September 5, 1849.
The sumr’s scorching heat heralded the final "offensive," with the blazing sun unleashing its heat rcilessly across the land, making the sunlit soil gradually hot and parched.
Despite the drowsiness-inducing temperature, there was a group of people beside the Tours Railway Station in the Indre-et-Loire Province of central-western France. They were dressed in appropriate black suits and tall top hats, standing under the blazing sun at the station, gazing north along the railway line into the distance.
Even though their white linings were soaked with sweat, lips dry, and perspiration on their foreheads incessantly trickled from the top of their heads down their cheeks, forcing them to repeatedly wipe with pure white handkerchiefs, which also got soaked from the constant wiping, they refused to leave.
Until the distant rumbling of the steam train approached, and soon a train erged from the distant horizon, gradually heading toward Tours Railway Station.
The gentlen standing at the Tours Railway Station finally revealed a smile of relief.
After waiting for more than an hour, they had finally seen this train from the north, though it was yet uncertain if the person on it was the "distinguished guest" they were awaiting.
"Quick! Line up! Line up!" commanded a middle-aged man with graying hair, gray attire, and several Legion of Honor and Knight’s dals on his chest (rumor had it that he bought these Legion of Honor dals from so elderly n who had served the Emperor), giving him an inexplicable air of authority with his broad forehead and aquiline nose.
Under this middle-aged man’s direction and deploynt, the gentlen ford into three rows, each with 10 people creating a formation. Beside them was a band in Imperial Army Uniforms, consisting of brass drums, trumpets, and clarinets. God only knew where they obtained so many Imperial Army Uniforms.
Along the iron railings on both sides, mbers of the National Guard in their uniforms carrying a variety of muzzle-loaded rifles were in charge of maintaining order at Tours Railway Station.
[Since everything for the National Guard had to be self-funded, their arms were allocated based on personal financial capacity. Those with more money had the MTL1842 standard French Army rifles, while the poorer ones had the widely produced Charleville 1777, said to number 700,000 units.]
"Get the band ready! Follow my command! As soon as soone disembarks, start playing! Also, flag bearers, be prepared, and follow my hand signals to raise the flags at any mont!" The middle-aged man, still uneasy about the band, reminded them again.
"Mayor De Reina, you can rest assured! The young lads I’ve hired have perford many tis; this ti, they won’t make a mistake!" The band leader, holding a clarinet in his right hand, thumped his chest to guarantee to the middle-aged man, Mayor De Reina, and then, with a rchant’s crafty expression, whispered to Mayor De Reina, "Mr. Mayor, you see, it’s not easy for my lads to stand here, so could you..."
The band leader rubbed his hands, his eyes filled with cunning and greed, with an "I’ve got you" deanor.
At the ntion of money, Mayor De Reina’s face imdiately fell, and he grabbed the band leader’s arm, bringing him to a clearing 10 ters from the formation, and lowering his voice, he said, "Didn’t we already agree? A performance fee of 300 francs per event! How can you raise the price arbitrarily?"
The band leader displayed a rustic cunning, feigning distress and displeasure, complaining, "But Mr. Mayor, 300 francs per performance is the rate at the Opera House! My band and I have been standing here for almost an hour; it must at least be this amount!"
The band leader opened his left palm, making the aning clear.
"Damn it, 500 francs! Are you all reincarnations of vampires? At that price, I could hire a better band from Tours!" Mayor De Reina kept his voice down and stretched his words.
"Mr. Mayor, we are the only ones here now!" The band leader kept insisting on the 500-franc price while pointing at the train that was getting closer, shouting, "Look, the train is coming; Mr. Mayor, you have to make a choice now!"
Mayor De Reina hesitated for a mont, gritting his teeth and said, "You greedy bastard! Alright, you win! I’ll give you the remaining money after the performance!"
"Thank you! Generous Mr. Mayor! May God bless you!" The band leader instantly bead with joy.
"Rember!" Mayor De Reina said viciously to the band leader, "If you ss up the welco ceremony, don’t expect to see the rest of the money!"
"Of course, Mr. Mayor!" The band leader assured Mayor De Reina with a chest thump, "I guarantee every franc of yours will be worth it!"
If only I had spent a bit more to hire the best band in Tours!
Mayor De Reina regretted his initial decision internally but then consoled himself that it wasn’t necessary to fuss with a group of uncouth people.
The most important thing now was to handle the current situation; he had to "fight this battle" well to pave the way for his future requests.
As the steam locomotive approached Tours Railway Station, it finally began to decelerate, with a strong buzzing sound emitted from the wheels and tracks, and sparks from the brakes scattered along the rails.
