#Napoleon Courtyard

[emaadsidiki]

Louvre Pyramid∆ by ∇Ieoh Ming Pei

[illustratus]

A day of review under the Empire, 1810 by Hippolyte Bellangé and Adrien Dauzats

[doze-mag]

Contemporary Deck in Berlin An illustration of a sizable, modern courtyard outdoor kitchen deck design

[typocode]

Contemporary Deck in Berlin An illustration of a sizable, modern courtyard outdoor kitchen deck design

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Adam Jerzy Czartoryski

(admin note: even if you don't vote for him, reading about his life is a wild ride)

Propaganda:

"Decided that the way to free Poland was by having a threesome with Alexander and his wife.”

Lefebvre:

Propaganda:

“Total DILF material, and the fiery passion in his eyes was matched only by his fiery personality! This contest may be based on looks (and Lefebvre is a strong candidate on this metric alone); but it's hard not to fall in love with his spicy takes and saucy language. He told Napoleon, "Let us throw the lawyers into the river” after agreeing to help overthrow the Directory (quoted in David G. Chandler, ed., Napoleon's Marshals), and from his English Wikipedia article: When a friend expressed envy of his estate, Lefebvre said, "Come down in the courtyard, and I'll have ten shots at you with a musket at 30 paces. If I miss, the whole estate is yours." After the friend declined this offer, Lefebvre added, "I had a thousand bullets shot at me from much closer range before I got all this." In response to a clueless young man demanding his identity at a social event, he answered, ''Je viens de la lune, où je n'ai jamais vu un Jean-Foutre de ton espèce: Je m'appelle le Général Lefebvre!” [“I come from the moon, where I’ve never seen such a #*$& as you. My name is General Lefevre!”] Quoted in The Secret History of the Cabinet of Bonaparte by Lewis Goldsmith, 1810, which is also hilarious because the author clearly hates Lefebvre, but makes him sound like a cool badass. He earns additional sexy points by sticking by his ex-washerwoman wife, who had a mouth of her own. (tbh Catherine Lefebvre, “Madame Sans-Gêne,” deserves her own Napoleonic Sexyman [gender neutral] nomination).”

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Mitsuki: "Ah…"

Galileo: "Haah."

His cold fingers dug into my neck, and his hot breath tickled my skin.

His fangs sank deeply, and the pain transformed into pleasure.

(If this continues…)

My consciousness started to fade, and I could hardly resist anymore.

Galileo: "Guh. Haah…"

Mitsuki: *coughs, coughs*

Suddenly, he groaned and let go of my body.

As soon as I collapsed onto the floor, air flowed into my throat, and I took a moment to catch my breath, coughing all the while.

(What just happened?)

When I looked at him, he was also breathing heavily.

Galileo: "Why? Why can't I kill you?"

His eyes, filled with anguish, glared at me.

Galileo: "Could it be that interfering with you affects fate? Is that why I'm being stopped?"

Galileo: "Is that the law of the world?"

Galileo: "Am I forever to be denied by fate?"

Mitsuki: "Galileo."

Not understanding what he was saying, I reached out involuntarily at his pained expression, but he brushed my hand away.

Galileo: "Even if I can't kill you, my goal is right before me."

Galileo: "I will end everything, so you should just watch silently."

Galileo: "I'll say it again and again. You are powerless."

Mitsuki: ".........."

He told me this to break my spirit and left the room.

I sat there, my gaze wandering.

(He really intended to kill me.)

As my dazed mind regained its senses, tears ran down my cheeks.

(No matter how much I try to understand him, if he hates me enough to kill me and rejects me, I can never touch his heart.)

The overwhelming sadness threatened to crush my chest, and tears continued to fall.

Leaving Mitsuki behind, Galileo came to the inner courtyard. There, where red flowers bloomed, he collapsed to his knees.

Galileo: "I won't be swayed."

Galileo: "Destruction is the only thing I truly desire."

His murmur faded into the air, and the red flowers swayed sadly.

After that, I returned to the mansion without Galileo's permission to flee from his hatred.

Three days after the commotion in the slums, we held Mireia's funeral.

Napoleon: "I brought Miguel here earlier. I thought I'd let him be alone with his sister."

Jean: "But it's about time. Could you go and check on him?"

Mitsuki: "Sure."

I entered the church and saw a small coffin placed in the spot where the light from the window shone down.

Miguel, sitting beside the coffin, was gazing into it with his blue eyes.

Mitsuki: "Miguel."

When I called out to him, he turned to look at me.

Miguel: "It's time, isn't it?"

As he stood up and came closer, he looked straight at me.

Miguel: "Thank you, big sis."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Miguel: "When I said I would take revenge on the hunters, you stopped me."

Miguel gently narrowed his eyes.

Miguel: "Honestly, I still hate them. I think this feeling will never go away."

Miguel: "But after hearing what you said, I want to think about Mireia instead of filling my heart with hatred."

Miguel: "I want to be a kind person, just like you and Mireia."

Mitsuki: "Miguel."

