August 20th, 1814. At the Tuileris Palace.
Napoleon II was in session with his tutors in his study hall when Napoleon I abruptly entered.
The Imperial Tutors imdiately bowed their heads in reverence and Napoleon II simply stood up and faced his father.
"Father? What are you doing here?"
"My son, can I borrow you for a mont? I need to speak with you," Napoleon I said.
"Is it serious?" Napoleon II asked.
"No it is not, I just need you. There are people that I want you to see," Napoleon answered.
People that Napoleon I wanted him to see? He wondered who those people might be. Well, based on the tone of his voice, it sounded important. He faced the tutors that were waiting patiently for their conversation.
"Looks like we’ll have to dismiss the session for now. Let’s see each other tomorrow," Napoleon II said.
"As you wish, Your Highness," the tutors intoned.
Napoleon II left the room and followed Napoleon I. They walked along the hallways, leading to his father’s room.
"Father, who might those people whom you wanted to see?"
"You’ll have your answer once we arrive," Napoleon replied.
They stopped before the double doors of the Emperor’s private study. Two guards stood aside without announcent. Napoleon pushed the door open himself.
The room was already occupied.
Several n stood gathered near the long table by the windows, papers and instrunts spread out in careful disorder. None wore military uniforms. Their coats were plain, their hands stained with ink, chalk, or tal polish. These were not courtiers.
Conversation died the instant Napoleon entered. Every man straightened. Hats were removed. Heads bowed.
"Sire," they said in near unison.
Napoleon raised a hand. "Enough. You are not here for ."
He rested his palm lightly on his son’s shoulder.
"You are here for him."
Napoleon II looked up, surprised.
"These gentlen," Napoleon continued, "are among the finest minds France possesses. I have summoned them not rely to advise , but to et you."
He gestured to the man nearest the window.
"Gaspard Riche de Prony," Napoleon said. "Engineer. Director of the École des Ponts et Chaussées. He has built bridges, canals, and chanical systems that still stand after armies pass through them."
De Prony inclined his head. His hair was gray at the temples.
"Your Highness."
Napoleon II inclined his head politely.
Napoleon moved on.
"Claude-Louis Berthollet," he said. "Chemist. He worked on gunpowder during the Revolution. Now he focuses on dyes, acids, and industrial bleaching."
Berthollet bowed slightly.
"It’s a pleasure to et you sir," Napoleon II greeted.
"Likewise, Your Highness."
Next, Napoleon gestured to a man with thick forearms and burn scars along his wrists.
"Jean-Pierre Delaunay," Napoleon said. "Master tallurgist. Oversees ironworks in Lorraine."
Delaunay bowed stiffly.
"A pleasure to et you," Napoleon II said.
The next man was younger, sharp-eyed, oil-stained.
"Antoine Lefèvre," Napoleon said. "chanical fabricator. Builds presses and milling equipnt for workshops in Paris."
Lefèvre bowed quickly.
So that’s all of them. He must admit, Napoleon II or Albert himself doesn’t know about those n Napoleon had introduced. But it doesn’t matter. He understood the purpose of his father calling them here, and that is to prove the theoretical knowledge that he has from the future. It’s kind of like a test, and he won’t back down.
Napoleon finally withdrew his hand from his son’s shoulder.
"You see now," he said quietly, "why I brought you here."
"Yes father, although I didn’t expect that you would make a move so quickly."
"Well I want to see your talents my son. Those n I introduced would be your hands."
"In that case, I’ll look forward to their help. I’m sure they too don’t know why they were eting a child right?"
"You’re right. It made them question the purpose of the summons but they’ll understand it later once you talk to them."
"Requesting permission to speak, Your Majesty," Lefèvre asked.
"Granted."
"Why are we eting His Highness, your son, Your Majesty?"
"That’s because my son is a genius and I need your help to do things for him," Napoleon simply explained.
"And what could he possibly have Sire?" Delaunay chid in a respectful tone. "He is but a child, Sire."
"Well, you’ll know soon enough."
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