Heading off to Southern France

Immediately following his father's directive, Francis exited the room, leaving Napoleon and Lucien immersed in their grave discussion. Upon stepping into the corridor, he was slightly taken aback to find Tristan leisurely leaning against the wall, an apple in hand.

"Francis," Tristan began, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern as he took another bite of his apple. "What grave matter has father entrusted upon you?"

"It's a dire situation unfolding in the southern regions of France," Francis divulged, his tone laced with the weight of responsibility. "An outbreak of what is believed to be an influenza virus. Father wishes for me to personally oversee the crisis management there."

Tristan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his previous casual demeanor now replaced by a more serious one as he processed the information. "That sounds perilous, brother. Are you sure about this?"