Fast forward to June 18, 1826, exactly eleven years later.

During those 11 years, Europe entered a completely different era from the turbulent 20 years that preceded it. Very little happened.

On May 5, 1821, After six years of imprisonment, Napoleon died in silence on the desolate island of St. Helena.

And on September 16, 1824, the emperor's old rival, King Louis XVIII, who had restored the Bourbons in France, died contented at the Tuileries, succeeded by his brother, The Comte artois, as Charles X.

Old Europe is alive again.

The Bourbon Restoration, along with the three monarchies that made up the Holy Alliance -- Russia, Austria and Prussia -- staunchly defended the orthodox monarchy and tried to make everything look exactly as it was.

More than twenty years of history, from 1789 to 1815, seemed to have been wiped clean, as if nothing had happened, and nothing had been associated with such unsavoury names as Robespierre and Napoleon.

Nothing seemed to disturb the luxurious, tranquil life of schonbrunn Palace.

It was a day when the warm early summer air was meekly echoing in the grand gardens of Schonbrunn Palace, where geometric flower beds and lawns were as beautiful as ever.

A fair-haired teenager strolls in the midst of this intoxicatingly warm morning.

He wore a checked wool coat with a lapel collar, a high-necked shirt, velvet breeches, and moccasins with silver buckles.

These exquisite clothes, coupled with his comely face, is worthy of a handsome young man.

He walked slowly until at last he came to the top of the great garden, on which stood a large building. This was the highest point of schonbrunn Palace -- the Arc de Triomphe.

Standing under the lofty pillars overlooking the whole court and garden, the boy said nothing and seemed to be in deep thought.

It was the liveliest time of the year, and he was at the liveliest and most radiant age of a man's life, but his face was too calm now to give one the vigour of youth, and rather a melancholy unbecoming to his age.

But if you know who he is, this is no surprise.

He was the unfortunate heir to the French throne, to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, now trapped in the country of his mother's birth, and his melancholy was justified.

But no one could have imagined that the soul in this lean, lithe body, with its remarkable lineage, had already been replaced once on that fateful day.

Today, after spent 11 years with a new identity, ChuYing, Edgar, or already accustomed to himself in the era of, relying on his reading because hobbies and learning to the knowledge of history, and of contempt for children, people with his own he perfectly conceal from another country, another era's secret, He lived in the magnificent Habsburg court as Duke Of Leichstedt.

But he could not get used to living under house arrest.

No matter how expensive the cage, it is still only a cage.

The habsburg emperor did not, to be fair, make much of his life, though it could no longer be compared with the luxuries of his time as dauphin of the French Empire. Here he lacked everything, a butler, a tutor, and a staff of servants, except the freedom of action.

He had to crouch in the Habsburg palace, bask in the glory of royalty, and crawl as a hostage.

In this unfree air, the poor Roman king of history lived only twenty-one years,He died of tuberculosis in 1832, and chuying himself did not know how long he could survive, or was driven mad.

In order to cope with this resentment, from the earliest days of his new identity, he had forced himself to find other entertainments, to read books and newspapers, to learn eagerly, and to survive.

Such a life, and when should end?

The boy raised his head again and looked at the blue sky and white clouds above Schonbrunn Palace. He did not know how many times he asked himself.

In any case, it was necessary to escape, not for the glory of the Napoleonic house or for the glory of France, but for the freedom that was due to him. This noble court must not be his home, it should bury the Habsburgs, not the heirs of the French Empire.

"Your highness,"

While he was still in a trance, a tall man in military uniform came up to him, saying hello.

Agron withdrew his gaze and looked at the approaching man.

He was a tall, stocky man with a boxy face, typical of Germanic soldiers. He was Captain Foresti, one of his own tutors.

On lung to accept education after the age of egg, Franz emperor, according to members of the royal family practice to education grandson to Edgar long prepared a complete set of education group, have been around for several years to this team in Edgar's side, flabbergasted to grant to him, carefully earnestly to education, he cultivated his learning and proper manner.

Of course, in addition to his aristocratic education, the team had the tacit task of turning Aigron into a Germanized aristocrat and keeping tabs on themselves.

Despite the fact that none of them could change it, he got along quite well with them, and apart from the occasional clash of ideas in class, he was their favorite pupil -- at least Agron was confident of that.

