Chapter 18 - Chapter 18: The Web is Woven

Early Spring, 1829. Arenenberg Castle, Switzerland.The morning mist had not yet lifted, but Arenenberg Castle was already buzzing with quiet energy. A secret plan for the future of the Empire was unfolding within the ancient walls of what used to be a queen's bedroom.Oak logs crackled in the fireplace, their flames casting a warm glow on Franz's young, determined face. He sat in Queen Hortense's old study, his fingers tracing the names on a faded list. Hortense had given it to him the night before—a record of the Empire's former officers and supporters, men who had once thundered under the golden eagle but were now forgotten or exiled. Each name felt like an ember in the fire, holding a suppressed heat."Public opinion is the first line of any battle," Franz said, his voice calm but firm. "When a nation starts to remember its past glory, it's not long before it tries to reclaim it."He slid a thick envelope toward his cousin, Louis-Napoléon, who sat at the table in a dark blue coat. "You will go to Marseille and Lyon. Under the cover of a 'charitable publishing project,' you'll set up a printing press. Print pamphlets, booklets, and newspapers that tell the stories of the Empire's reforms, its glory, and its order. Awaken the people's hearts.""Besides the writing, you must gather intelligence," Franz continued. "Who is talking about the Empire? Who fears its return? Who can be an ally, and who is an enemy?"Louis took the envelope, a flicker of ambition and resentment crossing his face. He was about to argue, but Franz spoke first. "I know you want more. But no one will follow a silent ghost. The flag can only have a direction once a voice is heard."Louis lowered his head, silent for a moment before saying in a low voice, "I'll get it done."Next, Franz took another sealed letter from his coat. "As for you, Napoléon-Louis," he said, his tone growing more serious, "you have a second mission: you will go to the Saint-Cyr military academy.""A person on our list is crucial—Abel Davout," he said slowly. "He is the grandson of Marshal Davout. He's close to your age, from a noble family, and his blood runs with loyalty and discipline.""I need you to approach him as a friend, earn his trust, guide him, and through him, influence the young officers at the academy. They will be the real backbone of the future Empire."The firelight danced on the letter, making every word feel important.There was a sudden knock on the door. Hortense came in, followed by a middle-aged man in a gray military coat. His face was hard, and his walk was sharp and military. Though he had gray hair at his temples, his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's."This is General Cassian Méril," Hortense introduced softly. "He was your father's deputy at Waterloo. After the war, the Bourbons punished him, and he's been in exile in Switzerland for years. I wrote to him myself, asking him to come."Franz stood up and walked over to the old general. He shook his hand with deep respect. "General, thank you for still being willing to fight for the Empire."Méril's eyes stayed on him. "I fought for Napoleon. Now that his son is willing to raise the flag again, I won't hesitate.""We will set up a secret training camp in the Balkans. I will gather the old soldiers who are scattered everywhere, the ones who haven't given up hope. They will fight for you."Franz nodded. "I will send you the first shipment of weapons and money. From this moment on, you are their commander."Cassian Méril gave a firm nod and turned to leave, the heavy sound of his boots echoing in the firelight.After a moment of silence, Franz rose and looked out the window. In the distance, the shape of France seemed to appear through the morning mist."I must go to France myself."Hortense frowned. "To Paris?""No," he replied, shaking his head. "I will go around Paris and seek out two men directly—General Grouchy and Marshal Soult."He turned to face everyone, his voice as calm and determined as ever. "They are on the sidelines now, but they were once the backbone of the Empire. If they are willing to join us, it will send a message to the entire military."The firelight lit up the names on the list. The web was woven.,