Reincarnated as Napoleon II

Chapter 263: New Year at Versailles

Palace of Versailles, France

New Year’s Eve, 1838

The palace felt different on the last evening of the year.

It was not loud. Versailles rarely allowed itself to become truly loud, even during celebration. The order of the palace remained. Guards stood at their posts, servants moved through corridors with practiced care, and lamps were lit one by one as winter darkness settled outside the windows.

But there was warmth in the air.

Not just from the fires.

From people.

From movement.

From expectation.

The year was ending.

And for once, Napoleon II allowed the thought to sit without immediately turning it into a list of reports, decisions, or plans.

Inside the family sitting room, the fire burned bright.

Elisabeth had chosen to keep the evening private. There would be formal greetings tomorrow, with ministers, officials, officers, and court members offering their respects for the new year. Tonight was not for them.

Tonight was for family.

Elsa sat at the table with a sheet of paper in front of her, writing carefully with a concentration that made her look far older than she actually was. Her brows were slightly drawn together, and every few moments she paused, stared at the line she had written, then continued.

Anna sat beside her, though she was not writing.

She had been given paper too, but after several failed attempts at making proper letters, she had decided that drawing was better. At the moment, her page was filled with uneven shapes, several circles, and what she insisted was a horse.

Elsa had already looked at it twice and said nothing.

That was rare restraint.

Napoleon noticed.

He stood near the fire, watching them while holding a cup of warm tea.

Anna lifted her paper suddenly.

"Papa, look."

Napoleon stepped closer.

"What is it?"

Anna smiled proudly.

"A horse."

Elsa pressed her lips together.

Napoleon looked at the drawing.

The horse appeared to have six legs, a very large head, and something that might have been wings, though he chose not to ask.

"I see," he said.

Elsa’s shoulders moved slightly.

Anna turned toward her.

"Don’t laugh."

"I didn’t," Elsa said quickly.

"You wanted to."

Elsa looked away.

"That’s not the same."

Anna frowned, then looked back at Napoleon.

"It’s a good horse, right?"

Napoleon nodded with complete seriousness.

"It has spirit."

Anna seemed pleased with that answer.

Elsa finally looked back down at her paper, though her mouth still twitched slightly.

Elisabeth entered a moment later, carrying a small plate of sweets. She set it down on the table between the girls.

"Only a few," she said.

Anna reached immediately.

Elisabeth moved the plate back by an inch.

"After dinner."

Anna froze.

"But you brought it now."

"So you could see it."

Anna stared at her.

"That’s cruel."

Elsa looked up.

"That is not cruel."

"It is," Anna insisted. "It’s right there."

Elisabeth gave Napoleon a brief look.

He chose silence.

That was the safer position.

Anna noticed.

"Papa?"

Napoleon took a slow sip of tea.

"Your mother said after dinner."

Anna sighed deeply and dropped back into her chair as if betrayed by the whole Empire.

Elsa returned to writing.

Napoleon moved closer to her side.

"What are you writing?"

Elsa covered part of the page with her hand.

"It’s for tomorrow."

"For whom?"

"For you."

Napoleon raised an eyebrow.

"Then I shouldn’t read it yet."

"No."

Anna leaned over.

"I want to see."

Elsa immediately pulled the paper farther away.

"It’s not for you."

"I can still see."

"No."

Anna stretched.

Elsa lifted the page.

Elisabeth intervened before the table became a battlefield.

"Anna, finish your drawing."

Anna sat back down and picked up her charcoal again.

"I need to fix the horse."

Elsa muttered, "It needs more than fixing."

Anna heard her.

"It has spirit."

Napoleon looked away toward the fire.

Elisabeth smiled.

The evening continued gently after that.

Dinner was served in the smaller dining room, not the large formal one. The table was still fine, the plates still arranged with palace care, but the setting felt more relaxed. The girls sat close enough to talk without raising their voices, and Elisabeth allowed Anna to keep one of the sweets beside her plate as long as she promised not to eat it before finishing dinner.

Anna kept glancing at it like it might escape.

Elsa noticed.

"It won’t leave."

Anna looked at her.

"You don’t know that."

"It’s a sweet."

"Yes, and it’s mine."

Napoleon cut into his food quietly, listening more than speaking. There were times when the silence of command followed him even into private rooms. Tonight, it did not. The girls filled the space too easily for that.

Elisabeth looked across the table at him.

"You’re quiet."

Napoleon looked up.

"I’m listening."

"To Anna guarding dessert?"

"Yes."

Anna nodded as if this made perfect sense.

"It’s important."

Elsa sighed.

"Everything is important to you when it has sugar."

Anna smiled.

"Yes."

After dinner, they returned to the sitting room.

Outside, the palace prepared for midnight in its own restrained way. Lamps burned along the corridors. Somewhere far away, musicians rehearsed softly for the small court observance that would come later. Servants carried covered dishes and warm drinks through the halls. The sound of footsteps passed and faded.

Inside the room, Anna finally ate her sweet.

Slowly.

On purpose.

Elsa watched her.

