Reincarnated as Napoleon



May 30th, 1801.

Inside the opulent Buckingham Palace throne room, Napoleon occupied the Sovereign throne, an ornate symbol of the British monarchy's grandeur. He sat with an air of authority, his left-hand fingers clasping the armrests of the majestic seal while the right hand in his coat. 

Lord Eamer had arranged for a painter to capture this moment, and the artist, positioned at an easel nearby, was meticulously translating the scene onto canvas. 

He could see the neutral expression on the painter's face. For any Londoners, it would have been a great disrespect for the British to have a French man such as Napoleon sit on the Sovereign Throne. Amusingly, seemed to not care, as if he was doing the job for money. 

Speaking of portraits, since morning, Napoleon had been going on and about iconic places, commissioning a portrait of himself to immortalize his victory over the United Kingdom. The people of France would be pleased.

The next moment, Berthier entered the room and gestured a salute to Napoleon. 

"Your Excellency, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom has arrived and is waiting for you in the white drawing room." 

Napoleon, deep in contemplation of his portrait-in-progress, responded with a brief nod. 

"One moment," he said and glanced at the painter. "How long do you think it will take to complete this portrait?" 

The painter, still maintaining his neutral expression, replied in accented English, "I estimate ten minutes, First Consul."

Berthier nodded in response to Napoleon's question. "Yes, Your Excellency. The Russian diplomat arrived earlier and is also waiting in the white drawing room."

Napoleon considered the timing. "Very well, I'll be there in ten minutes. When I get there, we'll start immediately." 

"Understood, Your Excellency."

With his instructions clear, Napoleon remained seated on the Sovereign throne, patiently waiting for the artist to complete his portrait.

Ten minutes passed swiftly, and as the artist made the final strokes on the canvas, Napoleon rose from the throne. He left the portrait on the easel, knowing that he would return to it later. Adjusting his coat,  he strode purposefully towards the white drawing room.

Upon entering the white drawing room, Napoleon was greeted by a hushed atmosphere. The British Prime Minister, a man in his forties with a solemn expression, sat next to the head of the seat. The Russian diplomat, dressed in the formal attire of his country, sat across, his demeanor composed, and the Spanish diplomat who was the ambassador to the United Kingdom. 

Some staffers from both nations stood behind their respective representatives while Napoleon's staff, Berthier and Bessieres, stood behind a chair. 

He walked over to his seat, which was at the head of the table, and sat there. The British Prime Minister and the Russian diplomat looked at Napoleon, seemingly dissatisfied with him acting mighty. 

"So, since all the parties are here, we shall begin the negotiation that would end the conflict our nation found themselves in. But first, let's introduce ourselves. I'm Napoleon Bonaparte, First Consul of the Republic of France and her representative in this peace talk."

"I am William Pitt, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland," He nodded towards the Russian diplomat, indicating it was his turn to introduce himself. 

The Russian diplomat, a stern-looking man with a well-groomed beard, spoke in a measured tone, "I am Count Andrei Razumovsky, representing the interests of the Russian Empire."

"I'm Don Mariano Luis de Urquijo, a Spanish diplomat, representing the Spanish Kingdom." 

Napoleon acknowledged their introductions with a nod. "Very well. Let us get straight to the matter at hand." He motioned for the documents prepared for the negotiations to be brought forward. "We have before us several key issues to address, including the terms of surrender, the future boundaries of nations, and the restoration of diplomatic relations." 

Pitt and Razumonvsky opened the documents handed to them. 

Napoleon continued. "As stated, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland shall unconditionally grant terms demanded by the Republic of France. This includes ceding all territories and colonies of British North America, Central America and the Caribbean, South America, the Atlantic,  Asia, Australasia, and the Pacific. The detailed list is there. 500,000,000 francs as reparation for damages inflicted during the conflict. And a promise that there shall be no further interference in the affairs of France or her allies by the United Kingdom or its allies. This is non-negotiable." 

Pitt, Mariano, and Razumovsky exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by the assertiveness of Napoleon's demands. After a brief silence, Pitt, the British Prime Minister, cleared his throat and said, "These terms are quite destructive to our country, First Consul."

"Well, I warned you," Napoleon replied with a steely resolve in his gaze.

"The Russian Empire won't ask for a colony or a territory," Razumovsky interjected. "We only demand compensation for the ships that were destroyed during the naval battle in the Baltic Fleet and for the officials who were part of the conspiracy to assassinate our emperor. 400,000,000 rubles."

"As for the Spanish Kingdom," Don Mariano continued, "we want you to return the territory of Gibraltar to us and recognize it, as well as a reparation of 200,000,000 Spanish real." 

Pitt gulped, his throat suddenly dry after hearing their terms. "This is…a harsh demand, there's no way the people of Great Britain would accept this…" 

"Either they accept it or not is not our concern, Mr. Pitt," Napoleon said coldly. "You can decline the terms but that would mean a continuation of the war, and erasing the United Kingdom in the face of the Earth." 

"You mean…" Mr. Pitt's voice quivered.

"Yes, if you decline our terms and continue the conflict and we win, France and her allies would definitely consider annexing Great Britain. You don't want that to happen right? At least our current demand, you still have your own country." 

Pitt's face turned even paler at the mention of the possible annexation of Great Britain. 

"That's way worse, First Consul." 

"So the terms have been given, the only thing Great Britain has to do is either accept it or not. Though I urge you to accept it and you have to make this decision now." 

Napoleon said as he handed him a fountain pen.

Mr. Pitt hesitated for a moment, looking at the pen as if it held the fate of Great Britain in its inkwell. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he contemplated the dire consequences of his choices.

Napoleon's piercing gaze bore into Mr. Pitt, and the room seemed to hold its breath. The Russian diplomat and the Spanish ambassador exchanged anxious glances, sensing the tension in the air.

Finally, with a heavy sigh and trembling hands, Mr. Pitt took the pen. And, with a determined but somber expression, began to sign the documents, sealing the fate of the United Kingdom.

Napoleon took the fountain pen from Mr. Pitt's hands and signed the document. After that, he handed it to Razumovsky who immediately signed the document and handed it to Don Mariano Luis de Urquijo. The Spanish diplomat completed the signatures, and the documents were now officially endorsed by all parties involved.

With that, Napoleon smirked subtly, the British were out and thus made the Republic of France the dominant power in Europe and the world.