Miguel: "Thank you for trying to protect the me that Mireia loved so much."

He smiled shyly but still looked lonely.

(How many emotions are swirling inside this child right now?)

Anger, hatred, and sadness.

But perhaps his love for those dear to him is dissolving these negative emotions, slowly healing his wounded heart.

Seeing Miguel like this seems to save even me.

【I'll say it again and again. You are powerless.】

(That’s right, I'm powerless. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do. However, there was someone who listened to my voice.)

Mitsuki: "No, I just wanted you to be yourself."

Mitsuki: "Miguel, it's amazing that you accepted my voice and Mireia's feelings."

Miguel: "You think so? I won't forget your words or Mireia's."

Miguel: "And I won't forget the days I spent with her."

With tears in our eyes, we smiled at each other, and I suddenly thought,

(Did Galileo have someone like this when he was in pain? Someone who could gently soothe his wounds?)

Lost in thought, Miguel turned back to the coffin.

Miguel: "Rest in peace, Mireia."

He placed a bright red flower beside the coffin.

Mitsuki: "Miguel, where did you get that flower?"

Miguel: "It was on the coffin when I came to the church this morning."

Miguel: "I thought maybe the priest or someone from the mansion had placed it there."

(That's not it. There's only one place where that red flower blooms.)

The beautiful yet sorrowful garden where the remains of the Dhampir rest.

(Could it be that this flower is from Galileo?)

(Did he secretly come here to place a flower on the coffin, even though he seemed unfazed by the deaths of others?)

(I don't understand what you're thinking, Galileo.)

(What were you feeling when you placed that flower here?)

I didn't understand, yet seeing the flower tightened my chest.

(I can't give up.)

(I want to know what you're thinking, your feelings when you placed that flower here, what led you to destruction, and what you truly desire.)

(I want to touch the real you.)

After the flowers drifted and the funeral bells echoed in the sky, I went to the Seine River with a certain resolve.

(He might be here.)

Mitsuki: "Drake!"

When I called out, Drake's eyes slightly widened before he gave a wry smile.

Drake: "Hey, runaway girl. I thought you'd never show up in front of us again."

Drake: "You ran away yourself, so what do you want?"

Mitsuki: "I need to ask you a favor."

I stared back at Drake, not letting his words get to me.

Mitsuki: "I want you to lend me the harness you're wearing."

The harnesses that Galileo and Drake wear stabilize the space beyond the door.

(With that, I can...)

Drake: "You intend to go through that door, little fawn?"

I nodded, and Drake's eyes silently asked, "Why?"

Without looking away from his gaze, I spoke up.

Mitsuki: "I've always wanted to understand Galileo."

Mitsuki: "He told me to see the truth with my own eyes; that's why I've been watching him closely since then."

(Sometimes, I end up hurting him.)

Mitsuki: "But I still haven't gotten close to him. Focusing only on the present isn't enough."

Mitsuki: "Without knowing the truth, no words of mine will ever reach him. That's why I want to know what happened in his past."

When I said this without any pretense, Drake's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Drake: "Don't you think using that door is cheating?"

Mitsuki: "I do."

(Peeking into someone's past without permission shouldn't be allowed.)

Especially for Galileo. 

His past was so painful that he wanted to erase and deny it.

(But...)

When I recalled his fragile, tormented figure,

(I can't afford to be picky about the methods.)

Mitsuki: "I know it's unfair to try to understand Galileo this way."

Mitsuki: "But I feel that only by seeing and accepting all of his past with my own eyes can I finally touch his true heart."

Drake: "............"

Drake gazed at me as if trying to discern something.

More than anything, my heart was now directed towards Galileo, driven by a sense of justice.

Drake: "I see."

Drake: "I guess I've also gotten caught up with the woman of destiny."

Mitsuki: "What do you mean by that?"

Without answering my question, he removed his cloak and threw the harness toward me.

Drake: "Alright. I'll lend this to you, Mitsuki."

Drake: "Let's see your desperate struggle, shall we?"

After that, I returned to the mansion and went to the door without anyone noticing.

I put on the harness I borrowed from Drake, took a deep breath, and looked at the door.

(I’m now heading to Galileo’s past.)

I heard that this door responds to strong feelings.

My feelings for him will be my only guide to this door that connects to any country and any era.

(Galileo's past is connected to his goal of destruction. To stop that and to protect him, I need to see the truth with my own eyes.)

I reached out and opened the heavy door.

Meanwhile, at that moment,

Galileo: "Ugh, haah, haah."

Drake: "You okay, Galileo?!"

The door opened, and Galileo appeared from beyond.

Drake, supporting his staggering body, clicked his tongue at the sight of him breathing heavily.

Drake: "You went out on the night of the lunar eclipse. If things were gonna turn out like this, I should've been there to help you right from the start."

Galileo: "I told you, Drake. If we both collapse, it’d be meaningless."

Galileo: "Also, because we share the same wish, we can mercilessly abandon each other if something happens."

Drake: "You're right."

