Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 76: The Fireworks Display

Elisabeth finished the last bite and set her fork down.

"That was filling," she said, wiping the corner of her mouth with the napkin. "I understand why this place is famous."

Napoleon II nodded. He glanced once around the room, then lifted a hand.

The waiter appeared again, prompt and silent.

"Everything to your liking?" he asked.

"Yes," Napoleon II replied. "Bring the bill."

The man returned moments later with a small leather folder. Napoleon II opened it, checked the amount, then placed a few bills inside. No hesitation. No counting twice.

"Keep the change," he said.

The waiter inclined his head, eyes flicking up for a fraction of a second before he caught himself. "Thank you, sir."

They stood and made their way out of the restaurant.

Outside, the night had fully settled.

The street was brighter now. Neon still traced shopfronts in the distance. Electric lights lighting up the streets and roads with its orange glow.

Their carriage waited at the curb. The driver straightened when he saw them.

Napoleon II helped Elisabeth up the step, then followed.

She settled into the seat, smoothing her coat. "Home?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

She looked at him, curious.

"The Champ de Mars," he continued. "There’s a fireworks display tonight."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Fireworks?"

He nodded once. "You’ve seen what science can do with light. Now let’s see what it still does best."

The carriage rolled forward towards their next destination.

Paris moved past the windows in layers of light and shadow. Shopfronts glowed. Upper floors flickered with movement behind curtains. Couples crossed streets arm in arm. A group of students laughed too loudly near a corner café before disappearing into an alley lit blue by neon.

Elisabeth watched it all, chin resting lightly against her gloved hand.

"It feels different at night," she said. "Livelier. Like the city refuses to sleep."

Napoleon II followed her gaze. "It didn’t used to be this way."

The carriage crossed a bridge. The river below reflected broken bands of color, lamps, windows, signs, stretching and twisting with the current.

As they neared the Champ de Mars, traffic slowed. More carriages appeared. Riders on horseback. People on foot moving in the same direction, coats pulled tight, voices rising with anticipation.

The driver reined in near the edge of the grounds.

"This is as far as I can take you, Your Imperial Majesty" he said, turning slightly. "The rest is closed to wheels."

"That’s fine," Napoleon II replied.

He stepped down first, then helped Elisabeth to the ground. The air was colder here, open and wide, carrying the smell of grass and smoke from vendors setting up along the perimeter.

The Champ de Mars stretched out before them, a dark field broken by clusters of light. Lanterns hung from poles. Temporary stands lined the far side. People were already settling in, families spreading blankets, soldiers standing in loose groups, couples finding space along the railings.

At the center, a tall structure rose against the sky. Wooden scaffolds. Launch frames angled upward. Racks of fireworks stacked neatly, their paper casings faintly visible in the lamplight.

Elisabeth slowed.

"So many people," she said.

"They love fireworks," Napoleon II replied. "And this one was advertised heavily."

They moved into the crowd, not pushing, not rushing. People made room without knowing why. A woman adjusted her shawl. A man stepped aside with a polite nod. Children darted past, laughing, chased by tired parents.

They found a place slightly elevated near a low barrier. Clear view of the field. Clear view of the sky.

Elisabeth leaned forward, resting her hands on the rail.

A vendor nearby called out. "Roasted chestnuts! Fresh!"

Another voice followed. "Hot wine! Spiced!"

She smiled. "It feels like a festival."

"It is," Napoleon II said. "But this is an organized event so it may feel like so."

hey waited.

Minutes passed slowly. The hum of conversation rose and fell. Somewhere, a musician played a violin, the tune drifting unevenly before vanishing under louder voices.

Elisabeth looked up at the sky. Clouds moved slowly, thin enough to let stars show through.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Napoleon II glanced toward a clock mounted on a tall pole near the field. Its face was lit clearly.

"Seven twenty," he said.

She exhaled, a small breath of excitement she didn’t bother to hide.

At seven twenty-five, a bell rang once. Not loud. Just enough to be noticed.

The crowd shifted.

People stood. Children were lifted onto shoulders. Conversations tapered off, replaced by expectant silence broken only by shuffling feet.

A man in a dark coat walked out onto the field, carrying a lantern. He checked a list, then spoke briefly to several assistants moving between the racks.

Elisabeth’s fingers tightened on the rail.

At exactly seven thirty, the bell rang again. Twice.

The lantern was raised.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then a sharp hiss cut through the air.

A streak of white shot upward leaving a thin trail behind it.

It burst.

Gold spread across the sky in a wide bloom, sparks cascading downward before fading into smoke.

The crowd reacted all at once.

Gasps. Cheers. Applause.

Another launch followed immediately. Red this time. Then blue. The explosions overlapped, rhythm building, the sky filling with color and sound.

Elisabeth’s head tilted back, eyes wide, observing the scene with awed expression.

Napoleon II stared at the night sky but drifted his gaze to Elisabeth who was visibly enjoying the fireworks display.

The shifting light caught her face at uneven angles. Red along her cheek. Blue at her brow. Gold tracing the line of her nose before fading. Her eyes stayed lifted, focused upward, reflecting each explosion as it came.

She felt it.

Elisabeth turned her head slightly. "Why are you staring at me?" she asked, half amused, half unsure.

He didn’t answer right away.

Another firework went up. A low boom rolled across the field. The crowd reacted, voices rising, but the space between them felt quieter.

Napoleon II stepped closer. Close enough that she could feel the warmth through their coats.

Before she could say anything else, he leaned in and kissed her.

Elisabeth stiffened in surprise, eyes wide for a second, then it was over.

He pulled back just as the sky erupted again, a cascade of gold drowning the moment in light and sound.

She blinked, processing it, hand still resting on the rail.

"I—" She stopped, then let out a short breath. "You could have warned me."

He looked at her calmly. "If I did, you would’ve been ready."

She stared at him, then looked away quickly, cheeks warming despite the cold air.

"That doesn’t make it fair," she said.

"No," he replied. "But it makes it honest. I enjoy this day with you, Elisabeth."

"Me too," Elisabeth said softly, her cheeks reddening.