The next morning, every European capital read the same sentence in different languages.
"Marshal Moreau has declined to comply with the Westminster Appeal."
But France didn't wait for the newspapers.
They erupted on instinct.
Not from orders.
Not from radio.
From pride.
From something they hadn't felt in decades.
From something their fathers hadn't dared name since Verdun.
This was no manufactured euphoria.
It rang through Lyon's cafés, crackled over radios in Brest, continued down the boulevards of Paris where the tricolor hung.
Moreau had returned from London not with signatures or treaties but with proof.
That he had defied the world.
And the world blinked.
The headline on Le Matin read simply.
"L'Honneur Repris."
Honor reclaimed.
By midday, Marseille had emptied into its port, ships blasting horns in unison.
In Nice, children chalked maps of Spain on sidewalks, labeling towns no one had bothered to name two months ago.