Galileo: "Besides, I finally found it."

Drake: "So it’s finally time."

Galileo: "Yeah. Now, we just have to wait for the moon to rise."

Galileo, after calming his breath a bit, suddenly noticed something.

Galileo: "Where's your harness, Drake?"

Drake: "I lent it to Mitsuki."

Galileo: "What?"

Drake smiled wryly and furrowed his eyebrows.

Drake: "Don't give me that look. She seemed dead serious about struggling, like a fawn ready to fight."

Drake: "She wants to see your past and protect you."

His purple eyes trembled ever so slightly.

But the momentary hesitation vanished in a blink of an eye.

Galileo: "Protect me? What good does protecting me do?"

Drake: "........."

Galileo: "Whether she's the woman of destiny or not, it doesn't matter. I won't be swayed by her, ever."

As each held steadfast to their feelings, midnight was about to fall.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[napoleonxfalon]

@blademasterdior location: Dior's Ludi notes: night of the party (Napoleon's assuming this is his birthday party, clearly it was a surprise for him!)

Night swelled like a shadow as it enveloped Napoleon's keen eyes. His reflection told him to turn in, but with a look, the young Sinarian reminded the pestering voice of his protector that this was his night—just as it had been his day. Remembrance from the glory that surrounded the sands still thrummed at the forefront of his mind, in truth, Napoleon hadn't been able to push it from his mind. The warriors' dance, the crowd's roar, and how easily the blood of Solis Invicti had spilled in the end.

Wine, sweat, and spice pulled in a heady mix at the senses. Even from the gates of the ludi Napoleon could hear the thrum of the music as the bards came out in full force. Debauchery littered the courtyard and as one such drunken patron stumbled into him, the telltale sound of a blade unsheathing resounded behind him from Napoleon's guard. With a gentle wave, he instructed the men to wait at the door - perhaps all night. Torchlight scattered the interior but regardless of the revelry, there was only one that held the mortal's interest. The founder of this place, and the victor who'd managed to look so dashing despite spending most of the match on his knees. Even then, Dior managed to perform with charisma.

Dancers moved in sinuous waves, their bodies entwined like vines, bare feet kicking up dust as laughter and wild cheers broke the night’s stillness. Skin gleaming with oil, and the air shaking with passion - it served to thrill, and Napoleon felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle as he stepped deeper into the ludi. The host was easily found at the center of it all, a supernova eclipsing all the light that surrounded it. Napoleon enjoyed a contest, so he moved with not a step, but a leap from the ground to the table as he stood very suddenly at eye level with Dior and took the moment to seize the crowd's attention.

"He fought like fire, burning through the fray," Light flickered across Napoleon's frame as the crowd dulled, only for a moment as he playfully encapsulated the day, shrining the gladiator for the evening. "each movement art, each strike a lover's sway." A delicate motion played idly with the fabric of his chiton, holding the crowd's attention as he looked past Dior long enough to search their crowded, cherry-red faces. They cheered for their hero, their patron, and the night afforded them- but when they roused from their beds in the morning the taste of Napoleon's tribute would still sing across their tongue. "The earth trembled beneath his every blow, and we, enthralled, could only watch him glow."

His attention was now more affixed toward the champion, Napoleon's mind recanted the day as he'd met Dior's eye time after time. It was easy to see why he was so favored - Falon told Napoleon that few gladiators had longevity, so Napoleon argued that Dior must be the exception. "The crowd erupted, and my gaze was yours, a body forged from battle, a strength that roars." Napoleon smiled as he turned in a smooth fashion to the tempo of the music that still thrummed loudly about them.

"Your triumph soared, unmatched by any man, and as you stood, the victor in command," Napoleon had no talent for singing, but he had been reading the greats since his most delicate age, and pilfered their works now and then too. He let the crowd lean in as Napoleon's words uttered above a whisper - they and Dior would have to listen if they wished to hear. "I marveled at the power you revealed, my longing, not easily concealed."

[thugnificent714]

-October 15th, 2024-

The Royal Wedding of Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess Anastasia Ivanovna Romanov, daughter of Tsar Ivan VII. Flowers greet those lucky invitees through the palace gates into the courtyard. Come along with me as we get a sneak peek as members of the press.

a short walk from the gates and we are now at the entrance to the palace.

Upon entry you must present your invitation or press credentials and check any coats or hats with the waiting footmen.

We are ushered through toward the Jordan Staircase.

the exquisite staircase funnels guests to the halls and rooms for the wedding reception and ball.

at the top of the stairs, we can go left into the Feildmarshals Hall or Right to the anteroom of the Neva Enfilade. Let's proceed right.

They have turned the anteroom into a lounge for guests who wish to enjoy a cocktail or two.

The next room is the Nicholas Hall where they are just beginning to dance the first waltz of the night.

The Concert Hall has a full orchestra conducted by the director of the Royal Music Academy.

Let's bypass all the guests by using the Portrait Gallery to get to the Fieldmarshals Hall. In the middle of the hall is where we can peek into the Winter Garden of the empress.

