December 20, 1848, 7:00 AM.
The continuous drizzle that lasted a day and a night finally ceased at 6 AM on the 20th, the clouds shrouding the sky over Paris dissipated, and the sky began to clear.
Even though Paris was already clear in the depths of winter, a slight chill could still be felt piercing through coats to the bone. To counteract this chill, Parisian middle-class and wealthy rchants added a wool lining to their formal attire. This allowed them to maintain their elegance while adding a bit of warmth.
Since today was Thursday, the people of Paris began another day of their diligent work.
Jero Bonaparte, who was about to preside over Paris and indeed all of France, stood by the window dressed in a black fitted suit, wearing the Legion of Honor and the Great Shoulder Straps, gazing into the distance. The direction he looked was where the Bourbon Palace, which he was soon to visit, was located.
After gazing into the distance for a long ti, Jero Bonaparte rubbed his slightly sore eyes and turned to the desk, where a piece of paper was filled with densely written French. He had rushed to draft an inaugural speech during the first half of the night.
To avoid botching his first inaugural speech, he spent the latter half of the night morizing it thoroughly.
Having stayed up all night, Jero Bonaparte couldn’t help but feel a bit drowsy. However, at this crucial mont, he had to muster his spirit to complete all the steps of the presidential inauguration.
Sitting in the chair, Jero Bonaparte struggled against the invading sleepiness, all the while waiting for the arrival of the inauguration carriage.
His eyelids, as heavy as jacks, gradually descended, and Jero Bonaparte finally could not resist the sleepiness, slipping into a drowsy, semi-conscious state while leaning on the chair.
Suddenly, a rapid knocking and shouting from outside the door woke Jero Bonaparte from his slumber.
Yawning, he glanced at the clock on the wall; it was already 2 PM. He imdiately got up to open the door, where a worried Percy looked at the dispirited Jero Bonaparte before him and said, "Your Majesty, your inauguration ceremony is about to begin!"
"I know!" Jero Bonaparte nodded in response.
The innkeeper, following Percy, easily carried a basin of warm water to Jero Bonaparte and said eagerly, "Mr. President, it’s ti to wash up!"
"Mm!" Jero Bonaparte nodded and, with Percy’s "service," quickly wiped his face.
Revitalized, Jero Bonaparte stood by the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in his cuffs with satisfaction, nodded, and said, "Let’s go!"
Jero Bonaparte went downstairs with Percy.
At this ti, the roads on both sides of the Rhine Inn entrance were already packed with onlookers.
Having heard that the President was at the Rhine Inn, the residents of Paris hoped to et with the new President of France, for they had cast their votes for Bonaparte.
Jero Bonaparte’s appearance caused a stir among the residents on both sides of the road.
"Quiet!" Fleury, responsible for guarding Jero Bonaparte’s safety, shouted loudly and then ordered the soldiers he had borrowed from the Bourbon Palace to maintain order.
Faced with soldiers holding gleaming bayonets, the residents were reminded of the massacre a few months prior, and they quieted down.
The soldiers quickly opened up a road for the carriage.
Standing on the steps, Jero Bonaparte looked at the crowd below and saw curiosity and admiration in their eyes. He cleared his throat, waved his hand, and said, "I, Jero Bonaparte, thank you here for your support. Believe , every vote you gave will bring you tenfold benefits! Please continue to support , and I will bring you victory!"
"Long live Napoleon, we want Napoleon!"
A Bonaparte Party mber in the crowd imdiately shouted.
"Long live Napoleon, we want Napoleon!"
The residents on both sides of the road, led by the Bonaparte Party mbers, also began shouting.
Amid the cheers of the residents, Jero Bonaparte seated himself in the carriage purchased by Fleury from Princess Liyewan.
Percy and Fleury got on the horses in front and behind, while the soldiers protecting the President’s carriage divided into two groups, guarding Jero Bonaparte front and back.
The carriage departed from the Rhine Inn and proceeded unimpeded to the south bank of the Seine River at the Bourbon Palace.
At this mont, the Bourbon Palace was already surrounded by two regints of troops. Sitting in the carriage, Jero Bonaparte learned from the soldiers encircling the carriage that the stationed regints belonged to the Paris First Division, garrisoned here under the orders of General Changarnier.
It seems that those Order Party fellows were also afraid of Cafenak launching a coup, and now they’ve even resorted to using the army.
A smile appeared at the corner of Jero Bonaparte’s mouth as he thought to himself.
Under Jero Bonaparte’s orders, the carriage did not proceed further in but stopped 300 ters from the main gate of the Bourbon Palace.
The soldiers stationed outside the Bourbon Palace noticed the change and, driven by curiosity, looked in the direction of Jero Bonaparte.
Seeing Jero Bonaparte get out of the carriage, Percy and Fleury thought sothing had gone wrong and also dismounted, coming to Jero Bonaparte’s side.
"Your Majesty!" Fleury wanted to remind Jero Bonaparte that the inauguration speech ti was approaching.
"No rush! We still have plenty of ti to walk the last stretch!" Jero Bonaparte raised his hand to stop Fleury; he decided to walk the last portion of the journey on foot.
Percy and Fleury exchanged a glance and showed a helpless expression.
Jero Bonaparte, walking slowly to the soldiers, mimicked the tone he learned from his father about his uncle Napoleon, and said confidently, "Soldiers of the Republic, you have worked hard! You are the heroes of the Republic!"
Jero Bonaparte generously praised the soldiers present, and the soldiers, hearing praise for the first ti, could not stop trembling all over.
Heroes? Such a distant word, so distant that they had only heard it from their fathers!
The soldiers’ eyes carried a hint of fanaticism; in their eyes, Jero Bonaparte was no longer just a person but a symbol, an era.
The nephew of the Emperor had returned, and the glory of the army was set to return too!!
Having given the army a strong dose, Jero Bonaparte pressed forward, shaking the hand of an officer.
The officer, whose hand was held by Jero Bonaparte, also showed an excited expression: "Your Majesty... Your Majesty... I..."
"Do well! Glory, dals, everything you want, I have it all here!" Jero Bonaparte interrupted without waiting for the officer to finish, promising.
The officer swallowed what he was about to say, and Jero Bonaparte moved on to shake the hand of another officer.
Each officer whose hand was shaken showed an equally excited expression, even speaking with so difficulty.
As for the promotion by Cafenak, it was long forgotten by them.
The military’s loyalty could be counted on!
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