"You’re only doing that because you had to wait."

Anna nodded.

"Yes."

"At least you admit it."

Napoleon sat near the fire while Elisabeth took the chair beside him. Elsa brought her paper over, now folded once, and held it in both hands.

"Can I give it now?" she asked.

Napoleon looked at her.

"I thought it was for tomorrow."

"It is almost tomorrow."

Elisabeth leaned back slightly.

"She has a point."

Napoleon accepted the folded paper.

Elsa stood still as he opened it.

The handwriting was careful. Some letters were slightly uneven, but she had clearly taken her time.

It was not long.

A new year wish.

For him to rest more.

For Mama to smile more.

For Anna to stop running in the hallway.

And for France to be peaceful.

Napoleon read it once.

Then again.

When he looked up, Elsa’s face was calm, but her hands were clasped tightly in front of her.

"It’s good," he said.

Elsa relaxed a little.

"You’re not just saying that?"

"No."

Anna came closer.

"What does it say?"

Elsa took the paper back gently.

"It says you should stop running in the hallway."

Anna’s face changed.

"That’s not a wish."

"It is mine."

Anna looked at Napoleon.

"Papa, is that allowed?"

Napoleon nodded.

"It appears so."

Anna seemed to think about arguing, then decided against it.

"I’ll make one too."

She ran back to the table.

Elsa called after her, "Don’t run."

Anna slowed for three steps, then forgot.

Elisabeth laughed softly.

"She tries."

"She does," Napoleon said.

Anna returned a few minutes later with her own paper. It was not folded. It was also not exactly written.

She handed it to Napoleon with both hands.

"This is mine."

Napoleon looked at the page.

There were several circles, two crooked lines, and the same six-legged horse from earlier, now with what appeared to be a crown.

"What does it say?" he asked.

Anna pointed.

"This is you."

Napoleon looked at the crowned horse.

"I see."

Elsa leaned in and immediately covered her mouth.

Anna pointed at another shape.

"This is Mama."

Elisabeth looked at the round figure with long lines coming from its head.

"I like it."

"And this is Elsa."

Elsa studied her figure.

"Why am I smaller?"

"Because you tell me what to do."

Elsa blinked.

"That doesn’t make sense."

Anna ignored her and pointed at the last shape.

"And this is me."

Napoleon looked carefully.

Anna’s figure had the most lines around it.

"What are those?"

"Snow."

Elsa frowned.

"Why are you the only one with snow?"

"Because I like it."

Napoleon nodded.

"A fair reason."

Anna smiled proudly.

Elisabeth leaned toward Napoleon.

"You should keep both."

"I will."

Elsa looked pleased, though she tried not to show it.

As the evening deepened, the girls grew quieter.

Anna fought sleep first.

She always did.

She sat on the carpet near the fire with her wooden figures, moving them more slowly than usual. Every few minutes, her head dipped, then lifted again as if she had caught herself in battle.

Elsa sat beside Elisabeth, reading from a small book, though she too had slowed. Her eyes lingered longer on each page. She would not admit she was tired.

Napoleon watched them from his chair.

Outside, midnight drew closer.

The palace seemed to hold its breath.

Elisabeth noticed his gaze.

"What are you thinking?"

Napoleon answered after a moment.

"That the year was long."

"It was."

"And the next may be longer."

Elisabeth looked toward the girls.

"Then tonight should be quiet."

He nodded.

"Yes."

A distant bell rang.

Then another.

The sound carried through the palace, low and steady.

Anna lifted her head.

"Is it New Year?"

Elisabeth smiled.

"Almost."

Elsa closed her book and sat straighter, suddenly determined to appear awake.

The bells continued.

Then, from somewhere deeper in the palace, voices rose softly. Not loud celebration, but enough to mark the moment. The year turned in warmth, firelight, and the quiet company of those who mattered most.

Elisabeth reached for Napoleon’s hand.

"Happy New Year," she said.

Napoleon looked at her.

"Happy New Year."

Elsa stood and came over first.

"Happy New Year, Papa."

Napoleon touched her shoulder gently.

"Happy New Year, Elsa."

Anna followed, slower now, rubbing one eye.

"Happy New Year."

Napoleon lifted her onto his lap.

"Happy New Year, Anna."

She leaned against him, already half asleep.

"Can we have snow again tomorrow?"

Elsa sighed.

"That’s not how it works."

Anna mumbled, "Maybe it is."

Napoleon held her carefully, his gaze moving from Anna to Elsa, then to Elisabeth.

The fire burned low.

The bells faded.

Outside, winter held Versailles in quiet darkness.

Tomorrow, the Empire would return.

Officials would come.

Reports would arrive.

The world would move again.

But tonight, for a small stretch of time at the edge of one year and the beginning of another, Napoleon was not standing over a map. He was not reading dispatches from distant shores. He was not measuring the future of nations.

He was here.

With Elisabeth.

With Elsa.

With Anna.

And for that moment, the new year began not with the sound of politics or war, but with warmth, tired children, and a family gathered beside the fire.