It was a lovely day, but worst of all, Revolutionary france was on the lookout for Him, If I mean him, I mean Royal France!

he’d Be at the coast at Brittany, his state, looking out the view and to the clear English Channel. He’d sigh to himself as he’d pull out one of his chairs out of nowhere, and sit on it, his countryball self putting weight on the chair.

”if there was one thing, one thing to regain my power!” he’d grit his teeth angrily, yes, he starved his people, done bad stuff, but he knew if he doesn’t do something about this, and regaining his land, he could get beheaded on the Guillotine, the newly invented Execution process made by Revolutionary France. And the rebellion people. As he sat there, he’d wonder, ‘Why did I do this?’ And ‘how will I stop this?’ He’d just sit there, wondering, as he stared out at the vast blue ocean of the English Channel.