of your remaining buns, and give you money to repair the cart."
Marriane's eyes widened with surprise. "Uhm…Your Excellency…you'd do that?"
Napoleon pulled out one thousand francs and handed them to Marianne, who could hardly believe her eyes. Her hands trembled as she accepted the generous sum, feeling both shock and immense gratitude.
"Your Excellency…this is too much," Marianne stammered.
It was too much. 1000 francs is equivalent to 4,500 dollars in today's value.
"Take it, for your family," Napoleon said.
"Thank you…Your Excellency," Marianne bowed her head again.
Napoleon closed the window and settled back into his seat as the carriage started moving again. He was relieved that it was merely an accident and not a sinister plot. He glanced at Ciela, who is also as relieved as him.
"Nothing to worry about my little dears," Napoleon addressed Aveline and Francis. "It was just an accident."