They were still in the private room of the Chateau, and continued their chats.
"You have shown the potential of the army, but I haven’t yet seen the ships of our navy. I really hope that in a decade of improvents, refurbishnts, and modernization of our shipyards, that I could see the..." Napoleon I looked back as if being wary of others hearing their conversation. Satisfied that there was none, he continued. "The future ships."
"Father," Napoleon II laughed, even patting him on the shoulder. "You are so impatient, ships like those take years to build but if you are so eager, perhaps you can clear your agenda for this day and after so we can visit one of the shipyards that will build the future ships."
Napoleon I sighed. "Fine, I don’t have much important thing to do in the afternoon anyways."
"It’s great to hear that father. Though I’ll have to inform my wife first. That this trip would take longer than anticipated."
"You do that, I’ll inform your mother too," Napoleon I said.
"Okay," Napoleon II clapped his hand and turned his head to the door. He called loudly. "Charles!"
Promptly, Chales-Louis entered the room.
"Your Imperial Majesties," Charles bowed.
"So this is my nephew, Charles-Louis," Napoleon I said as he scanned him. "You are the secretary to the Emperor of France."
"Yes, your Imperial Maje..."
"Don’t be too formal, I’m your uncle, so drop the formality."
"If that is what you wish, uncle. Yes, I am the new secretary for the Emperor of France, His Imperial Majesty, Napoleon II."
"Charles..." Napoleon II called, turning his attention to him. "We will go to Brest."
"Brest?" Charles repeated. "But Your Imperial Majesty, the trip there is going to take 12 to 14 hours. And we are not prepared for that long trip. The royal locomotive," Charles continued carefully, "is currently in the Versailles rail yard, sire. It’s not staged for imdiate departure. We would need to send word ahead, assemble the crew, prepare the carriage set, inspect the line... that alone would take several hours."
Napoleon I glanced between them. "Several hours?" he repeated.
"At minimum," Charles said. "Security detachnts would also need to be positioned along the route. Brest is not a short excursion. The line must be cleared, signaling coordinated, fueling arranged at interdiate stations—"
Napoleon II raised a hand, cutting him off.
"I understand," he said. "But this is a sudden decision."
Charles hesitated. "Yes, sire. Which is exactly why—"
"We move now," Napoleon II said.
Charles blinked once. "Now... as in imdiately, Your Imperial Majesty?"
"Yes," Napoleon II replied. "Send the order to Versailles. Have the locomotive prepared for imperial departure. Full priority clearance on the line."
"That would require rerouting civilian traffic," he said. "Station masters would need to—Your Imperial Majesty, this is not sothing you can decide on the spur of the mont. There are protocols."
Napoleon II looked at his father and tutted his tongue.
"You know what, how about setting it tomorrow then?" Napoleon I suggested. "I didn’t know it was that strict and a hassle."
"That’s also fine for ," Napoleon II said before turning to Charles.
"That should be doable, right?" Napoleon II finished.
Charles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," he said. "If we schedule for tomorrow, I can have the locomotive staged overnight. Full inspection, crew rotation, security detail, and advance notice to every station along the route. Civilian traffic can be adjusted without disruption."
Napoleon I nodded once. "That sounds more reasonable."
Napoleon II folded his arms. "What ti can we depart?"
"If we begin preparations imdiately," Charles replied, already thinking ahead, "we can have the train ready by early morning. Six o’clock departure would give us a clean line westbound."
"Six it is."
***
A day later, in the Gare de l’Ouest. Napoleon I and II were already on the station platform, waiting for the train to arrive. It won’t be just them visiting Brest, their wives were coming as well.
Elisabeth’s arms were wrapped around Napoleon II while Marie Louise stood beside Napoleon I.
The royal locomotive was rolling in.
It erged from the morning mist with a steady chanical rhythm. The polished brass fittings caught the platform lights. The imperial crest was mounted at the front, indicating that it was for the Imperial Family.
The train slowed with a long hiss of steam.
Station guards snapped to attention. Rail staff stepped back in unison as the locomotive ca to a controlled stop directly in front of the imperial party.
Charles-Louis approached at a brisk pace, hat tucked under his arm.
"Your Imperial Majesties," he said, bowing quickly. "The line has been cleared westbound. Crew is briefed. Security wagons are in position front and rear. We’re ready for boarding."
Napoleon II nodded. "Good work."
They boarded the train and inside, it was like the Palace of Versailles. Gilded walls, luxurious furniture and carpets, thick drapes framing the windows, and polished wood paneling. All of the designs spoke of wealth.
Napoleon I nodded in satisfaction. "So, where is our car?"
"Your car would be in the forward saloon, sire," Charles replied, gesturing down the corridor. "We’ve arranged the compartnts so both Imperial Majesties have adjoining rooms. The Empresses are just across from you. The central car is reserved for dining and briefings."
Napoleon I gave an approving grunt.
A uniford steward slid open an interior door. The passageway beyond was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, carpeted to dampen the vibration of the rails. Brass lamps swayed slightly overhead as the locomotive vented another hiss of steam.
Napoleon II guided Elisabeth forward with a light touch at her back. Marie Louise followed with Napoleon I, who ran a hand along the polished paneling as they walked.
They reached the forward saloon. The steward opened the door.
Inside, the space was arranged like a private sitting room. A long bench wrapped around a low table fixed to the floor. Writing desks folded neatly against the wall. Secured cabinets held maps and travel docunts. The windows were thick, designed to reduce noise while still offering a clear view of the countryside.
Elisabeth eased herself into a seat. "This is... surprisingly quiet."
"You’ll appreciate that in a few hours," Napoleon II replied.
Outside, a whistle cut through the platform air.
Charles stepped into the doorway. "Departure in thirty seconds, sire."
Napoleon I took his seat opposite his son. Marie Louise settled beside him, folding her gloves neatly in her lap.
The carriage jolted. Then the motion smoothed out as the locomotive pulled the imperial train forward.
Through the window, the station began to slide away. Guards held their salute until the platform vanished from view. The iron frawork of the Gare receded into the morning haze.
Napoleon I leaned slightly toward the glass, watching Paris peel back into warehouses, yards, and finally open fields. They are onwards to Brest.
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