Chapter 203 Prelude To Finding The Truth

Normally, to get to France from Russia, it would take several weeks or a few months, but with the advent of the steam locomotive in the European continent, traveling distant journeys were cut short. Tsar Paul's first journey from Paris to St. Petersburg only took a week. Though there is no direct line as they would have to ride steam locomotives from France and Prussia.

He dreamt that one day, the Russian Empire will have a vast network of railways connecting its farthest corners. As he gazed out of the steam locomotive window, the landscape whizzing past in a blur, he imagined the possibilities that such a network could bring. Rapid movement of goods, efficient transportation of troops, and above all, a sense of unity that the sprawling empire could benefit from.

But to make that dream a reality is going to be a challenge. It was evident when he was implementing radical reforms to modernize his country. The resistance from the nobility and bureaucracy was substantial. Change, it seemed, was not a welcomed guest in these corridors of power. Yet, he was determined to push forward.

As the train rattled on, he recalled the discussions with Napoleon in France. Conspirators who wished to see him dead for what he had done to them. They have to be taken care of if he wants to make the Russian Empire stable and secure. Trusting Napoleon's list of conspirators was a gamble, one that he couldn't afford to lose. The potential threat to his rule was grave, and he needed to confirm the information before taking any drastic actions.

***

February 27th, 1801. In St. Petersburg, Winter Palace.

Emperor Paul was in his office, drumming his fingers on the table as he awaited the arrival of his personal assistant.

The door opened, and Alexei Arakcheyev walked in, his expression serious and focused. "Your Imperial Majesty," he greeted with a respectful nod.

"Alexei," Tsar Paul replied, his tone reflecting both urgency and concern. "Have there been any developments?"

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," Alexei responded, approaching the desk and placing a folder in front of the Tsar. "Our agents have been discreetly investigating the individuals on the list provided by the First Consul of France."

Tsar Paul opened the folder, scanning through the reports. Each page represented a piece of a puzzle that could determine the safety of his empire. He absorbed the information meticulously, his brows furrowing at times.The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

"Any concrete evidence?" Tsar Paul inquired, his voice steady.

Tsar Paul stood up, his chair scraping softly against the floor. He faced the window and looked out of it for a moment.

"Tonight, we will uncover the truth."

***

Nine o'clock in the evening, the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the city of St. Petersburg. At the outskirts of the city, on the expansive grounds of Nikolay Alexandrovich Zubov's estate, a carriage pulled up to the grand entrance. One by one, individuals emerged from the carriage. They were the figures named on the list of potential conspirators.

Vladimir Mikhailovich Yashvil, a man of imposing stature, descended from the carriage with an air of confidence. Beside him, Levin August von Bennigsen, his features etched with a mixture of anticipation and caution, surveyed the surroundings. Nikolay Alexandrovich Zubov, the ostensible host of the gathering, greeted each arrival with a nod and a welcoming smile.

Peter Ludwig von der Pahlen followed suit, his countenance a mix of intrigue and skepticism. Olga Zherebtsova, her presence a rarity among the male-dominated gathering, exuded grace, her eyes darting around the scene. Nikita Petrovich Panin trailed behind Olga. Finally, Charles Whitworth, the British ambassador to Russia, emerged out of his carriage.

As the individuals gathered in the grand hall of Zubov's estate, Zubov escorted them to a drawing room where they'll discuss.

Meanwhile, just outside Zubov's estate, positioned near the drawing room, a group of skilled spies organized by Paul's personal assistant were hidden away. They strategically positioned themselves beneath a window, allowing them to listen in on any conversations happening inside the room. Their main role was to signal the forces outside the estate when needed.

About fifty meters away, concealed behind trees and shielded by the darkness of the night, were Emperor Paul of Russia and his personal assistant, Alexei. They were using spy glasses to check on the spies, who gave them a thumbs-up.

"I can't believe it, everyone on the list Napoleon provided is in a meeting in the same place," Paul commented, his anger smoldering beneath his words.

Alexei nodded in agreement, still peering through the spyglass. "It's a risky move for them to gather like this, but it might just be the opportunity we need to confirm their intentions. Should you really be here, Your Imperial Majesty?"

"Of course, Alexei, I need to be here so I can confront them personally."

With that, they waited for a signal.