Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 67: This is Versailles

Meanwhile, as Napoleon II was filling up his candidates for his ministries, Empress Elisabeth was on her way to meet her court ladies.

"I have prepared them for you," Marie Louise said with a tone of excitement as she led her to a room.

Elisabeth was feeling a bit excited to meet her court ladies as those people would be the one taking care of her needs in the Palace of Versailles and other state functions.

The door was opened by the Imperial Guards standing on either side of the door and they both entered.

Inside, Elisabeth saw eight women dressed in a formal clothing, curtsying reverently in front of them.

"There are your court ladies," Marie Louise began. "The Chief Court Mistress, Countess Éléonore de Montreval," Marie Louise continued. "She will oversee your household."

The woman at the front stepped forward and curtsied again, deeper than the others. She was composed, posture straight, hands folded neatly at her waist.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Countess de Montreval said. "It is an honor to serve you. From this day forward, your household, your schedule, and your comfort are my responsibility."

Elisabeth inclined her head in return. "I’m pleased to meet you, Countess."

"I have served the court for twelve years," de Montreval continued. "My duty is to ensure order, discretion, and continuity. If something concerns you, it comes to me first. If something fails, the fault is mine."

Elisabeth noted the phrasing.

"I appreciate that," she said.

The countess turned slightly to the side. "With your permission, Your Imperial Majesty, may I introduce the court ladies?"

Elisabeth nodded. "Please."

"They have been selected from families of standing across the Empire," de Montreval said as she gestured. "Nobility, senior civil households, and provincial courts.

hey will attend you in public, accompany you in private settings, and engage you in conversation. Mind and spirit, not only appearance."

The first woman stepped forward and curtsied. "Lady Camille de Rochefort."

The next followed. "Lady Hélène Vauban."

"Lady Marguerite Saint-Clair."

"Lady Isabelle Fournier."

"Lady Sophie Armand."

"Lady Claire Beaumont."

"Lady Adèle Moreau."

Each introduced herself with the same practiced grace.

Elisabeth studied them quietly. Most were in their mid-twenties. Young, but not careless. The Chief Court Mistress stood apart by age alone, likely in her early thirties, but carried authority without raising her voice. All of them were striking in their own way, though none leaned on it. Their bearing mattered more than their faces.

Elisabeth stepped forward slightly.

"I won’t pretend this is familiar to me," she said. "But I expect honesty, discretion, and effort. In return, you’ll have my respect."

There was a brief pause. Then, as one, the court ladies curtsied again.

"We understand, Your Imperial Majesty," de Montreval said.

Elisabeth let out a small breath and allowed herself a faint smile.

"Then," she said, "I suppose we should begin. Where do we go first?"

Motreval spoke. "Please follow me, Your Imperial Majesty. To your dressing room."

Montreval turned and led them down a quiet corridor.

They stopped before a set of double doors. Montreval opened them.

Inside was a long, high-ceilinged room washed in morning light. Mannequins stood in ordered rows, each dressed in a different gown. Silk, satin, velvet. Pale colors near the windows. Darker tones toward the back.

Along the walls, shelves ran floor to ceiling. Shoes lined them in pairs. Heels, flats, boots. Leather and silk. Some looked unworn. Others looked as if they had been tried once and set aside.

Elisabeth stopped just inside the threshold.

She took a few steps forward, eyes moving from one mannequin to the next.

"How many are there?" she asked.

Montreval answered without hesitation. "Two hundred and thirty-four dresses. Four hundred twelve pairs of shoes."

Elisabeth turned to her. "For what period of time?"

"For the season," Montreval replied.

Elisabeth frowned. "That’s excessive."

Montreval inclined her head. "They are intended for single use."

Elisabeth looked back at the dresses. "Single use?"

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. Once worn publicly, they are removed from rotation."

"Removed?" Elisabeth repeated. "You mean set aside?"

"They are discarded," Montreval said. "That has been court practice."

Elisabeth’s brow tightened. "Thrown away?"

"Yes."

Elisabeth exhaled slowly. "That’s a waste."

Marie Louise stepped closer, her tone gentler. "There are reasons for it."

"Why is it?"

"At court," Marie Louise said, "repetition is read as stagnation. A gown worn twice becomes a topic. A third time becomes commentary. People don’t discuss policy here. They discuss patterns."

Elisabeth looked back at the rows. "They’re still perfectly good."

"They are," Marie Louise agreed. "But perception matters. Reuse suggests economy. Economy suggests weakness. Weakness invites scrutiny."

Montreval added, "It also prevents imitation. Court fashion moves outward. Once worn, designs are copied within days."

Elisabeth crossed her arms lightly. "So we destroy them to stay ahead."

"Yes," Montreval said. "Or they are quietly sold, gifted, or repurposed far from Paris. Officially, they no longer exist."

Elisabeth was silent for a moment.

"I don’t like it," she said at last. "I mean, isn’t it a waste of money?"

"The Royal Household has a budget set aside for this specific purpose," Montreal said.

"But they are expensive," Elisabeth continued. "That money could be used elsewhere."

Montreval did not answer immediately. She waited until Elisabeth’s attention returned to her.

"It already is," she said. "The expense is accounted for long before the dress exists. The cost is absorbed into the image of the Crown."

Elisabeth looked at one of the dresses and brushed her hand over the fabric. "This dress is beautiful. It would be a shame if I wear it tomorrow and never see it again," Elisabeth finished.

The room went silent after her words.

"Anyways, you told me that you’ll go out with Napoleon," Marie Louise recalled. "Le Bon Marché was it?"

Elisabeth nodded in confirmation.

"Then, allow the court ladies to pick a dress perfect for the occasion. You also mentioned you are going there in disguise, there’s a lot to choose from in this dress room."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"You are being formal to me again. Call me by my name, you are part of the Bonaparte family now."

"I apologize," Elisabeth said, then corrected herself. "Marie."

Marie Louise smiled, satisfied, and stepped aside. "Good. Now let them work."