When the front of the steam train exited the station, the train finally ca to a complete stop.
The three red carriages hanging behind the steam locomotive opened in succession, and soldiers in blue and white Imperial Army uniforms disembarked from the carriages first.
Holding their MTL1842 muzzle-loaded rifles, so of them imdiately pointed their guns at the crowd led by Mayor De Reina, while others sprinted to the National Guard and completely took control of the force ant to safeguard Tours Railway Station.
The sudden change left Mayor De Reina and everyone present taken aback.
Until a slightly balding soldier erged from the carriage, he scanned everyone at the Tours Railway Station with a sharp gaze and said in a voice as loud as a bell: "I am Colonel Conrobel, the President’s Aide. What do you intend by gathering at the Tours Railway Station? Are you planning to assassinate the President?"
Conrobel’s eyes carried a certain ferocity, and everyone present believed that if their response did not satisfy this President’s Aide, their only fate would be death.
"Misunderstanding! Misunderstanding!" Realizing the situation, De Reina shouted while trying to walk towards Conrobel.
Before Mayor De Reina could reach Colonel Conrobel, a soldier blocked his path with a front-loading gun, the bayonet almost stabbing Mayor De Reina.
Mayor De Reina hastily raised his hands and sincerely explained: "I am Mayor De Reina of Tours City, and I ca here with the Tours City Hall to pay respects to Mr. President, with no intention of harming him!"
"Who are those people?" Conrobel asked, pointing at the controlled National Guard.
"They are specially tasked with ensuring the President’s safety in Tours!" De Reina said with a sowhat embarrassed expression, internally blaming the National Guard for being more of a hindrance than help.
"Them? Protect His Majesty the President?" The soldier with the bayonet pointed at Mayor De Reina’s chest said disdainfully, "Don’t make laugh! They should first learn to protect themselves!"
With that, all the soldiers present laughed heartily.
The controlled National Guard displayed feelings of sha, anger, and even resentnt.
The soldiers’ unrestrained mockery made Mr. De Reina even more embarrassed.
As the chief administrative officer of Tours City, he also held the task of training the National Guard.
Since becoming mayor, De Reina had been focused on disciplining the National Guard, transforming them from their previous lax state into their current form. Though they couldn’t compare to the Paris National Guard, they were at least capable of handling daily security. It was a political achievent that Mayor De Reina was most proud of.
Today, this achievent was ruthlessly shattered by the guard under Colonel Conrobel’s command.
Of course, if Mayor De Reina had known that the guards before him once belonged to the Zuav Corps, fad for their ferocity in Algeria before taking on guard duties, he might have felt more balanced—after all, a unit that gained a fearso reputation in Algeria couldn’t be compared with the dostic National Guard.
"Quiet!" Conrobel shouted loudly and then waved his hand.
Following Conrobel’s order, the President’s Guard lowered their guns and ford two lines in front of the second carriage.
Jero Bonaparte, dressed in a breathable linen overcoat, with white tight-fitting trousers and long breezy boots, appeared before everyone.
For a mont, everyone present was stunned, even the band leader forgot to play and murmured, "The Emperor’s...nephew?"
De Reina was the first to snap out of his stupor and hurriedly called out, "Quick! Play the music! Play the music!"
The flustered band leader haphazardly started playing, and the Marseillaise, ant to be grand and vigorous, was perford in a broken manner due to the rush.
The Eagle Flag, symbolic of the Bonaparte Clan, was also unfurled by De Reina.
Jero Bonaparte stood silently on the train, observing all that unfolded on the platform.
"Welco Mr. President to Tours!" Mayor De Reina respectfully said to Jero Bonaparte, who was still standing on the train.
Jero Bonaparte slowly descended from the train, ca up to De Reina, and patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Thank you for your efforts!"
"Not at all! Not at all!" Mayor De Reina responded to Jero Bonaparte with an honest expression.
"Send your people back! Also, send the National Guard back!" Jero Bonaparte pointed to the subordinates and National Guard mbers behind De Reina.
"Yes!" De Reina followed Jero Bonaparte’s suggestion and ordered his subordinates and the National Guard to leave first.
Enduring the heat, the subordinates quickly dispersed after receiving De Reina’s order.
Jero Bonaparte, led by De Reina, formally exited the station and boarded the open double-bridged carriage specially prepared for him by De Reina.
De Reina and Percy sat on either side of Jero Bonaparte, while Conrobel rode a horse, directing the guards to protect the President.
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