There is an officer on duty in here so for now we can just take a peek.

They have set the Fieldmarshals Hall as a dance hall for contemporary music for the younger court members who do not wish to participate in the formal ballroom dancing.

The Armorial Hall has been set up as the banquet hall with tables of meats and sides. The dinner was before the dancing stared and now the tables have been reset for the supper meal at 1:00AM.

We were allowed to wonder the Gallery of 1812 and see all the pictures of veterans of the War of 1812 against Napoleon.

Since the Grand Duchess was marrying into the royal family of Italy, the service was a Catholic one. The priest was proud to re-enact how he stood as he performed the sacrament.

As the sun sets, and we leave the palace having shared the royal stage set for a glorious union for the empire, we wish the happy couple many blessings.

[miffy-junot]

Junot, Laure and Caroline rpf, chapter 1

-- from the book 'The Governor's Wife' by Mathilda Malling, 1904

disclaimer: this is from an entirely fictional romance book, so don't take it too seriously

'Madame Junot was small, slender, and lithe, and she always carried her head high. She wore her dark, chestnut brown hair gathered in ringlets high upon her head; and over them she wore a golden band, set with three pearls. Her rich, dark complexion reminded one of an Oriental’s; her eyes met yours with a sure, undaunted glance, in which there was the gleam of a true soul. As she moved with slow asssurance down the broad stairs of the castle — the beautiful Raincy, of which she was the mistress — it was evident that Madame Junot was enceinte.

The November day was clear and cool. The afternoon sun gilded the copper roof of the castle, and threw a magnificent red glow over the fall-yellow poplars whose slender trunks striped the driveway with their shadows. A cavalcade of gentlemen, in various military costumes, came galloping into the courtyard, and drew rein to pay its respects to the chief occupant of the carriage that followed at a rapid pace. Then, as if by magic, the riders filled the place, making��it echo with their gay laughter and with the rattle of their spurs.

With hat in hand, and with the red glow of the sun upon his heavy, blond hair, the Governor of Paris stepped to the carriage and welcomed, to his Raincy, Princess Caroline Murat, the Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve, the sister of the great Napoleon. In turn, she smiled condescendingly on Junot, and, lightly pressing his hand, she received the greetings of his wife, who treated her distinguished guest with all the formality dictated by court etiquette and with the graciousness of a lady. The Princess had come to hunt at Raincy — had come, in fact, to show herself to General and Madame Junot, who had been acquaintances of earlier days, and under different conditions. She could not, however, lay aside the forced, sarcastic tone which had become habitual with her since she received the title of Princess, as she addressed her hostess: ‘‘Madame la ‘Gouverneuse' de Paris (as my brother, the Emperor, calls you), are you not to ride with us to-day ? You, with your figure, would make an excellent Amazon.” Madame Junot smiled conventionally as she followed the Princess up the stairs, and took no notice of the rough edge of her remark, answering : “Your Imperial Highness will remember, perhaps, that my husband — possibly with too much care for me — has denied me the pleasure of sharing in the hunt.”

“What a tender husband you are, Junot!” said the Princess. “Here is your wife insisting that you have forbidden her to ride. Well, let Prince Joachim try that with me!” The Governor of Paris laughed heartily, for he was in excellent humour to-day, and it amused him to hear Caroline Murat call her husband "Prince Joachim." Never before had his proud castle seemed so beautiful, as it stood there bathed in the strong sunlight and its courtyard thronged with brilliant figures. He had a vague feeling that it looked like that when the Duke of Orleans hunted there, thirty years before. “It isn’t everyone,” he said, “who has your Highness’ talent in controlling horses as well as men. For my part, I consider hunting too dangerous a sport for ladies in general.” With a challenging motion of her head toward Junot, and with a peculiar glance from under her long eyelashes. Princess Caroline said: “Has it never occurred to you that there are women as well as men who are attracted by the danger?"

As though Madame Junot had not heard the conversation between the Princess and her husband, she turned to her Imperial Highness and asked if it was her wish to bathe before dinner. The Princess assented, and, leaning upon her former playmate’s arm, she disappeared with her down the broad corridor of the castle, accompanied by the ladies in attendance. Junot stroked his chin and smiled, and he stood for a few moments watching the retreating figures.

