"Your Excellency," Bessières called as he spurred his horse forward, and stopped next to Napoleon. "Allow me and the Elite Guards to join you inside."

"Me too as well, Your Excellency," Berthier joined.

Lord Eamer stood there simply, not understanding what they were talking about as they were conversing in French. Napoleon sighed and turned to face him.

"Mayor, I believe it won't be a problem if I let my Elite Guards join me in the city hall, for safety purposes. My Minister of War would also join me as well."

"Not a problem, First Consul. It's understandable that your Excellency would want to ensure your safety in such a delicate situation," Lord Eamer replied. "Please, follow me."

Napoleon, Berthier, and the Elite Guards under the command of Bessieres followed Lord Eamer inside the City Hall. Just like the streets outside, the City Hall was deserted.

Lord Eamer led the way to a spacious meeting room, the centerpiece of which was an intricately carved wooden table that had hosted countless negotiations and discussions over the centuries. Large windows lined one side of the room, allowing natural light to flood in and illuminate the proceedings.

Napoleon took his seat, followed by Berthier and Bessierres. The Elite Guards stood behind them.

Napoleon glanced around and asked. "Hmm…are we waiting for someone? Because I don't see anyone but you, Sir Eamer."

"I'll call them, First Consul," Lord Eamer nodded and stepped out of the meeting room briefly to fetch the British officers and officials who would participate in the negotiations.

Berthier leaned in and spoke quietly to Napoleon. "Your Excellency, what are the chances that Great Britain is surrendering?"

"It's high," Napoleon replied simply. "We have taken their capital, which would be a massive blow to them. Not to mention, there is civil unrest, which would be followed by the economy straining. The only logical move they can pull is to surrender."

"But the British have been quite stubborn lately."

"It's understandable if you put yourselves in their shoes. To me, I would protect Paris at all costs, even if it meant continuing to fight. We shall see how the negotiations unfold."Lord Eamer returned to the room, accompanied by a man in a redcoat. A military general.

"First Consul, this is General Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington," Eamer introduced.

"Wellington," Napoleon repeated, the name was familiar. He led the British Army in the Peninsula War and was one of the Generals who defeated the original Napoleon in the Battle of Waterloo.

To actually meet the man who became a thorn in the original Napoleon is an honor, but it seems that in this world, the tables have turned.

"How do you do, First Consul," Wellington greeted with a bow of his head.

Napoleon looked at Wellington for a while before shifting his gaze to Eamer. "Where are the others? Only him?"

"Yes, First Consul, but don't worry, the Commander-in-Chief of the Forces, the Duke of York, Prince Frederick has given General Wellesley permission to represent Great Britain in these negotiations," Lord Eamer explained.

Napoleon acknowledged the explanation with a nod. "Very well, have a seat, General."

General Wellesley, took a seat on the opposite side of the ornate wooden table, facing Napoleon and his delegation.

Napoleon glanced at Berthier and Bessieres, both of whom were seated beside him, and then turned his attention to General Wellington.

"General Wellesley, before we begin, there is something we wish to clarify. Is the United Kingdom surrendering to France?" I think you should take a look at

General Wellesley shook his head. "That is something I have not been informed about. But we have delivered a little to the parliament and to the King about the situation."

"If that was the case then what are we gathered here in the first place? Are you insulting me, General?" Napoleon said coldly.

"I am not, First Consul. There is a significance to this meeting," General Wellesley said, unfazed by Napoleon's glare. "We propose a ceasefire."

"No, I demand an unconditional surrender of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland."

"That's impossible, First Consul," Wellesley said.

"But Lord Eamer said that you are representing the British government here," Napoleon retorted.

General Wellesley sighed, clearly torn by the situation. "Perhaps there is some confusion, though I represent the British government to a certain extent, there are complexities and considerations beyond my authority. Negotiations of this magnitude require the involvement of our Parliament and the consent of the King—"

"Fucking…" Napoleon slammed his fist onto the ornate wooden table in frustration. "So you are saying…you don't have any power? In that case, why the hell are you sitting there?"

"To negotiate a ceasefire," Wellesley reiterated.

"So no discussion would be made huh if we are talking to a powerless man," Berthier remarked.

"Yeah, it seems like we have wasted our time here," Napoleon said. "What happened to the commander-in-chief? Prince Frederick was it?"

"He left, First Consul."

"What a fucking coward…" Napoleon said mockingly. "Okay, let's discuss something about that ceasefire of yours. You want a ceasefire, okay, we will do that. It's the basics after all. But if I don't hear from the British parliament or the king in two days, I swear I will make Great Britain a third-rate country in Europe. I will make her so poor to the point there'd be no recovery for generations. They will regret this day," Napoleon declared with a cold determination in his eyes.

General Wellesley nodded solemnly. "I understand the urgency, First Consul. I will convey your terms to the British authorities immediately. I will implore them to respond swiftly."

"You better do, General, because I'm running out of patience in this country."

"First Consul, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to expedite this matter. If you will excuse me, I will send a telegraph to Edinburgh—"

"Wait…Edinburgh? Oh, I just realized it…the king and the parliament evacuated? No wonder you are the only one here, General," Napoleon chortled. "Well, since you have told me their location, it's going to be convenient."

***

Fifteen hours later, in Edinburgh.

King George and William Pitt were in an office room of the Palace of Holyroodhouse.

"Your Majesty, the French Republic has captured London. Our army has surrendered and they demand our unconditional surrender. Also, they want us to give them a response in two days, or else, something worse will come down in Great Britain."

"So we have truly lost the war huh?" King George clicked his tongue.

"It appears so, Your Majesty. Not to mention, the anti-war faction in the Parliament is gaining more and more support. It's not in the best interest of Great Britain to continue the war. I plead with you, Your Majesty. We can't go on. It's time that we accept that we lost to France."