Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 78: Returning Back to Versailles
One hour later.
The carriage rolled through the final gates just as the palace came fully into view.
Versailles rose out of the darkness in layers of stone and light. Rows of lamps traced the long facade, every column and window outlined in a steady glow. The light didn’t flicker. It didn’t waver. It washed the palace in gold and pale white, reflecting off polished stone and catching on the edges of statues standing in silent formation along the forecourt.
Elisabeth leaned forward slightly, eyes drawn to it despite having seen the palace countless times before.
The carriage slowed as it crossed the courtyard. Guards stood at attention, their silhouettes rigid against the light. Boots struck stone in clean, even rhythm as one stepped forward to signal the halt.
The carriage stopped.
Napoleon II stepped down first. He turned and offered his hand.
Elisabeth took it and descended carefully, her shoes touching the ground just as the doors of the palace opened.
Her ladies-in-waiting were already there.
They stood in a neat line near the entrance, cloaks pulled close, expressions carefully arranged but eyes bright with relief. One of them stepped forward first.
"Welcome back, Your Imperial Majesties," Montreval said, dipping into a practiced curtsy.
Elisabeth smiled, small and tired but genuine. "Good evening." she said. "I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long."
"Not at all," she replied quickly. "We were just relieved that you have returned well from your trip."
A familiar figure stood slightly apart from them.
Beaumont.
He inclined his head as Napoleon II approached. "Your Imperial Majesty," he said. "Everything is in order. No incidents reported."
"Good," Napoleon II replied. "Thank you for staying."
"Of course," Beaumont said. His gaze flicked briefly to Elisabeth, then back. "Shall I have the household stand down for the night?"
"Yes," Napoleon II said. "Let them rest."
Beaumont nodded once and stepped back, already turning to issue quiet instructions to nearby attendants.
The palace doors were held open.
Warmth spilled out from inside thanks to the HVAC system.
"I think we shall go to rest," Napoleon II said. "But I’ll take a shower first in our bedroom."
"Me too," Elisabeth said.
"Shall we prepare your bath, Your Imperial Majesty?" Montreval, the chief court mistress, asked.
"No, I can take care of it," Elisabeth said. "You are to return to your post. I’ll call you when I need you."
"Yes Your Imperial Majesty," Montreval bowed as she curtsied.
The ladies-in-waiting stepped back in unison, skirts whispering softly against the marble floor as they withdrew to their stations.
Napoleon II and Elisabeth walked side by side through the corridors.
By the time they reached their chambers, the fatigue of the evening had finally caught up. Napoleon II loosened his gloves and set them on a side table as the doors closed behind them.
"I’ll be quick," he said. "You can use the bath first if you want."
"I’m fine, I’ll wait."
Napoleon II nodded and stepped toward the bathing room, closing the door behind him.
Moments later, water began to run.
The showerhead hissed softly as warm water spilled down in a steady sheet, steam rising to fog the glass and stone. He stood beneath it without a rush, letting the heat sink into his shoulders, into his back, washing away the residue of the day—the dust from the streets, the lingering smoke from fireworks, the tension that always followed him outside the palace walls.
He reached for the soap and worked it between his hands.
It slid across his skin as he scrubbed methodically, arms, chest, shoulders. Water carried it away in thin streams, pooling briefly at his feet before disappearing into the drain.
The noise of the palace faded. No voices. No footsteps. Just water and breath.
When he was finished, he shut off the flow and reached for a towel, drying off quickly before wrapping it around his waist. The steam thinned as he opened the door and stepped back into the chamber.
Elisabeth had just finished setting aside her coat.
She looked up—then immediately looked away.
Color rose to her cheeks,
She turned toward the window, suddenly very interested in the night beyond the glass.
"You could have warned me," she said, a beat too late.
Napoleon II paused, then glanced down at himself, realization settling in. A faint smile crossed his face, brief and restrained.
"My apologies," he said calmly. "I didn’t think you were looking."
"I wasn’t," she replied too quickly. Then softer, "I just happened to turn around."
"But do you want to look?" Napoleon II’s voice was closer to Elisabeth’s ears.
She jolted and turned only to see Napoleon II’s face only three inches away from her..
"Uwahh..."
Elisabeth staggered half a step back, bumping lightly into the window frame. Her hand flew up to her chest, heart thudding.
"W-what are you doing?" she asked, trying—and failing—to sound stern.
Napoleon II didn’t move away. He stayed exactly where he was, close enough that she could feel the warmth left over from the bath, the faint scent of soap.
He tilted his head slightly. "You startled yourself," he said. "I didn’t even touch you."
"That’s not the point," she replied. "You appeared out of nowhere."
"I walked," he said calmly. "On the floor. Like a normal person."
She frowned at him, then looked away again, clearly flustered. "You’re doing it on purpose."
"Doing what?"
"This," she said, gesturing vaguely between them. "Standing too close. Saying strange things."
Napoleon II smiled, slow and unapologetic.
"Elisabeth," he said quietly, "don’t play dumb."
She stiffened. "I am not."
"We’re married," he continued, voice light but deliberate. "Not just that—we’re the Emperor and Empress of France. This isn’t exactly... unfamiliar territory."
Her face warmed instantly. "I know that," she said. "That doesn’t mean you get to ambush me."
"Ambush?" Napoleon II lifted up her chin. "So? What if I ambush you? It’s not like you don’t want it right?"
"Aah..." Elisabeth was lost for words.
"Elisabeth, I couldn’t really hold it anymore. I want to do it with you today."
