As the echoes of chaos subsided within the hallowed halls of Versailles, an air of anticipation settled upon the palace grounds. The morning sun, casting a gentle glow upon the scene, illuminated the gathered masses that stretched far beyond the eye could see. Thousands of Parisians, their hearts filled with hope and longing, awaited the appearance of their king. Among them, whispers of uncertainty mingled with murmurs of expectation.

Commander-in-chief of the Parisian National Guard, Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, stood at the side of King Louis XVI, their figures silhouetted against the ornate doorway leading to the grand balcony. As they prepared to step forward, the weight of the moment hung heavy upon them. The fate of the monarchy and the aspirations of an entire nation rested upon this single act.

The king, his face etched with weariness and trepidation, glanced at Lafayette, seeking reassurance in his steadfast gaze.

Lafayette, sensing the king's inner turmoil, maintained his composed demeanor, his voice gentle yet persuasive.

"Your Majesty, just tell the people that you will willingly return to them in Paris," he said. "Assure them that their concerns are heard, their grievances acknowledged."

"And my family will be safe right?" King Louis asked.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Lafayette reassured, his words carrying a sense of conviction. He glanced at Queen Marie Antoinette, who followed behind King Louis. The weight of the people's grievances, primarily directed towards the queen due to her extravagant expenditures, had earned her the derogatory nickname of Madame Deficit. Regrettably, this label had become a symbol of the revolution, as it epitomized the stark class divide that Queen Antoinette represented, making her a deeply resented figure in the eyes of the people.

As they arrived at the balcony, Lafayette extended his hands towards the ornate railing, beckoning the King to step forward. King Louis XVI, filled with a mix of apprehension and a glimmer of newfound resolve, obliged and walked to the edge of the balcony. Queen Marie Antoinette, poised and determined, made a move to follow her husband, but Lafayette gently raised his hand, a silent gesture to halt her.

"Your Majesty, your part will come later. For now, the people yearn to hear directly from their King," Lafayette advised.

"Understood," Queen Marie said.

***

As King Louis XVI stepped forward to address the waiting crowd, his eyes scanned the sea of faces, each filled with a unique blend of desperation, anger, and longing. The thousands of Parisians who had gathered on the palace grounds held makeshift weapons, a stark reminder of the volatility that lingered beneath the surface. Yet, in the presence of their king, an air of restrained anticipation enveloped them.

The King took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage within him. His voice, though tinged with fatigue, resonated with a quiet authority as he spoke, his words carrying a sincere plea for unity.

"My loyal subjects, I stand before you humbled by the weight of your grievances, and I acknowledge the pain and suffering many of you have endured," he began, his voice projecting over the crowd.The onlookers leaned forward, straining to catch every word, their eyes locked on the King, awaiting his assurances. A hush settled over the gathering as the King continued.

"I have heard your cries for change, for a fairer society that values each and every one of its citizens. I promise you that I am not blind to your struggles, and I am committed to addressing the inequalities that have plagued our nation."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, mingled with expressions of surprise. The King's words carried a newfound sincerity that resonated with the people. His acknowledgment of their suffering, and their desire for a better life, began to soften their hearts.

The makeshift weapons that had once been held tightly in their hands were now slowly lowered, the tension in the air giving way to a fragile sense of hope. They yearned for a leader who understood their plight and was willing to take action.

King Louis XVI extended his arms, palms open, as a symbol of trust and reconciliation. His voice, infused with genuine empathy, reached out to their souls.

"Let us forge ahead as a united nation, bound together by a common purpose. Your concerns shall no longer be disregarded or ignored. In a testament to my unwavering dedication, I shall embrace power-sharing with the National Assembly and fully recognize a constitution that will safeguard the fundamental rights and liberties of all citizens," proclaimed the King, his voice unwavering and resolute.

The crowd erupted into a mixture of cheers and applause, their voices echoing through the expansive palace grounds. It was a moment of catharsis, the release of pent-up frustration, and the realization that their voices had been heard. The Parisians looked at each other, their eyes filled with a glimmer of hope, as the weight of their burdens seemed to lighten.

"Vive le Roi!"

"Vive le Roi!"

The people chanted, their voices carrying across the palace grounds, resonating with a fervor that seemed to shake the very foundations of Versailles. The chant swelled, growing stronger and more impassioned with each repetition.

