Time swiftly moved on, and soon it was March 1860.
At this time, it was early spring, and the temperature in Paris had greatly improved compared to a month earlier. The snow piled on the roadside had long melted, and the willows planted in the gardens had sprouted new buds.
Paris, having weathered the cold winter, seemed like a welcoming young lady eager to display its vitality and attract visitors from all directions.
Countless tourists, both domestic and foreign, after a harsh winter, once again poured into this prosperous and culturally rich land. The once empty streets were now crowded with visitors of different faces and skin colors.
The Tuileries Garden, which had been closed for almost the entire winter, was now reopened, with countless young men and women lingering here, pledging lifelong companionship to each other.
However, at such a lively and joyful time, Jerome Bonaparte living in the Tuileries Palace, could not feel happy.
