The sound of horse hooves echoed through the cobblestone streets of Paris, the city's late eighteenth-century charm apparent in every elegant building and archway they passed. Inside the horse-drawn carriage, Napoleon sat beside Ciela, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery, while Ciela's eyes were fixed on him. The soft breeze of the day carried the sweet aroma of fresh pastries from a nearby bakery, blending with the fresh floral fragrance of the streets.

The carriage slowed as it approached the grand entrance of a clothing store, its facade a grand display of fashion and luxury.

Ciela felt overwhelmed at the grandeur of the facade and hesitantly asked. "Master...isn't this place kind of expensive?"

"I told you to not worry about the price, all I need is for you to look formal for our presentation later," Napoleon reassured her.

They stepped out of the carriage and were greeted by a doorman dressed in a black suit, who held open the door for them. The store was bustling with activity, with elegant ladies perusing the latest styles and gentlemen admiring the craftsmanship of tailored suits.

Napoleon led Ciela to a section of the store dedicated to women's clothing, his fingers running through the fabrics of the dresses on display.

"What color do you prefer, Ciela?" Napoleon asked simply.

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Ciela's heart skipped a beat at the question. She had never had the luxury of choosing her own clothing before, let alone having her opinion valued by someone as important as Napoleon. She looked around the section, admiring the various colors and styles.

"I'm not sure, Master," she replied softly. "I'm not really good at styles, why don't you choose for me?"

Napoleon looked through the selection of dresses, running his fingers over the fabrics and examining the different styles. After a few moments, he picked out a casual blue dress made of soft cotton with delicate lace trim.

"I think this will be perfect for you, Ciela," he said, handing her the dress.

Ciela's eyes widened as she took the dress from him. It was simple, yet elegant, and she knew it would be comfortable to wear. "It's lovely, Master," she said, smiling gratefully at him.

As they were browsing clothes, they were approached by a clerk, a middle-aged man with a warm smile on his face.

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"Bonjour monsieur, mademoiselle. How may I assist you?"

"I already picked this dress for her."

"Ah, I see," the clerk said, examining the dress. "It's a fine choice, sir. Would you like any accessories to go with it? Perhaps a hat or a pair of gloves?""What color of gloves do you think would pair best with this dress?" Napoleon asked.

The clerk considered the dress for a moment before responding. "I think a pair of white gloves would complement the dress nicely, monsieur."

"Okay, we'll take that one."

"Very well, monsieur. Now that is settled for the lady, how about you? Are you in need of anything else?" the clerk asked, turning his attention to Napoleon.

Napoleon shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm fine as I am."

The clerk nodded, bowing slightly. "Very well, monsieur. Perhaps you would want to see her in the dress? We have a dressing room reserved for our esteemed customers."

Napoleon looked at Ciela, considering his suggestion. "That would be nice, it's best that I see how the dress fits her properly before we leave."

Ciela nodded in agreement and followed the clerk to the dressing room.

While he waited for their return, Napoleon looked around the store to pass the time. He checked the price tags and he couldn't help but be slightly shocked at their prices. They were expensive and only the nobility could afford it. Fortunately, the monetary reward from the Brienne-le-Château had provided him with enough funds to splurge on Ciela without any worry.

Two minutes later.

Ciela emerged from the dressing room, her strawberry-blonde hair styled in loose waves cascading down her back. The blue dress hugged her slender frame in all the right places, the soft cotton fabric draping elegantly over her developing curves. The delicate lace trim along the neckline and hem added a touch of sophistication to the simple design.

Napoleon's eyes widened in awe as he looked at her. He couldn't believe how stunning she looked in the dress. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she twirled around, the skirt of the dress swishing around her ankles. Despite her young age of thirteen, Ciela had a certain grace and elegance that belied her years. If given four or five years, she would definitely be a beauty to behold, he thought to himself.

"How do I look, master?" Ciela asked, striking a charming pose as she held up the hem of her dress.

"You look good," Napoleon said stiffly, trying to stop his cheek from tugging his lips to form a smile.

"Eh? That's all?"

Napoleon chuckled at her playful pout. "What do you want me to say? I gave you my comment and there it is."Ciela smiled, "I was hoping for something a little more elaborate."

"I think fewer words would be fine," Napoleon said and turned to the clerk. "The dress was beautiful, where can I pay?"

The clerk led Napoleon to the cash register, ringing up the total for the dress and gloves. Napoleon didn't even flinch at the price as he handed over a few notes of the Brienne-le-Château reward. After the transaction was complete, Napoleon and Ciela stepped out of the store, the crisp Parisian air greeting them.

As they walked back to the carriage, Napoleon noticed the way heads turned to look at Ciela, their eyes following her every move.

"For god sake, she is thirteen, what's the problem with those men?" Napoleon thought to himself as he helped her board the carriage.

Ciela noticed the way Napoleon's expression had changed and looked at him quizzically. "Is something wrong, master?"

Napoleon shook his head, smiling reassuringly at her. "No, nothing's wrong."

"Where to monsieur?" the coachman's voice sounded from the front of the carriage.

"University of Paris," Napoleon replied, settling into his seat beside Ciela.

"Okay then,"

the coachman said as he flicked the reins and the carriage began to move.

Ciela leaned back against the plush velvet seat, the rustling of her dress filling the quiet carriage. She looked out the window, taking in the sights and sounds of Paris. There she noticed the mood seemed somber like it lacks the usual vibrancy and liveliness that Paris was known for. Ciela couldn't quite put her finger on why, but she sensed a certain tension in the air.

Napoleon noticed Ciela's expression as she looked out the window. "Is everything alright, Ciela?" he asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Ciela replied, still gazing out the window. "It's just that the city seems different somehow. It's like everyone's worried about something."

Napoleon nodded in agreement. "Yes, the economic situation in France has been difficult lately. It's affecting the mood of the people."

Ciela looked at Napoleon, surprised. She had never heard him talk about the economy before. "What's wrong with the economy?"

"Well, to put it simply, France is in a lot of debt. We've been spending more than we can afford, and it's catching up to us. The government is struggling to balance the budget, and the people are feeling the effects. Prices for goods and services have gone up, and many people are struggling to make ends meet."

Ciela listened intently, trying to understand. "But why did France spend so much in the first place?"

Napoleon sighed. "There are a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest is our involvement in the American Revolution. We supported the American colonists in their fight for independence from Britain, which cost us a lot of money. And then there's the fact that the French monarchy has been spending extravagantly for years. Not to mention the fact that the nobilities pay little to no taxes. Sooner or later, it will blow up in their faces."

"I see..." Ciela mumbled.

"Well, let's not worry about it, it's not our job. We have to get ourselves ready for the presentation."

"You are right," Ciela said, and silence fell over the carriage.

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