The white silk curtains were drawn aside from the two massive bathtubs that formed the centre of the beautiful bathroom in the state apartment at Raincy. Nymph and Naiad looked down from the frescoed walls upon a fair scene when the Princess stepped daintily from her dressing-room, where she had been disrobed, and moved across the marble floor in the soft light of the hanging lamp and in the yellow glow from the fire that was burning brightly on the hearth. Fairer than Venus she looked as she paused in order to drop her rose-colored shawl at the edge of the water, and then she dipped quickly in the bath. To one of the maids she said : ‘‘Ask Madame Junot to come to me.” “Ah, Laurette...” — she hesitated over her blunder, for she had long since ceased to address Madame Junot so familiarly — “I think you told me that one of your maids is very clever at hair-dressing. Will you be kind enough to lend her to me?” “Your Highness has but to command; I shall send for Marguerite at once.” While Madame Junot was speaking, the bather rose, the better to survey the gorgeous dinner toilette in which she had entered; for the Governor’s wife was arrayed in a gown of white moiré and Flemish lace, and the diamonds about her head and shoulders gave a radiance to her complexion that could not be surpassed. With a smiling glance the Princess whispered: “Listen, Laurette; do you know that a grand toilette becomes you the best while…” At that instant her foot slipped, and she would have fallen had not Madame Junot, clutching her shoulder with a firm grip, supported her. But for several days afterward upon Princess Caroline’s white, round shoulder there were to be seen the deep, red marks that had been made by five pointed little finger-nails.

Junot leaned back in his chair, gazing contentedly at the scene about him. The substantial hunting-dinner was nearing its end, and about him in profusion were to be seen the artistic vases and the bowls and the beautiful silver, all adorned with golden lilies — the arms of the House of Orleans; they had formed the table service at Raincy for many years. Everywhere were the brilliant flowers of autumn, and from the parent vine there fell in abundance to the table large bunches of golden-green, of red, and of purple, grapes. Host and guests offered toast after toast to a successful hunt, drinking freely from Bohemian glasses that were treasured souvenirs from Austerlitz. When Junot leaned back, he let his arm rest lightly on the back of the chair to his right, in which sat Princess Caroline, Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve. Over the wound on her left shoulder lay a lace shawl that, like an airy bandolier, veiled her breast and softly shaded her rose-red robe. From among pink and white roses her many jewels peeped out, and in her blond hair there glistened the golden tips of a diadem. Like a Venus girdle the flowers lay around her slender waist and perfumed her bosom with their fragrance. Her little hands — unusually beautiful, as were all the Bonapartes’ — played thoughtfully with some dark-blue grapes, and raised them one by one to her ruby lips. Junot watched the scene, his arm still hanging loosely over the back of the Princess’ chair. From her beautiful face, flushed with wine, his glance wandered down the long row of merry guests and rested with a sense of relief upon his wife at the other end of the table. She was lifting her glass — filled, as usual, with water — to her escort, M. Moutbreton, bending forward gracefully as she did so. He could almost hear the finely turned repartee with which she answered that brilliant gallant, and he read a world of meaning in her clear eyes and roguish smile as she sat there in white and diamonds — his proud and beautiful wife.

“Chapelle! Chapelle!” cried Junot, springing to his feet and beckoning to his valet, who was entering the room, though covered with dust, and with his spurs wet with blood, “is it a message from Germany?” And when he took the precious missive in his own eager hands, he motioned almost impatiently to the messenger to withdraw. “You have ridden with this all the way from Paris, good Chapelle! See to it that you get wine and something to eat.” As he spoke, Junot tore open the seal and spread the despatch before him, and a breathless silence fell upon the gay and noisy company, each one leaning forward, eager to catch the first news from the battle-field. Junot’ s eyes ran quickly over the paper; then he raised them, filled with tears, and spoke with great solemnity: “The Grand Army has entered Berlin!”

He stopped, looked around, and, inspired by the questions he read in all their anxious looks, he exclaimed, lifting his glass: ‘‘Let us always remember that on the 25th of October, in the year of our Lord 1806, our Emperor planted his eagle in the city of Frederick the Great!” With one impulse they rose, and, with uplifted glasses, they pledged their faith in the cry: “Long live the Emperor! Long live the victory over Prussia!" The Governor of Paris re-read the despatch, and then more leisurely he studied the contents of the letter that accompanied it. Gradually a proud smile stole over his fine features as he read his friend Duroc’s brief description of the episodes of the war from the battle at Jena, on the 14th of October, to the entering of Berlin; there were only twelve days between, but each day was marked by a new victory. Murmuring almost inaudibly, he re-read the letter until he came to the last part; then he raised his voice: “The Emperor is pleased... Berthier longs for Paris…” He crushed the paper in his hand, and, with an expression of bitter grief, lifted his other hand to his forehead “And I — I am not there! — I, alone, am not allowed to be with them!" His face flushed with excitement, and his eyes filled again with tears. He turned to his wife, who had reached his side almost as soon as Chapelle, and in uncontrollable sorrow he repeated, in a toneless whisper, “I, alone, am not allowed to be with him!"

Madame Junot glanced quickly at her guests, and, pressing her husband’s hand, she said to Princess Caroline: “Madame, are you not proud to see how beloved your brother is? Never has Junot made the Emperor a greater sacrifice than when he agreed to remain here and govern his Paris for him.” The Princess, resting her hand steadily upon Madame Junot’s arm, answered: “You can rest assured that so great a devotion to our family shall have a proud reward...” and for a moment the two women looked each other straight in the eyes, while a stereotyped, mask-like smile hid the thoughts of one and the crafty designs of the other.

