Archduke Karl was awakened by the strong smell of sulfur.
The pungent smell made him want to cough, but he found a roll of cowhide stuffed in his mouth, his hands and feet bound, even breathing was strenuous.
Outside the house came whispers, "Those cowardly and foolish Prussians, surrendered when faced with a mere ten thousand French Army!"
"These fools could have retreated to East Prussia and held the line, the Allied Forces would soon have come to reinforce them."
"Now our northern side has become unsafe…"
"Hmph, General Milius is on his way to Berlin; he may capture it in a few days."
"Let's hope so, the soldiers are all talking about it now…"
Archduke Karl was not surprised by his state, as he had suffered from epilepsy since childhood, and would always find himself tied to a bed with a sulfur vapor treatment upon waking.
The doctor waiting beside him noticed the commotion and hurried to the bedside, bending over to ask, "Your Highness, you're awake?"
