In the dormitory of the Ecole Militaire, Napoleon meticulously changed his ornate and sumptuous clothes into ordinary attire. The celebration of his invention had concluded as he expected, earning him a seat at the prestigious French Academy of Sciences. However, Napoleon's mind was preoccupied with the revelations he had witnessed at the grand celebration hosted by King Louis.
The elaborate gathering showcased the opulence of the aristocracy, with the King and Queen adorned in extravagant jewels and luxurious fabrics. Yet, for Napoleon, the stark contrast between this display of wealth and the poverty and suffering he had seen in the streets of Paris only fueled his growing discontentment.
As he mingled with the nobles in the grand ballroom, the laughter, music, and clinking of crystal glasses seemed to drown out the plight of the common people. The aristocracy danced with grace and elegance, seemingly oblivious to the struggles outside the palace walls. This disconnection from reality troubled Napoleon deeply.
The memory of France's recent harsh winter and the consecutive years of poor harvests lingered in his mind. The kingdom was facing widespread food shortages and soaring prices, pushing the common people further into despair. Napoleon couldn't help but imagine the lives of the impoverished, where a loaf of bread consumed their entire wages. It was clear to him that France was on the brink of revolution, an event for which he needed to be prepared.
In three months' time, Napoleon would face the entrance exam to become an officer. Despite studying at the Ecole Militaire for two years—far less than the typical three-year requirement—he had been granted an exception due to his exceptional academic prowess and burgeoning reputation. In real history, Napoleon was forced to complete a three-year worth course in a year due to Carlo's death, but in this alternate reality, Napoleon didn't suffer the same problem as he had earned a lot of money from his invention.
As he was engrossed in his thoughts, a knock on the door interrupted him. Napoleon turned to look at the door and answered.
"Come in."
The door creaked open slowly, revealing the figure of a young woman framed against the dimly lit hallway. It was Ciela, her presence instantly brightening the room. Her exquisite dress from earlier had been replaced by a simple white gown that framed her slender figure perfectly.
"Master," she said softly. "I have brought you the map that you are asking for."
She sat next to him and unfurled the map of France.
Napoleon grabbed the edges of the map, his eyes scanning the intricate details of the nation.
"Master…what are you looking at if I may ask?" Ciela said.
"The steam locomotive was a success so I'm planning on starting a railway company across France, connecting different cities and regions. Of course, we can't just build in random places, it must hold some significance. For example, the railway must be built near the coal mines and iron deposits to ensure a steady supply of resources for the growing industrialization," Napoleon explained, tracing his finger along the map. "For example, Saint-Étienne, Nord-Pas-de-Calais, and Alsace-Lorraine are regions in France that are abundant of iron and coal."
"I see, but who will fund the construction of those railways? It is a huge undertaking and I don't think your current wealth can construct you one."
Napoleon leaned back, deep in thought. Ciela's question was valid. Funding such a monumental project would indeed require substantial resources beyond what he currently possessed. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the map, contemplating the possibilities.
"You're right, Ciela," Napoleon replied, his voice filled with determination. "To build a railway network that spans the entire country, we'll need the backing of private investors. I believe there are individuals and organizations out there who would recognize the potential of this venture and be willing to invest in it. We already have people who saw the success of the demonstration of the steam locomotive, so we'll start approaching them first. But this is a job that I want you to take care of."
"You want me to handle all the negotiations, Master? But are they going to take me seriously? I'm a woman and they would certainly prefer to speak to you rather than me."
"Well, I trust in your abilities Ciela, you said you came from the modern world right? I'm sure in that world you have gained skills in negotiation. Also, I don't think I would be able to run the company myself as I'll be a military officer stationed outside Paris. Also, you said that you are a high-ranking Spanish nobility, that will make them take you seriously."
"I don't know, master…I'm not comfortable using my old name," Ciela said, her voice somber.
Napoleon furrowed his brows, contemplating Ciela's hesitation. "I understand your concerns. I won't insist on using your old name if it makes you uncomfortable," he said sincerely. "Instead, I have another proposition. I will draft a letter of authorization specifically for you, granting you the authority to represent me in these negotiations. What do you think of that?"
"It's a good idea, master," Ciela looked up to him and smiled.
Napoleon patted Ciela's hand gently, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad you think so, Ciela."
"It's a good idea, master," Ciela murmured softly, her gaze falling to her lap. Her heart raced as Napoleon's hand tenderly caressed her hair, his touch sending a gentle shiver down her spine. She could feel the warmth rising in her cheeks, turning them a deep shade of crimson.
Sensing that Napoleon might remove his hand any sooner, she immediately summoned her courage and placed her other hand on top of his, gently pressing it against her cheek.
"What are you…"
"Master…please spoil me with your touch a little longer," Ciela said, her cheek resting on Napoleon's hand, her voice barely above a whisper.
She closed her eyes and giggled softly as if enjoying the intimacy of the moment.
Napoleon's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. For over the last four years, they have been together, living and growing together, Napoleon just saw Ciela as a tool of his, where he can use her to do his bidding while he is away fighting a war in the future. But in this vulnerable moment, something shifted within Napoleon. Something that he can't explain to himself.