King Louis XVI, standing on the balcony, was taken aback by the overwhelming display of support. So that was it, if only he had taken action sooner and listened to their pleas, this wouldn't happen.

However, as time flew by, the people remembered one thing they loathed. The Queen.

"We demand to see the Queen!"

"Show us the Queen!"

The chant rippled through the crowd, gaining momentum as it echoed from one voice to another. The demand to see the Queen, Marie Antoinette, reverberated through the palace grounds, reaching the ears of Lafayette and King Louis XVI. A mix of concern and hesitation crossed their faces, recognizing the deep-seated resentment towards the Queen among the people.

Queen Antoinette, who was just behind the balcony, somberly looked down as she kept hearing her name being called out angrily by the mobs.

"Your Majesty," Lafayette spoke. "It's time for you to show yourself to the people. They long to see you and hear from you."

Queen Marie Antoinette took a deep breath, gathering her composure despite the weight of the people's animosity towards her. She stepped forward, her head held high, determined to face the crowd and address their grievances.

"Very well."

Lafayette nodded, guiding Queen Marie Antoinette to the balcony's edge. The crowd, still chanting for her presence, fell into an expectant silence as they caught sight of the Queen. Their anger and frustration hung palpably in the air, casting a tense atmosphere over the gathering.

To them, she was the symbol of the ancien régime, the embodiment of extravagance and privilege that had fueled their resentment for far too long. As Queen Marie Antoinette took her place beside King Louis XVI on the balcony, she braced herself for the torrent of anger that awaited her.

However, minutes stretched into an uncomfortable silence as the people's initial anticipation turned to bewilderment. Instead of the fearful, spoiled woman they had expected, they were confronted with a surprising sight. Standing before them was a woman, her gaze unwavering, radiating an air of defiance and unyielding pride. The crowd hurled contemptuous words, some even pointing muskets in her direction, yet she remained steadfast, her arms crossed over her chest, unruffled by their animosity.

In a single gesture, the tides of anger and hostility shifted, leaving the crowds awestruck. Their weapons, once held with fury, now lowered with hesitation as a hushed silence fell upon them. In this remarkable turn of events, Lafayette, ever perceptive, skillfully allowed the mob's fury to dissipate, biding his time for a moment of utmost impact. With a flourish that bordered on the theatrical, he gracefully knelt before the queen, his lips pressing against her hand in a reverent kiss. The demonstrators caught between conflicting emotions, responded with a restrained but undeniable reverence. A cheer rose from their midst, echoing through the air, its words carrying a significance that had long eluded the queen's ears.

"Vive la Reine!"

While these displays of goodwill momentarily diffused the tension, astute observers sensed that the scene on the balcony held only fleeting significance. The crowd, though momentarily appeased by the royal gestures, remained steadfast in their demand for a more substantial commitment. Their insistence echoed through the air, refusing to be drowned out by temporary pleasantries. The people made it clear: the royal family must accompany them back to Paris, for only through sustained action could true resonance be achieved.

***

Around one o'clock in the afternoon on October 6, 1789, an immense crowd escorted the royal family and a contingent of one hundred deputies back to the capital, guided by the armed National Guards forging the path ahead.

However, as the minutes ticked by, a sense of bewilderment enveloped the royal family. Their gaze fell upon an unexpected sight: the crowd seemed to be veering away from the waiting carriage. Perplexed, King Louis XVI turned to Lafayette, seeking an explanation.

"Your Majesty," Lafayette responded, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, "we have a different mode of transportation in mind. Behold!" Lafayette directed the king's attention to the nearby train station, where a majestic steam locomotive stood proudly. People occupied every available space on the locomotive, perched on the roof and clinging to its sides, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the royal family.

"Don't worry, that steam locomotive has a cabin inside befitting of your royal status. Moreover, it'll be more comfortable than your royal carriage, and safer," Lafayette assured.

Meanwhile, among the crowds, there was a lady disguised as one of the rioters, watching the royal family boarding the steam locomotive first-class car.

"How interesting, in real history, the king and his family would return to Paris with the mobs in their royal carriage but Master's invention seemed to have changed it. I shall report everything to my Master, he must be eager to hear from me… fufu…"