Reincarnated as Napoleon

"Don't move! Stay where you are!" One of the soldiers who entered the room yelled an order as he trained his muskets at the individuals involved in the conspiracy. T

Nikolay Zubov, the orchestrator of the clandestine meeting, slowly raised his hands in surrender. The gravity of the situation had hit them like a cannonball. Their grand plan, their ambitions, all now teetered on the edge of disaster.

Complying with the command, the others lifted their hands, eyes darting nervously between each other. In the midst of their uncertainty, one couldn't help but wonder who had betrayed their cause.

"What's the meaning of this?!" Charles, who didn't lift his hand, demanded with a furious tone.

"Charles Whitworth, Ambassador to the Russian Empire of the United Kingdom," the soldier's voice was brusque, "you are to raise your hands up. We are arresting all of you for conspiracy."

Charles protested vehemently, his voice growing louder, "This is outrageous! You cannot apprehend me – I am a foreign diplomat, I hold diplomatic immunity!"

But before the situation could escalate further, a commanding figure strode into the room, his presence exuding authority. It was Alexei.

Alexei's gaze swept across the room, his eyes cool and calculating as he assessed the tableau before him. His silence carried a weight that words could never quite match.

"You're mistaken, Charles Whitworth," Alexei said. "Diplomatic immunity does not provide cover for those who conspire against the state. Furthermore, the implication that a diplomat from the United Kingdom is embroiled in a plot to assassinate the Emperor raises questions about the potential involvement of the United Kingdom itself."

Charles blanched, the implications of Alexei's words hitting him like a sucker punch. And what's more, the man was right, if the British diplomat were involved in the conspiracy, it would mean a potential diplomatic crisis between the Russian Empire and the United Kingdom.

Alexei's gaze shifted to the others, his eyes scanning each individual in turn. Disappointment etched across his features as he took in the familiar faces, now marred by the reality of their actions. He had held onto a sliver of hope that perhaps the information received from the First Consul's sources was mistaken. But the signal from the spies eavesdropping outside had confirmed the unimaginable.

"As previously mentioned by my soldier here, you are all under arrest for conspiring to assassinate the Emperor. Soldiers, take them away," Alexei's voice held an air of finality, leaving no room for argument.

"Yes sir!" The soldiers behind Alexei moved

The soldiers behind Alexei moved, surrounding the conspirators promptly. Each conspirator found themselves flanked by stern-faced soldiers that can't seem to sway.

And then—they were escorted out of the estate, along with the manservants, maids, and other household staff working in the palace whom Alexei believed were in league with the conspirators.

Outside the estate, the conspirators, now with defeated expressions, found themselves walking towards a carriage that would transport them to who knows where. They knew the consequences if one were found guilty of treason. Death.

But just before they could board the carriage, the soldiers escorting them halted in place. The conspirators frowned, wondering what could be the cause of the delay. They looked around and there, an unexpected individual made an appearance.

Their eyes widened in terror as the unforeseen individual stepped into view. It was none other than Emperor Paul I himself. His presence sent shivers down their spines, a living embodiment of their impending doom.

Emperor Paul's expression was inscrutable, a mix of disappointment, anger, and something darker that sent a chill through the conspirators' veins. His gaze swept over them, and each felt as though he could see right through their facade of innocence.

"You thought you could undermine me, plot against me?" Emperor Paul's voice was like ice, his tone cutting through the air with razor-sharp precision. "You dared to plan my assassination within my own walls? HOW DARE YOU!"

The conspirators froze in fear at the thunderous voice of the Emperor. It was so unrelenting, so unrestrained. The fa?ade of regal calm they were accustomed to was shattered, revealing a raw and furious intensity that they had never imagined.

"I'll see to it that you will die for your treacherous deeds," Emperor Paul's words slashed through the air like a whip.

Nikolay Zubov, found his voice quivering as he managed to utter a shaky response, "Your Majesty, we... we never intended—"

"Silence!" Emperor Paul's command was a dagger that cut short Zubov's feeble attempt at explanation. "You are the mastermind of the plot huh? In that case, I will reward you."

"Reward me?" Nikolay Zubov's voice trembled as he stammered out the words.

"Yes, a reward," he replied, his tone dripping with bitter irony. "A reward fitting for a traitor who dared to scheme against his own ruler."

After saying that, his gaze flickered to the officers he had dismissed, and then to Charles, who couldn't even gaze at him.

"Ashamed of yourself, Mr. Ambassador?" Paul asked in English. "You must be thinking about what will happen in the future. What action might the Russian Empire take or something like that?"

Charles remained silent. He doesn't need to be reminded of the potential political fallout this situation could bring to the United Kingdom.

Emperor Paul's lips curled into a cynical smile. "Let me share with you one thing that is certain, the Russian Empire will now aid the Republic of France in its war against the United Kingdom. Your involvement is enough justification to make this decision," he paused, looking towards Alexei. "Alexei!"

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty?" Alexei asked promptly.

"Inform France about my decision, and tell the United Kingdom that we will be declaring war in support of the French Republic," Paul said sharply.

Alexei nodded, "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. I will relay your message immediately."

Charles's face turned ashen as Emperor Paul's words bore down on him. The enormity of their situation was becoming painfully clear, and he comprehended the disastrous fallout their reckless scheme had unleashed. The prospect of an impending war between the Russian Empire and the United Kingdom was now a chilling reality.

***

A day later, in Paris. Napoleon was in his office, reading the letter of Pope Pius VII. A smile spread across his face as he read that the Pope accepted his invitation to come to Paris and discuss returning the church to France.

Beaumont entered his office. "Your Excellency, the Minister of Foreign Affairs!"

Upon announcing that, Talleyrand entered his office. "Your Excellency, I have news for you."

"Is it the response from the member-states of the Second League of Armed Neutrality?" Napoleon ventured, his attention still riveted on the letter.

Talleyrand shook his head. "No, Your Excellency, something even more significant. The Russians have sent us a telegraph, stating their intention to join our war against the United Kingdom."

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