Under his gaze, the man came to his side and bowed respectfully to the boy. "Are you meditating again? Shall we wait a little longer?"

Those around him had long been used to his occasional brooding moments, and some even thought his somber Highness more charming than usual.

"No, just staring at the scenery." Agron shook his head. "Start at the appointed time."

"All right." The captain nodded.

Forresti, an officer in the Austrian Imperial Army with considerable military experience despite his low rank, was responsible for Aiglon's military education.

Notably, in 1809 he fought at the Battle of Wagram, where he was seriously wounded and nearly killed.

But the captain never hated Napoleon or Eglon for this reason. It seemed to him a natural thing for soldiers to be wounded in battle, and he even had a vague admiration for the Emperor Napoleon -- a soldier's admiration for a soldier.

The captain opened his hand and showed the two practice swords he held.

And handed the hilt of one of them to Agron.

Yes, today, as usual, they will have fencing practice here.

For many years he had been teaching Aigron strictly military knowledge and swordsmanship, and he was a very good swordsman in the army.

Learn swordsmanship from him, something Agron himself urged years ago.

He knew that the early death of the Roman Kings was also related to their poor health, so to avoid this misfortune, he decided to exercise from the very beginning of his education.

In order to make this request acceptable to the court, he decided to use swordplay as an excuse -- after all, it was more understood and approved by the court than gymnastics or other forms of physical fitness.

His innocuous request was quickly granted by the court, and from then on he began to practice every day or two with the captain, who was a master of swordsmanship.

Although the captain had taken great care to restrain himself, at first the young boy almost always fell black and blue.

But Aigron didn't complain. After each fall, he would get up again and continue the rigorous contact, refusing to let up.

With the passage of time, his height gradually increased, and his movements began to become more agile and powerful. Even when two people were fighting, he was able to parry and counter attack, making great progress.

The people in the palace were amazed by his Royal Highness's amazing strength of will.

Aigron took a sword from the captain's hand and, as usual, each stepped back a couple of steps before saluting and raising his hand.

Aigron narrowed his eyes slightly, stared at his opponent, bent his upper body slightly to collect his breath; The captain, on the other hand, seemed quite calm and simply stood looking at his distinguished student and beckoning him to attack.

Aigron leaned forward, then lunged, raised his sword and thrust it straight into his opponent's chest.

The captain parried his sword, then gave a great heave, then cut diagonally.

Aigron sidled out of the way to avoid the captain's attack, then stabbed him again in the shoulder between his movements.

In this way, the two men fought each other with their swords, and Aigron kept using his steps to attack his opponent as he moved.

Captain Presti calmly fuses his attacks, firing back every now and then, so the students can learn how to respond.

As the two men moved, weaving between the pillars, Agron became more and more comfortable with the fight, in a state of ecstasy in which he had nothing to worry about but the thrill of the competition.

But the troubles of the world could not leave him, not even for a moment.

'Will you please stop, Your Highness? The two men, in the midst of a fierce battle, heard a greeting.

Captain Forresti was the first to stop and quickly retreated, and Agron reluctantly ended his practice.

He looked around and saw that it was Count Maurice von Dietrichstein, who was by his side the superintendent of education and the emperor's true guardian. UU reading www.uukanshu.com

The count was thin, with a rather long face, and looked a rather serious man.

He was a man of great learning and grace, and even a close friend of Beethoven.

In charge of Agron's education, he was very strict and scrupulously dutiful, but the two did not get on badly.

"What's the matter?" Agron asked a little impatiently.

"I am sorry to disturb your pleasure, my Lord," said the count, bowing slightly, "but important business now forces me to interrupt your practice."

"All right, that's all right." Agron replied with a look of obvious displeasure. "What is it?"

"His Royal Highness Prince Metternich wishes to see you --" replied the count.

Metternich.

The name, and his position as Prime minister, were certainly enough to interrupt Aigron's fun.

His Highness is under no obligation to wait for him.

"All right, then." Agron had no expression on his face and showed no emotion to anyone.

He handed his sword to Captain Foresti. "Thank you for your guidance."

"Your Highness, you have made great progress. Although you are no match for me now, I believe that with a little more time, you will surely surpass me." Captain Foresti's face was proud. "You're my only student, but I think I can be very objective in my judgment."

Agron looked at the captain.

It's always nice to be around soldiers.

Besides, who doesn't like compliments?

"Thank you." He answered dryly.