Could it be…
Before he could even answer it to himself, Ciela's eyes fluttered open and she looked deep into Napoleon's eyes.
"Thank you, master, for letting me stay by your side and working for you."
"I think it's time that you don't call me master. Call me like everyone else, Napoleon. I have been letting you call me that because I found it endearing, but things have changed."
Ciela blinked in surprise, her eyes widening at Napoleon's request. She could hardly believe her ears. The familiar formality of addressing him as "Master" had become second nature to her, and the thought of calling him anything else seemed foreign and unfamiliar. But as she gazed into his eyes, she saw a sincerity and tenderness that touched her deeply.
"Okay then, Napoleon. If you want me to call you by your name, I shall oblige."
"And enough with your formal tone, we can speak like we are friends," Napoleon said, his voice filled with warmth and a hint of playfulness.
Ciela smiled, a soft and genuine expression that lit up her face. "If you say so, Napoleon. Oh, by the way, Napoleon. I didn't tell you a lot about my real self but I can happily share something with you a bit. In the 21st century, I'm what people refer to as a Vtuber."
"Vtuber?" Napoleon repeated the word, pretending as if he never heard of that term before.
"That's right, it's a new form of entertainment that exists in the world of the future. Imagine a performer who doesn't need a physical body but can create a lifelike animated version of themselves, known as an avatar. These avatars can speak, sing, and interact with their audience through a marvelous invention called the Internet. They share their performances and content on a platform called YouTube, where people from all over the world can watch and even communicate with them. It's a fascinating way for people to be entertained and feel a connection with these virtual performers, all from the comfort of their own homes."
Napoleon chuckled. "That sounds lovely, but unfortunately I can't imagine it myself. The future must be great."
"But Napoleon, I can give you an exclusive performance. I can do ASMR you know, and my audience back in my world loved it. Want me to try?"
"ASMR?" Napoleon tilted his head to the side.
"Like this…" Ciela went around Napoleon, wrapping her arms around his neck, and leaned forward to his ears. "Master~! Feeling tired~! Want me to comfort you."
Napoleon, despite knowing what ASMR is and having experienced it in his past life from youtube was taken aback at Ciela's.
He could feel her warm breath against his ear, and a tingling sensation spread through his body. The intimacy of the moment sent a surge of emotions rushing through him, ones he had never experienced before. Ciela's voice, soft and soothing like the gentle whisper of a breeze, washed over him, stirring feelings he had only heard about in ASMR videos on youtube.
Ciela moved to his left ear and whispered again. "Master~! Can you feel it? My fingers stroking your cheek…landing on your ear…slowly…slowly stimulating you…" As Ciela's words trailed off, her fingers lightly brushed against Napoleon's cheek. "Do you feel yourself…losing…control?"
Napoleon's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was simultaneously captivated by Ciela's ASMR performance and unnerved by the intensity of his own response. The sensations coursing through his body were foreign and exhilarating, and he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.
As Ciela continued her whispered enticements, Napoleon's resolve wavered. His rational thoughts struggled to maintain control, reminding him of the boundaries they had established and the purpose of their relationship. But the walls he had built around his emotions started to crumble, and a yearning for something deeper began to take hold.
Suddenly, Napoleon turned around, grabbed Ciela's arms, and pushed her into the bed. Startled by Napoleon's sudden movement, Ciela's eyes widened in surprise. She found herself lying on the bed, with Napoleon hovering above her, his intense gaze locked onto hers.
"Napoleon…" Ciela uttered, her lips curved into a seductive style, keeping her seductive role."You let your urges take control of you…Fine. Revel in the bliss of your inevitable pathetic defeat."
"Ciela…you should leave now before I do anything to you," Napoleon
paused, his voice thick with desire. His eyes were fixated on Ciela's lips, and it took all his willpower to not give in to his primal desires.
Ciela's heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at Napoleon, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew that the boundaries they had established were in danger of being broken, but a part of her wanted to surrender to the intensity of the moment.
"Master, I will stay. I want to be with you," Ciela whispered, her voice barely audible.
Napoleon hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. But the desire in Ciela's eyes was too strong to resist. As if yelling inwardly, Napoleon averted his gaze away from Ciela and breathed deeply. He let go of her arm and stepped off the bed.
Napoleon almost lost control in the heat of the moment, but luckily he managed. "Your performance is undoubtedly powerful, Ciela. Is that what you do for a living in the 21st century?"
Ciela's face flustered as she realized what Napoleon was insinuating. "No! This is my first time acting like that, don't get the wrong idea…dummy. I'll leave your room now and let you rest."
Ciela quickly got up from the bed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She hastily straightened her dress and left his room.
In the hall, Ciela covered her already beet-red face and suppressed a squeal of embarrassment. "Napoleon you dummy! Dummy! Dummy! Dummy!"
Well, seconds later, she realized that she was the one that forced Napoleon into the position and led him to believe that she does that every day to her audience, which can be misunderstood by Napoleon that she is a whore.
***
Seven months later, Napoleon was in the examination room of the Ecole Militaire.
"This is it, my destiny," Napoleon muttered under his breath.