Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 30: Palace of Versailles

At the Palace of Versailles, a row of servants stood waiting beneath the archway as the carriage came to a stop.

They were arranged by rank and function, not symmetry. Stewards closest to the doors. Footmen a step behind. Clerks holding ledgers at the edge, already tracking arrivals and timing.

Napoleon II stepped down.

A man broke from the line and approached him at once.

He was old. Not frail, but worn in the way of someone who had served too long to waste motion. White hair pulled neatly back. Deep lines carved into his face, not from age alone but from habit—listening more than speaking, watching more than reacting. His coat was immaculate without being new.

"Your Imperial Highness," the man said, bowing just enough. "I am Beaumont. Your chamberlain."

Napoleon II inclined his head. "You’ve been here a long time."

Beaumont allowed a thin smile. "Long enough to know what changes and what endures."

He gestured inward. "If you’ll allow me, I’ll show you to your apartments."

They walked.

Versailles was awake.

Not ceremonially. Operationally.

Servants moved with purpose through the corridors, carrying trays, linens, crates stamped with seals from Paris workshops. Kitchens below sent heat upward through new vents hidden behind decorative panels. Somewhere deeper in the palace, machinery hummed, steady, controlled, almost inaudible unless one knew to listen for it.

Beaumont noticed Napoleon II’s glance.

"The overhaul is complete," he said. "All wings." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

They passed through a grand hallway where workers were installing final fixtures. Tall iron lamps lined the walls, glass housings polished and sealed. Wires ran behind moldings so carefully placed they vanished into ornamentation.

"Electric lines are live," Beaumont continued. "It will power all the appliances and lighting of the palace."

Napoleon II nodded once.

The palace felt different.

Warm, but evenly so. No cold pockets clinging to stone corners. No oppressive heat trapped beneath high ceilings.

"Integrated heating," Beaumont said. "Steam-fed exchangers beneath the floors and along the walls. Adjustable by section. Summer cooling as well. The ducts are concealed within the original structure."

"And plumbing?" Napoleon II asked.

Beaumont’s eyes flicked toward him, measuring.

"Fully installed. Water supply, pressure-regulated. Sewage routed through new underground channels away from the grounds entirely."

They turned down a quieter corridor.

Servants stepped aside without instruction. Everyone here already knew who he was.

They entered a bedchamber.

Light poured in through tall windows. The furniture was understated by Versailles standards.

Beaumont crossed to a side door and opened it.

The bathing room.

Napoleon II stepped inside and stopped.

Porcelain. Clean lines. Fixtures of polished metal. A modern toilet stood against the wall, lever mechanism intact. Beside it, a bidet, properly plumbed and drained. Truly, it is the modern convenience he had hoped to introduce in this world.

Beaumont watched his reaction carefully.

"These installations have become... popular," the chamberlain said. "Among nobles. Merchants as well. Even certain ministries."

"I know," Napoleon II replied.

Royalties. Licensing. Standardized designs distributed under imperial authorization. Entire districts in Paris retrofitted in less than a decade.

It improved the sanitation of the city and other major cities of France are following suit.

They left the room.

As they walked, Beaumont continued his report.

"The guest list is finalized. Foreign ministers have arrived or will arrive by nightfall. High-ranking officials of the Empire. Marshals. Industrial heads—many of whom requested personal acknowledgment."

He paused briefly.

"Several of them owe their fortunes to technologies bearing your seal."

Napoleon II kept walking.

The palace opened outward again into a grand gallery. Tables were being set. Silver polished. Linens aligned to the inch. Musicians rehearsed softly at one end, adjusting tempo.

Invitations had already been sent weeks ago. Even his father and mother would come for the occasion.

But it’ll be for later. For now, he was dying to see where he would work.

"Show me my office," Napoleon II said.

Beaumont did not hesitate.

"This way."

They turned from the gallery into a narrower passage.

"This wing was repurposed," Beaumont said as they walked. "Close enough to the state apartments for access. Far enough for privacy."

They stopped before a set of tall double doors.

Beaumont opened them.

The office was already lit.

Not by candles.

Electric lamps glowed along the walls, diffused through glass shades that softened the light without dimming it.

Napoleon II stepped inside.

The room was large, but not extravagant. A broad desk of dark wood dominated the center, its surface already arranged with ledgers, correspondence trays, drafting instruments. Cabinets lined the walls, labeled and locked. A map table stood to one side. Another corner held shelves of bound volumes—law, engineering, finance.

Everything had a place.

More importantly, everything was reachable.

A telegraph room is just outside your room, if you wish to send a message to specific someone, an officer would be able to cater it," Beaumont explained.

"Thank you, that’s good to hear," Napoleon II said. "Well, this is my office. Most of the important decisions will come from here the moment I ascend to the throne. What do you think about me being the ruler of France?"

Beaumont bowed reverently and replied. "Your Imperial Highness, you are truly a genius of our time, inventing technologies that are far beyond our era. I see only great things ahead for France."

Napoleon II turned slightly, studying the old man.

"Flattery," he said.

"No," Beaumont replied calmly. "It is just my observation. You have afterall, made France an economic superhouse."

"Well, I plan to keep it that way," Napoleon II said and walked over to the table where there is a map. "I want this map replaced with a globe one."

"That can be arranged," Beaumont replied.

"And this map, there’s something wrong with it."

"What is it, Your Imperial Highness?"

"Our country, France, dominated the European continent. It had its color all over it. But we are reduced to our natural frontiers," he said wistfully.

"Your Imperial Highness, you are not saying that you wish to reclaim the lands lost from the war."

Napoleon II shook his head. "No, I’m not going to reclaim it. I’m fine with the border I have now. My interest now lies abroad. I’m going to make sure France will become an empire where the sun never sets."