After the dinner the company gathered in the salon, a very large room — almost a gallery — divided into three parts by two rows of slender marble columns, among which were placed statues holding candelabra. The part at the left was a billiard-room, that at the right a music-room, and the division between was the real reception-salon. Through an imposing row of windows was to be had a beautiful view over the park, with its extensive lawns bordered by the brook, the Pavilion Rendez-vous, and two long rows of trees. Madame Junot sang, with Nicolo Isouard, the opera-singer, a duette from Fioravanti’s “Camille.” If it was intended to amuse the Princess, the effort was lost; for she sat in a window seat chatting with Junot, who, in a sentimental posture, leaned against one of the pillars in front of her. Princess Caroline was not very musical; she liked to talk about music, and she sang a little, because it was the fashion. To-night, she did not try to conceal the fact that she would rather talk than sing, or listen to singing. She applauded loudly, nevertheless, when the duette was finished. “My wife has a splendid voice, has she not?” said Junot, enthusiastically. ‘‘A magnificent voice — truly Italian!” answered the Princess, with fervour, rising with the others to congratulate Madame Junot.

The company now surrounded the host and begged him to sing, for they knew that his voice was unusually sonorous, flexible, and full of feeling; and to-night they did not ask in vain. ‘‘Only one song... to-night I can sing but one song.” Emotional as he was, his eyes filled with tears as he began:

"Allons enfants de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrive…”*

The spirit of the song was contageous. The ladies nodded their heads and softly hummed the patriotic words, while to the men — no matter of what political party — there arose pictures of war and victory.'

*these are the first words of the Marseillaise, the French national anthem

hehe I'm liking this already :D

[divorcedwife]

i found another great anecdote in the memoirs of Marcellin Marbot... Marbot recounts a story where he presented Napoleon with some captured flags from a victory over the Austrians, and then a few days later helped Napoleon put on a little play to scare the ambassador of Prussia

"Marshal of the Palace Duroc, after telling us what we were to do, had all the Austrian flags which we had brought from Bregenz secretly replaced in the lodgings which Massy and I occupied; then, some hours later, when the Emperor was in conversation with Count Haugwitz in his study, we re-enacted the ceremony of the handover of the flags in exactly the same way as it had been done on the first occasion. The Emperor hearing the band playing in the courtyard, feigned astonishment, and went to the windows followed by the ambassador. Seeing the flags carried by the N.C.O.s. he called for the duty aide-de-camp and asked him what was going on. The aide-de-camp having told him that we were two of Marshal Augereau's aides who had come to hand over to him the flags of Jellachich's Austrian corps captured at Bregenz, we were led inside; there Napoleon, without blinking an eyelid, and as if he had never seen us before, took the letter from Augereau, which had been re-sealed, and read it, although he had been aware of its contents for four days. Then he questioned us, making us go into the smallest details. Duroc had warned us to speak out loudly, as the ambassador was a little hard of hearing, this advice was of no use to Major Massy, who was the leader of the mission, since he was suffering from a cold and had almost completely lost his voice, so it was I who replied to the Emperor, and taking a lead from him, I painted in the most vivid colours the defeat of the Austrians, their despondency, and the enthusiasm of the French. Then, presenting the trophies one after the other, I named the Austrian regiments to which they had once belonged. I laid particular stress on two of them, because I knew that their capture would have a powerful effect on the ambassador, "Here," I said "is the flag of the infantry regiment of his Majesty the Emperor of Austria, and there is the standard of the Uhlans, commanded by the Archduke Charles, his brother." Napoleon's eyes twinkled, and he seemed to say, "Well done young man!" At last he dismissed us, and as we left we heard him say to the ambassador, "You see, monsieur le Comte, my armies are everywhere triumphant…. The Austrian army is no more, and soon the same fate will befall the Russians." Count Haugwitz seemed deeply impressed, and Duroc said to us, after we had left the room, "The count will write tonight to Berlin, to tell his government of the destruction of Jellachich's force, which will put a damper on the war party, and give the king new reasons for holding off. Which is what the Emperor very much wants."

This comedy having been played out, The Emperor, to be rid of a dangerous onlooker who could give an account of the disposition of his forces, suggested to Count Haugwitz that it was not very safe for him to remain between two armies which were about to come to blows, and persuaded him to go to Vienna to M. Tallyrand, his minister for foreign affairs, which he did that same evening.

The following day the Emperor said nothing to us about the scene which had been enacted the previous evening, but wishing, no doubt, to give some sign of his satisfaction with the manner in which we had played our parts, he asked Major Massy, kindly, about the progress of his cold, and he pinched my ear, which with him was a sort of caress."

[bridgeportbritt]

The Emporer of Francesim, Napoléon V, arrives at Willington Palace and is greeted by Her Majesty

When two countries unite! Napoléon V of Francesim made it across the pond to Willington Palace today for a two day state visit hosted by Queen Diana.

This is the first time Napoléon V has been to Francesim, but the countries have been allied for some time. TRH Grand Duke and Duchess of Umbrage attended St. Napoléon's Day and was given the Legion of Honor by the late Emperor Napoleon IV.

