Reincarnated as Napoleon

Dr. Durand led Francis to a small break room where a television was mounted on the wall. The room was cramped, with a coffee machine in the corner and a couple of worn-out sofas that had seen better days. Nurses and doctors were already gathering, taking a moment from their demanding duties to listen to the Empress's address.

The screen flickered to life, and the Empress appeared, regal yet somber against the backdrop of the imperial palace. 

"Citizens of the Great French Empire. I have an announcement to make. An influenza virus has stricken the southern regions of France and has infected thousands of our people. This outbreak is severe and is stretching our healthcare resources, but we are responding with all the strength and resolve that our nation is known for."

The room was silent, the medical staff's exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they hung on every word of their sovereign.

"The government has already dispatched emergency medical teams to the affected areas and is in constant communication with local authorities to assess and respond to the situation. We are also collaborating with other nations, particularly Spain, Italy, and Germany to bring additional aid and expertise to manage this outbreak."

The Empress took a moment to gather her thoughts, her expression compassionate yet unwavering. "To those who have fallen ill, know that your country stands with you. We are mobilizing all necessary resources to ensure that you receive the best care possible. To the families who are worried about their loved ones, we are taking swift action to support you and to prevent further spread of the virus."

She then addressed the nation's collective effort to combat the virus. "I call upon all citizens to adhere to the guidelines set forth by health officials. Practice good hygiene, stay informed, and support each other while maintaining the necessary precautions to keep our communities safe." 

"Now, I also have an announcement to make. To combat the virus from spreading into the rest of France, and potentially, to mainland Europe, we are placing the southern region in martial law. This is not a decision we take lightly, but it is essential to ensure that the spread of the virus is contained. Movement in and out of the region will be restricted, and we will enforce a curfew to limit contact between individuals. Essential services will continue, foods will be delivered to every household every day, and medical teams will be available around the clock to attend to the sick and ensure that everyone has access to the medical care they need." 

"That would be all, citizens of France. Stay strong, stay united, and we will persevere through these trying times. We have faced challenges before and have emerged stronger, and I have every confidence that we will do so again. May our resolve be as unyielding as the love we hold for our nation."

The Empress's image faded from the screen, leaving the room in a momentary stillness as the message sunk in.

"We've got our work cut out for us," Dr. Durand finally broke the silence, flickering his gaze to Francis. "Your Imperial Highness, we will resume our work now. Are you going to be okay alone?" 

Francis nodded solemnly. "Yes, I'll be fine, Dr. Durand. I'll stay here for a moment, maybe calling back to Versailles." 

"I see, Dr. Durand gave Francis an understanding nod. "Of course, Your Highness. Please use the phone in this room if you need privacy. And if there's anything you require, don't hesitate to ask one of the staff."

With a final reassuring pat on Francis' back, Dr. Durand exited the break room, leaving Francis alone with his thoughts. He picked up the telephone and dialed the number to Versailles, waiting for the connection to be established.

The line clicked, and a familiar voice answered, "This is the Palace of Versailles, how may I assist you?" 

"This is the Crown Prince of the French Empire, Francis Bonaparte. I want you to deliver a message to Her Imperial Majesty, Ciela Bonaparte that her son called and wish to speak to her at her earliest convenience."

There was a momentary silence as the receptionist was probably shocked to hear the Crown Prince himself on the line. The receptionist quickly regained composure, "Of course, Your Highness. I will convey your message immediately to Her Imperial Majesty. May I have the number where you can be reached?"

Francis provided the contact number of the break room's telephone. 

"Understood, Your Highness. Your message will be given top priority, and the Empress will be informed right away. We will contact you on this number as soon as possible."

After thanking the receptionist, Francis hung up the phone. He sat back on the sofa, rubbing his temples as he contemplated the scale of the crisis facing the nation. A virus that has no known cure, where the only way to defeat it is through 

containment and prevention. 

Thirty minutes later.

The telephone mounted on the wall rang, cutting through the quiet tension of the break room. Francis straightened up, his thoughts interrupted by the sudden noise. He reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Crown Prince Francis speaking." 

"Even in the telephone call, you sound formal my dear."

Francis's eyes widened as he recognized the voice. It belonged to his mother, the Empress of the French Empire, Ciela. 

"Mother…it was a great speech earlier. It's like you talking to your children, where the people are the children, comforting yet guiding us," Francis said.

"Thank you, Francis," Ciela replied. "How are you faring there?" 

"Quite a bit tired but after seeing the frontliners, I don't think I have the right to complain. They're working non-stop," Francis admitted.

"That may be true but you are still the Crown Prince of the French Empire. If you caught the virus due to your weak resistance as a result of your tiredness. Well, I don't think I have to remind you." 

"If I get sick and possibly expire, that position will be transferred to Tristan, yes I know, mother." 

"Don't say such things!" Ciela chided, it was rare for his mother to snap like that. "Your health is not a trivial matter. Not just for the sake of succession, but because you are my son…"

"I know Mother," Francis interrupted…and then there was a knock on the door, causing him to shoot a glance at the door. "Who's there?" 

"What do you mean?" Ciela asked.

"Not you Mother, someone just knocked—" Francis paused as he saw Dr. Durand with a serious expression. "I'll call you back, mother. Something came up." 

Without waiting for a response, Francis gently set down the receiver and stood up to meet Dr. Durand.

"What's the situation?" Francis asked immediately, sensing the urgency. 

"Your Imperial Highness, we may have identified the patient zero."