Reincarnated: Vive La France-Chapter 53: "Paris never brings peace. Only politics."

It was a quiet morning.

Warm bread was still on the table.

The butter sat half-melted in the dish.

Étienne Moreau sipped his coffee, seated at the table beside his mother, who was passing a plate of toast to Renaud.

His little brother was telling a story about school something about a classmate falling asleep during a geography lesson and everyone laughed, even his father, who barely looked up from the newspaper.

"France is so peaceful these days," his mother said, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "For all the talk on the radio, things feel… steady."

Renaud scoffed. "Peaceful is good. Let's hope it lasts longer than my boots."

"I mean it," she said. "It's been so nice having you both here. Like it used to be."

Her eyes lingered on Étienne for a second too long. "I wish it could last a bit longer."

Before he could reply, a sharp voice broke the calm.

"Capitaine Moreau!"

It rang from the street.

All heads turned.

Moreau stood up, frowning. "What the hell?"

They stepped onto the front stoop, the breeze cutting through the morning sun.

Parked just outside the iron gate was a dull gray Citroën Type 23 military truck, the engine still active.

Three soldiers stood at attention.

A fourth, wearing a lieutenant's insignia was already approaching the steps with papers in hand.

Moreau took a step forward, Renaud trailing beside him.

His family stayed behind, hovering in the doorway with tense curiosity.

The lieutenant came to a stop, saluted sharply. "Capitaine Moreau?" ƒгeewebnovёl.com

"That's me," Moreau answered. "What's this about?"

The lieutenant straightened. "You are ordered to report to Paris immediately. A committee has summoned you for a formal hearing based on your latest report. Your leave is terminated, effective this moment. You are to appear the day after tomorrow."

Moreau blinked. "That's… abrupt."

Renaud crossed his arms. "No details?"

"None I can give you, sir," the lieutenant said, then turned to Renaud and saluted again. "Orders are from above. I was told to deliver them and await no response."

Moreau looked down at the sealed letter he was handed.

The envelope bore the seal of the War Ministry.

"Understood," Moreau said flatly.

"Good day, Capitaine." The lieutenant stepped back, climbed into the vehicle, and with a low growl of the engine, the car turned and disappeared down the street.

Renaud exhaled. "Well. There goes the rest of the vacation."

Moreau folded the letter and slipped it into his coat pocket. "Paris again. Of course."

"You think it's about the purge? Or that other business we never finished digging into?"

"No clue," Moreau muttered. "But they want something. And they want it fast."

Renaud shook his head. "I don't like it. When the army asks questions in a hurry, it usually means someone's about to be thrown under a bus."

He turned toward the house. "So, what're you gonna tell them?"

Moreau glanced back at his family still standing in the doorway. "Not the truth."

His mother looked worried the moment he returned to the table.

"What did they want?"

"An exercise in Paris," he said casually, unbuttoning his jacket. "Nothing serious, but they need an experienced officer present."

"During your leave?" she frowned. "That's ridiculous. You've only just arrived. Can't they find someone else?"

Moreau tried to smile. "It's just a quick call. I'll be back before you know it."

"You always say that."

This time, he had no reply.

His father, still sitting but now watching carefully, said quietly, "If they're calling you like this, it must be important."

Moreau didn't respond.

"Come," his father said to his wife. "Don't make a scene. The boy's a soldier."

She bit her lip but nodded, brushing a crumb from the table.

Moreau excused himself and went upstairs to pack.

He folded his uniform, placed his pistol belt back in the leather case, and was just about to button up his satchel when the door opened behind him.

His father stood there, arms crossed, tie loose at the collar.

"Everything alright, son?"

Moreau turned. "Yeah. Just another routine call."

His father looked at him for a long moment. "You know I wasn't born yesterday."

Moreau hesitated. "It's not something I can talk about."

His father stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Étienne. I might be older, but I'm not dead. I still have friends. In Paris. If things go south if you find yourself stuck don't hesitate to reach out. I won't ask questions. But I'll move mountains."

Moreau felt something tighten in his chest. "Thank you, Papa. But it's alright. I can handle it."

His father didn't speak again.

Instead, he stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've changed. There's something heavier about you. I hope you're not carrying too much alone."

"I'm fine," Moreau said quietly.

But he hugged his father anyway.

And held on longer than expected.

Downstairs, Renaud was already waiting with his coat slung over his shoulder and a loaf of bread stuffed under his arm.

"What's that?" Moreau asked.

"Souvenir," Renaud grinned. "Your mother wouldn't let me leave without it."

His mother came forward, hugging Moreau tightly again. "Promise me you'll write. And this time, no excuses."

"I will."

His little brother handed him a small piece of folded paper. "I drew you something. For your barrack."

Moreau unfolded it. It was a rough sketch of a tank. With wings.

"Flying tank?" he laughed.

"You said you're in charge now. So I made you something better."

"I love it," Moreau smiled. "I'll pin it to my desk."

They stepped out the door.

As they walked toward the station, Renaud muttered, "You think this is a good thing?"

Moreau stared straight ahead. "No idea. But we'll find out soon enough."

Renaud adjusted his cap. "Paris never brings peace. Only politics."

Moreau exhaled slowly. "Then we better play their game well."

And with that, they left Lyon.

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(So guys how are you liking the novel so far. Yes it might be slow paced but that is how I feel taking this story would bring out its potential. Anyways enough of my yapping, I hope you guys can leave comments and feedback through which I can improve my Novel.

Thank you

Clautic)