The details of the visit have not been released to the public, but many expect to see the two rulers out and about in SimDonia the next two days. SimDonia Times has been granted exclusive coverage of the event and will be providing live updates.

In the Willington Palace Courtyard, Diana and Napoléon V greet with a warm handshake and pleasantries. Napoléon V wears a fitted black suit as he is currently still in mourning over the loss of his father.

Queen Diana wears a short sleeve black and white tweed turtleneck belted dress which shows her growing baby bump. She also wears diamond earring and a pearl necklace with a black bow which we believe is a symbol of respect for the Emporer's mourning period.

The two sovereigns snap a quick casual photo before retreating into Willington Palace where the Emporer will be residing for the duration of his visit. We're excited for more to come of this trip!

@empiredesimparte

[emaadsidiki]

Louvre, Paris. ꒷︶🏛️︶꒷

[lahilden]

The Palace of Versailles

The Palace of Versailles is located in Versailles, France. The royal château served as the seat of French political power. The palace was originally built as a hunting lodge for King Louis XIII and enlarged into a royal palace by Louis XIV. The château went through many expansion phases. The second phase in 1678-1715 saw two enormous wings added. Although the cost was extraordinary, it was decided the château should serve as a showcase for France. All the materials that went into construction and décor were manufactured in France. One of the most costly elements was the silver furniture and silver balustrade used by King Louis XIV for the grand apartments. The palace has a long history, with the royal family forced to leave Paris during the French Revolution. When the monarchy fell, Versailles Palace fell into ruin, and most of the furniture was sold. In 1810, Napoleon began restoration work, which continued under Louis XVIII in 1820, but it wasn’t until King Louis-Philippe that true efforts began. The Fifth Republic made further restorations in the 1950s and promoted the château as a museum. In 2003, a new restoration initiative began. The palace boasts 700 rooms, 67 staircases, and 1,250 fireplaces. The original façade, red brick with cut stone embellishments, has been preserved. The eastern side of the palace has a U-shaped layout with secondary wings and a black and white marble courtyard. Throughout its history, there have been five chapels on the site, the current one built in the Baroque style by King Louis XVI. The castle is also known for its Hall of Mirrors. This gallery is 230 feet long and holds 17 arcaded mirrors, while the ceiling is painted with 30 scenes from Louis XIV’s reign. The Royal Opera was completed in 1770. The castle has many opulent apartments, from the king’s private rooms to the staterooms. The palace gardens boast water fountains and an orangery. #PalaceOfVersailles #castles #palaces #museum #France #Versailles #history

[baronetcoins]

I feel like I win when I lose—Director's Commentary

In what is rapidly becoming a tradition of mine, I went on a research Bender for my Yuletide fic and there are so many details I want to point out and discuss—so I will. This year I wrote I feel like I win when I lose for @avengingmariner and I did loose my mind over it, but in a fun way. Join me in my descent into madness below the cut.

My brief was "you must put my man laurence in A Situation" and I somehow landed on the core nugget of "Napoleon finds Laurence in his darkest hour, instead of Tharkay"—mostly because NGL I haven't read further in this series than Victory of Eagles. I'm working on it, just not there yet.

From that point I just sort of... started writing and felt out where the story wanted to go, and then I kept falling into research holes. Here are some of the fun pieces of information I learned in rough order of where they popped up in the fic.

There was chicken set aside from the dinner he was supposed to have had hours ago, before an urgent missive had pulled him away—a simple roast bird, born out from what local provisions had been found

The WEEK I was working on this, Max Miller of Tasting History put out a video on Napoleon. I wasn't able to work in a lot of detail about the food here just because I couldn't make it flow into what I was writing, but there's so much I wish I could have talked about. The weird thing with chicken! Apocryphal stories about how dishes got their names! His drinking habits! The inherent whatever of breaking bread with somebody who's supposed to be your enemy! Now that I'm writing this paragraph I feel like I need to write another fic about food.

And then I Made chicken marengo the week after because I was curious. It was fine?

le mistral noir

Now this bit owes its thanks to Kangoo, my resident French correspondent. I was talking to him about what could be a nickname the French soldiers used for Temeraire, and he suggested "le mistral" which he described as "(very cold and often violent wind that blows into france from great britain, known for cleaning the sky of clouds and also wrecking your shit) (also the name of a fighter plane)" and I went "oh, that's Perfect". And I wanted to be able to explain that reference. Because it's So Good.

He blinked around at the courtyard of brick building before being hurried just as swiftly into a fine bedchamber where he was given a cold supper and the opportunity to wash himself. With little else to do, he fell into another restless sleep.

This was a fun bit of gamesmanship to think out—where would Napoleon want to set the treaty signing in order to send a message? And in order to think about that, I had to learn more about how the government of Britain worked in this timeframe (polisci major hat incoming).

