Jerome Bonaparte continued to chat idly with the captain for a long time, until the cargo ship finished unloading and was ready to return to Marseille Port. It was then that the captain excused himself and left Jerome Bonaparte.
Sitting alone by the porthole, Jerome Bonaparte stared blankly at the azure sea, feeling a slight sense of unease and anxiety growing within him.
This feeling was completely different from the state of mind he had while commanding in London and Rome.
"Can I really lead them to victory?" Jerome Bonaparte couldn’t help but murmur softly, recalling the scene at his cousin’s window, where he promised that the eagle flag of Bonaparte would fly over France.
"I have no way back now!" Jerome Bonaparte’s eyes turned from confused to resolute.
He was now carrying the dreams of too many people and no longer had the right to capriciously say he would give up.
The Bonaparte Clan would either become the ruling family of France or be nothing.
It was already 6:30 in the afternoon.
The setting sun’s glow shone through the porthole onto Jerome Bonaparte’s determined face as the cargo ship bearing the Prince’s ambitions rushed out of Civitavecchia Port.
After a night of sailing, the cargo ship arrived at the sea, less than 5 nautical miles from Marseille Port, around 7 in the morning the next day.
The gentle sea breeze filled the sails on the mast, and the soft waves were split by the keel to form a beautiful white trail, as the sideboards clattered with a "pop" from the impact.
In the "score" composed of wind, rain, and waves, Jerome Bonaparte, wearing a black fitted coat and a command saber encrusted with jewels at his waist, slowly walked onto the deck from the captain’s quarters.
His flowing golden hair was lifted by the sea breeze, and every crew member on the ship turned their gaze toward Jerome Bonaparte.
Moments later, they looked at Jerome Bonaparte as if they had seen a ghost.
The captain’s mouth opened in shock, and he uttered through his vocal cords, "Your Ma... jesty..."
Jerome Bonaparte smiled slightly, opening his arms to embrace the air, his tone full of pride and confidence, "France, I have returned!"
"Your Majesty!" The captain’s voice grew louder, acknowledging that Jerome Bonaparte’s attire resembled the Emperor in the portrait to an astonishing degree.
If you didn’t look closely, it would indeed be difficult to notice the difference between the two.
"Hmm!" Jerome Bonaparte nodded to the captain, having painstakingly crafted an outfit his uncle used to wear to cosplay as him, just to give people the illusion of the Emperor’s return.
For this, he had to thank his biological father.
If it weren’t for him being born so similarly to his uncle, he might have only followed in his cousin’s footsteps.
Always claiming to be the Emperor’s nephew, unlike now, when others would naturally mistake him for his uncle.
At this moment, on the platform of Fort Saint Jean at Marseille Port, a large crowd stood solemnly, their gazes uniformly fixed on the sea.
They were all dressed in formal wear, sporting top hats, with a dignified attitude, as if to meet a monarch.
At the front of the row stood Fleury, and beside him was Rue, a member of the National Assembly of France.
Staring out at the endless sea, with no sign of a ship on the horizon, Rue asked Fleury, "Mr. Fleury, is His Majesty really disembarking at Marseille Port today?"
Fleury glanced at Rue and said calmly, "Since Captain Letty said His Majesty would arrive today, then His Majesty will certainly arrive!"
"I’m just a little worried that if any mishap occurs en route... our plan..." Rue voiced his concerns.
"Rest assured! There won’t be any mishaps, I believe God will surely protect His Majesty!" Fleury said resolutely.
Observing Fleury’s determined expression, Rue said nothing further, instead inwardly praying for Jerome Bonaparte’s quick arrival.
"Look! There’s a ship heading this way!"
Someone from the crowd cried out, and everyone’s gaze shifted to the sea.
On the horizon, a cargo ship was slowly approaching the port of Marseille.
"It must be His Majesty’s ship!" Fleury exclaimed excitedly.
Or it could just be an ordinary cargo ship!
Rue muttered to himself, but he still showed an excited expression, just like Fleury.
As the cargo ship gradually sailed into the vicinity of Fort Yif, many curious onlookers gathered on the platform of Fort Saint Jean.
Whenever a cargo ship entered the port, these people would watch from the platform.
Time passed for more than half an hour as the cargo ship slowly stopped at the outer edges of Marseille Port.
A pilot’s dinghy was lowered from the ship, on which five people could be vaguely seen, two of whom seemed to be sailors.
The dinghy navigated through the narrow channel, soon arriving at the platform of Fort Saint Jean.
As the dinghy reached the platform, the people standing on it stared at the three individuals onboard as if bewitched.
"Subjects of the Empire, how are you?" A friendly greeting seemed to transcend time and space to reach the people of Marseille Port, transporting the residents back to the imperial era.
Could it be that His Majesty the Emperor had truly revived?
The emotions of the Marseille Port residents were simply indescribable.
Despite being in a traditional stronghold of Royalist Party influence, when a figure from legend truly stood among them, how could they possibly remain calm?
"Long live Bonaparte! Long live the Empire!"
While everyone was still stunned by the "impostor" before them, Rue seized the moment to shout loudly.
The members of the Bonaparte family, snapping out of their shock, also hysterically cried, "Long live Bonaparte, long live the Empire!"
This fervor successfully spread to the residents on the platform of Fort Saint Jean, who began spontaneously shouting, "Long live the Empire!"
The collective cry of hundreds of people alerted the police executing duties near the platform of Fort Saint Jean.
Fearing it to be a riot, the police cautiously approached the platform.
In attire reminiscent of his uncle, Jerome Bonaparte disembarked amid the crowd’s cries, lowering his voice to make it more compelling, saying, "Fellow citizens of Marseille, I am Jerome Bonaparte, His Majesty Napoleon is my uncle! Today, I stand here not for the Empire, but for the Republic!"
As soon as Jerome Bonaparte’s words fell, the crowd once again chanted, "Long live Bonaparte."
Jerome Bonaparte raised his hands and continued, "I know all of you are the finest citizens of the Republic, and you have much to tell me, but my friends and I are tired, could you please make way!"
With the assistance of the police who arrived, everyone on the platform cleared a path, and Jerome Bonaparte left the platform of Fort Saint