Five days later, the Imperial Doctor was ready to proceed with the endoscopy. The necessary preparations had been made, and Napoleon was brought to a discreet medical suite within the palace. Despite his discomfort and the underlying anxiety about the potential diagnosis, Napoleon maintained a composed demeanor.

The doctor, alongside a small, trusted team of medical professionals, was prepared for the procedure. "We'll administer a mild sedative to ensure your comfort during the endoscopy, Your Imperial Majesty," the doctor informed Napoleon. "You might feel drowsy, but you'll be awake."

Napoleon nodded, understanding the protocol. He lay down on the examination table, and a nurse gently administered the sedative through an intravenous line.

As Napoleon settled onto the examination table, the medical team worked efficiently, ensuring everything was in place for the endoscopy. The room was quiet, the only sounds being the soft beeps of the monitoring equipment and the murmur of the medical staff preparing the instruments.

The doctor, wearing sterile gloves and a surgical mask, approached with the endoscope, a long, flexible tube fitted with a tiny camera and light at its tip. "We're going to insert the endoscope through your esophagus into your stomach. You may feel some discomfort, but it should not be painful," he explained to Napoleon.

The nurse, standing by Napoleon's side, monitored his vital signs as the doctor carefully guided the endoscope down Napoleon's throat. On the nearby screen, live images from inside Napoleon's stomach appeared, showing the pink lining of the gastric mucosa.

The doctor carefully inspected the stomach lining, looking for any abnormalities. As he navigated the endoscope, he observed various areas of the stomach, commenting in a low voice to his team. "Notice the erythema and irregularities here in the antral region. We'll need biopsies of these areas."

Using instruments passed through the endoscope, the doctor took small tissue samples from the suspicious areas. "These biopsies will be sent for histopathological examination. They'll provide us with more information on the cellular makeup of these lesions," he explained.

Once the examination was complete, the endoscope was slowly withdrawn. Napoleon, still under the effect of the sedative, was moved to a recovery area to allow the sedation to wear off.

An hour later, after the sedation had worn off, the doctor approached Napoleon with the preliminary findings. "Your Majesty, we've completed the endoscopy and taken biopsies from several areas of concern in your stomach. The visual examination revealed multiple ulcerated lesions and areas of abnormal mucosal texture, particularly in the antral region. These findings are suggestive of a malignant process, but we will need to wait for the biopsy results for a definitive diagnosis."

Napoleon, his expression solemn, listened intently. "What are the implications if the biopsies confirm malignancy?"

"If the biopsies confirm gastric cancer, then there's nothing we can do…We don't have the capability to treat cancer diseases yet. What we can do is alleviate the pain through medication and provide supportive care to maintain your quality of life as much as possible," the doctor explained with a somber tone. "Pain management and nutritional support will be key aspects of your care going forward."

"Shit…" Napoleon cursed under his breath. Though it wasn't confirmed yet, his fear of having stomach cancer is beginning to look more like a reality. "How soon will we have the biopsy results?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"The results should be available within a week. We have expedited the process considering the urgency of your situation," the doctor replied. "In the meantime, we will start you on a regimen to manage any discomfort and address nutritional concerns."Napoleon nodded, "Ensure the utmost discretion is maintained. I will be the one to tell my wife and my sons and daughters if I do have stomach cancer."

"Absolutely, Your Imperial Majesty," the doctor assured him.

As the doctor and his team left, Napoleon was left alone with his thoughts. He reflected on his legacy and the empire he had built, considering the future in a new light. The possibility of his reign being cut short by illness was a reality he now had to face.

Over the next few days, Napoleon continued to fulfill his duties as emperor, and he tried to mask the discomfort and pain he was experiencing while working. However, two days before the results came in, while he was sleeping, a sudden sharp pain struck him in the abdomen, jolting him awake. The intensity of the pain was unlike anything he had experienced before. Napoleon grimaced, clutching his stomach, the agony so severe that it left him momentarily breathless.

He bit the pillow to stifle a groan, trying not to alarm his wife, Ciela, who was sleeping next to him.

Ciela, however, was a light sleeper, and the slight movement and muffled sound from Napoleon was enough to wake her. She turned towards him, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and immediately noticed his discomfort.

"Napoleon, what's wrong?" she asked with concern, sitting up and reaching out to touch his arm.

"It's nothing, just a stomach ache," Napoleon replied, trying to downplay the severity of the pain. He didn't want to worry her unnecessarily, especially before the biopsy results were confirmed.

Ciela, however, was not easily convinced. She knew him too well and could sense that something was amiss. "You know what…I have been noticing that you are always in pain…is there something you are not telling me?"

Napoleon hesitated for a moment, caught between his instinct to protect Ciela from worry and the realization that he couldn't keep his condition hidden much longer. He sighed.

"Ciela, there's something I need to tell you. I have been experiencing stomach pain and I had the doctors check it out. They have found some concerning signs during my recent medical examinations. They suspect it might be gastric cancer, but we are waiting for the biopsy results to confirm."lights

lightsΝοvel Ciela's expression turned from concern to shock, and then to a deep worry. "Cancer?" she whispered, her hand instinctively tightening around his. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Napoleon understood her reaction, after all, she knew how the original Napoleon Bonaparte died, and it was the same disease that Napoleon probably had.

"I didn't want to worry you with uncertainties. I was hoping it wouldn't be as serious as they suspected," Napoleon admitted, his gaze meeting hers sorrowfully.

"When will the result of the biopsy be out?" Ciela asked, trying to steady her voice.

"The results should be available in two days. The doctors have expedited the process," Napoleon replied.

Ciela nodded, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Okay, I'll go with you. Oh my god Napoleon…why are you keeping me out of this."

"Like I said, I don't want you to worry," Napoleon reiterated.

"This is not something you don't tell me…" Ciela said, her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry…" Napoleon said softly.

***

Two days later.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I see that you brought Her Imperial Majesty with you," the Imperial Doctor noticed.

"Yes…she found out," Napoleon said. "So what's the result, doctor?"

The Imperial Doctor took a deep breath, his expression solemn as he prepared to deliver the news.

"Your Imperial Majesty, the biopsy results have confirmed our suspicions," the doctor began. "You have advanced gastric cancer. The histopathological analysis shows a high-grade adenocarcinoma, which is a particularly aggressive form of stomach cancer."

Napoleon's face remained composed, but his eyes reflected the seriousness of the diagnosis. Ciela's hand tightened around his, her face pale with worry.

"What is the prognosis?" Napoleon asked.

The doctor hesitated before responding. "Given the advanced stage and the aggressive nature of the cancer, the prognosis is not favorable. We're looking at a matter of months.

Ciela let out a soft sob, her other hand covering her mouth in shock. Napoleon remained silent for a moment, absorbing the doctor's words.

"No…this is not possible, we did everything to prevent such disease from ever getting to you…" Ciela said. "How is that…"

Napoleon ran a hand over her back, trying to comfort her despite his own turmoil. "Ciela, we've done all we could. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, things like this are beyond our control," he said softly.

Ciela looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No…I can't lose you…I can't…"

"Doctor…can you give us the room please?"