Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 68: My Secretary is my Cousin?
Back at the King’s Quarters in Versailles.
"Charles-Louis Napoléon Bonaparte," Napoleon II repeated the name Armand suggested to be his secretary. In his previous life, he remembered Charles-Louie as the last Emperor of the French Empire. A nephew of Napoleon I. He hasn’t interacted with him a lot so he lacked information about his current life in this alternate world.
"Tell me about him," Napoleon II said. "Why did you suggest my cousin to be my secretary?"
"Tell me about him," Napoleon II said. "Why did you suggest my cousin to be my secretary?"
Armand adjusted the folder in his hands before answering.
"Because he fits the role," he said. "Not because of who he is, but because of where he stands."
Napoleon II turned slightly. "Explain."
"Charles-Louis has never been at the center," Armand said. "Close enough to observe. Far enough to stay quiet. That matters more than people think."
"That doesn’t make him competent."
"No," Armand agreed. "His education does. Administration, history, languages, and he is also currently a politician?"
"A politician at his age?" Napoleon II said. "Isn’t he only a few years older than me?"
"Three," Armand said. "And yes. Not an ambitious one. More... tolerated than celebrated."
Napoleon II huffed quietly. "That sounds reassuring and concerning at the same time."
"It should," Armand said. "He entered politics early because he had nothing else to do. No command. No court appointment. No patron pushing him forward."
"So he waited."
"He learned," Armand corrected. "He sat in committees. Read budgets. Watched how men argue when they don’t have power and how they behave when they do."
Napoleon II leaned back against the desk. "Does he speak?"
"When needed," Armand said. "And when he does, people listen because he doesn’t waste it."
"That’s rare."
"It is," Armand agreed.
Napoleon II tapped the edge of the table with his finger. "What about temperament? Pressure?"
"He doesn’t panic," Armand said. "He withdraws. Thinks. Comes back with an answer later."
Napoleon II tilted his head. "That can be dangerous in my office."
"It can," Armand said. "Unless you want someone who tells you what you need to hear, not what fills silence."
Napoleon II considered that.
"And loyalty?" he asked.
Armand met his eyes. "To the family. To France."
"I see," Napoleon II muttered under his breath. "Well, if he can do your job then I have no complaints. formally summon him to the palace," Napoleon II finished. "Tomorrow morning."
Armand nodded. "I’ll see to it."
"Make it clear this isn’t ceremonial," Napoleon II added. "I want him here to work, not to be impressed."
"He’ll understand," Armand said. "He usually does."
Napoleon II pushed himself off the desk and walked toward the window.
"A secretary sees everything," he said. "Schedules, drafts, disputes, half-formed decisions. I don’t need someone who agrees with me. I need someone who notices what I miss."
"That’s precisely why I chose him," Armand replied.
"You have been a great help Armand," Napoleon II said.
"I serve the Bonaparte family and the Empire, Your Imperial Majesty. It’s only natural that I do what you command. I’ll return here tomorrow morning, with Imperial Highness and the fifteen ministers."
Napoleon II nodded. "Thank you. You may leave now."
Armand inclined his head once more and turned toward the door. He paused briefly, as if considering something, then thought better of it and left without another word.
The room settled into quiet.
Napoleon II remained by the window, hands clasped behind his back. The gardens below were orderly, trimmed into clean lines. Everything in its place. It was how he preferred things. Clear structure. Clear roles.
Fifteen ministers.
A new cabinet.
And now, a secretary who would sit at the center of it all.
He returned to the desk and sat down, pulling the folder closer. Tomorrow would be crowded. Introductions. First impressions. Men measuring him, even as he measured them back. He would hear their voices, watch how they spoke, how they avoided questions, how they answered them.
He reached for his pen.
One by one, he began writing short notes beside each name Armand had selected.
When he finished, he closed the folder and set it aside.
"Tomorrow," he said quietly.
A knock sounded at the door.
Napoleon II did not look up from the desk. "Come in."
Beaumont’s voice followed. "Your Imperial Majesty. Her Imperial Highness, Marie Louise."
The door opened again. Marie Louise entered without ceremony, her steps familiar in the room. Beaumont closed the door behind her and withdrew.
"You’re still working," she said, glancing at the papers on his desk.
"Trying to," Napoleon II replied. "What brings you here mother?"
She moved closer, resting her hands lightly on the back of a chair. "Elisabeth is preparing."
He looked up. "Preparing?"
"For your visit to Le Bon Marché," Marie Louise said. "She’s choosing something appropriate. Nothing too formal. She’s nervous, but she won’t say it."
"That’s good," Napoleon II said. "Let her take her time."
Marie Louise smiled faintly. "She’ll be ready soon."
Napoleon II leaned back in his chair. "I want the trip to be just us."
Marie Louise’s expression shifted, just slightly. "Just the two of you?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. "That won’t be possible. An Empress doesn’t move without attendants. At least two court ladies, a guard detail—"
"I don’t want them," Napoleon II said.
Marie Louise crossed her arms. "You know how this looks."
"I do," he said. "That’s why I want it this way."
She studied him for a moment. "This isn’t about appearances, is it?"
"No," Napoleon II said. "It’s a date."
The word hung there.
Marie Louise exhaled quietly. "You’re stubborn. Like your father."
"There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of her mother. Besides, there’ll be guards watching over us. We’ll be fine."
"Okay, if you say so, Your Imperial Majesty," Marie Louise teased.
"Mother," Napoleon II chuckled.
"Well, I just came here to inform you. So you should be ready as well. I’m going back to the Tuileris Palace. Enjoy your trip. And, your father has asked me to tell you that he’s waiting for his island."
"Don’t worry, it’ll be soon."