In the US, authority to make treaties is vested in the executive branch, but the legislative branch has to ratify them. I did not know how that worked for the British, because their system mystefies me to this day. Luckily, I found this paper which explains how it worked in 1938, and there isn't much reason to expect it to have changed in that period, so the answer is "at least in theory, the authority rests with the Crown".

Based on that, I figured he'd want to make a point by holding it in a royal building as opposed to Westminster, so I went with St. James' palace which has been used for state stuff forever. Unfortunately, the details for the interior of St. James' are scarce. I was looking at 1860s watercolors to try and squint out a layout.

It was a dress uniform of aviator green, with gold braid and buttons as well as twin epaulettes. He dropped it as if it were a hot coal.

This was perhaps my longest diversion. I'm not intimately familiar with the internal culture of the military <understatement, but I knew having Laurence be present in any form would be read as a huge statement. So what kind of statement would you want to make? Ultimately I went with "the biggest 'fuck you' possible", so Laurence in a British aviator's uniform.

Then there was the question of fringe or no fringe. Which didn't even make it into the fic, but was an interesting diversion. You see, "captain" is a term that connotes a different level of authority in the Army vs the Navy. NATO has a standard rank scale I was able to squint at here, as it tries to standardize across branches and countries. Captain in the British Army is an OF-2 rank, but Captain in the British Navy is an OF-5 rank. What does it represent in those terms in the Arial Corps? I have no idea! This impacts nothing here other than if one or both epaulettes would have fringe on them.

He wandered the hallways, passing French soldiers who saluted him and English dignitaries who ignored him or glared at him in turn. In desperation he returned to seek refuge in the room he’d been left last.

The medal Laurence gets is that of the Légion d'honneur, and nominally military personnel in uniform are supposed to salute other uniformed personnel wearing it, regardless of ranks involved. That was too good of a detail not to gesture at.

The Wikipedia article

I picked Jacques-Louis David entirely because he's my favorite artist of this time period and location, though the fact he did official work for Napoleon was a bonus. I'm very interested in the uses of these really formalized displays of image-crafting as used for propaganda, and also it's just fun to think about. Spent ages looking at Wikipedia too to get the formatting and the style of writing right, which I think I did.

The Title

Really, it just made me laugh, so it had to stay. I mean the song is also fitting and I think it's the sentiment I wanted to gesture at emotionally, but it is also funny,

[diocletianscabbagefarm]

Okay let's see what I can manage to gather from the Napoleon trailer in terms of historical events

I'm guessing this is Napoleon talking to Paul Barras, one of the leaders of the Directory (the regime in charge after Robespierre's downfall), and who helped Napoleon's rise to power by putting him in charge of troops to defend the Directory against a royalist uprising and nominating him to command the army of Italy. Paul Barras was eventually sidelined by Napoleon.

Clearly Marie Antoinette's execution, especially considering the trailer begins with the date 1973, the year in which she was executed.

The famous 'whiff of grapeshot', with which Napoleon said he put down the royalist uprising. Those royalist rioters should probably be a lot better armed than sticks and pitchforks though, considering they included the national guardsmen of one of the sections of Paris. Also the location should be different but that courtyard looks pretty cinematic so I won't quibble. Btw if you go to Paris you can still see the holes in made by the grapeshot in the Saint Roch church to this day, a few streets away from the Louvre

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Dorothea von Biron:

a. „A great beauty and gracious hostess, possibly the most beautiful of four extraordinarily attractive and scandalous sisters, said to posses an extraordinary charm. But what makes her The Sexyman is the feat of managing to captivate the old wily devil Talleyrand and becoming the greatest and last love of his life… while, technically, being his niece by marriage.”

François Joseph Lefebvre:

“Total DILF material, and the fiery passion in his eyes was matched only by his fiery personality! This contest may be based on looks (and Lefebvre is a strong candidate on this metric alone); but it's hard not to fall in love with his spicy takes and saucy language. He told Napoleon, "Let us throw the lawyers into the river” after agreeing to help overthrow the Directory (quoted in David G. Chandler, ed., Napoleon's Marshals), and from his English Wikipedia article: When a friend expressed envy of his estate, Lefebvre said, "Come down in the courtyard, and I'll have ten shots at you with a musket at 30 paces. If I miss, the whole estate is yours." After the friend declined this offer, Lefebvre added, "I had a thousand bullets shot at me from much closer range before I got all this." In response to a clueless young man demanding his identity at a social event, he answered, ''Je viens de la lune, où je n'ai jamais vu un Jean-Foutre de ton espèce: Je m'appelle le Général Lefebvre!” [“I come from the moon, where I’ve never seen such a #*$& as you. My name is General Lefevre!”] Quoted in The Secret History of the Cabinet of Bonaparte by Lewis Goldsmith, 1810, which is also hilarious because the author clearly hates Lefebvre, but makes him sound like a cool badass. He earns additional sexy points by sticking by his ex-washerwoman wife, who had a mouth of her own. (tbh Catherine Lefebvre, “Madame Sans-Gêne,” deserves her own Napoleonic Sexyman [gender neutral] nomination).”