November 25th, 1829.
The French Imperial Family were aboard the steam locomotive's first-class Pullman coach, heading east toward the Champagne region.
The temperature inside the carriage remained steady, unaffected by the cold air outside. Warmth flowed evenly through vents hidden along the lower panels, driven by a closed-loop steam heating system tapped from the locomotive itself.
Across from him, Napoleon I sat with his arms folded, posture relaxed but alert. Marie Louise read quietly, the pages of her book unmoving despite the speed of travel. Elisabeth sat beside the window, watching the countryside slide past—vineyards stripped bare for winter, stone farmhouses, narrow roads now obsolete beside the rails.
"This never gets old," she said.
Napoleon II followed her gaze.
Rows of vines stretched across the rolling hills, pruned and dormant. It was the beautiful sight.
"It's what you expect from this region," Napoleon II said. "This is where the finest wines are produced."
