Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 79: Blissful Morning

December 13, 1829.

At the king’s bedchamber of Versailles. Napoleon II’s eyes fluttered open as sunlight streamed through the slits between the curtains of the window. He felt something heavy on his chest and when he looked to check, his eyes widened.

Elisabeth’s head rested against him, hair spread loosely across his skin. One arm lay draped over his torso, her hand curled near his ribs. She breathed soundly, like she was having a good night’s sleep.

And then, events from night surfaced in Napoleon II’s mind. The teasing into doing the deed had actually happened. He could remember it vividly, her moans, her gasping breath when he inserted it. It was a surreal experience for him.

They actually did it. And that’s the reason why she was bare naked with only the quilt covering her figure.

As much as he enjoyed staring at her ethereal face sleeping over his chest, there’s work to do. The ministers that he had appointed and his cousin would be coming over this morning. He has to prepare for work.

So he shifted carefully.

Napoleon II slid his hand beneath Elisabeth’s shoulder, slow enough that the sheets barely stirred. He eased his chest out from under her weight inch by inch, keeping his breathing steady so she wouldn’t wake. Her brow tightened for a moment, a faint protest, then smoothed again as she settled onto the pillow. The quilt slipped, and he drew it back up without looking, tucking it around her shoulders the way one does without thinking.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

Elisabeth slept on her side now, one hand curled near her face. Her golden hair fell across the pillow in loose strands.

"Shit you are so gorgeous," Napoleon II whispered.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. The motion was brief, but his fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary. She shifted again, murmured something he couldn’t make out, and pulled the quilt closer to herself.

Napoleon II proceeded to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with care.

He dressed afterward in silence, the routine familiar enough that his hands worked on their own. Shirt. Waistcoat. The faint clink of metal as he fastened a button. By the time he stepped back into the bedroom, the light had shifted, brighter now, catching along the edge of the curtains.

Elisabeth stirred.

She rolled onto her back, eyes still closed, hair spread across the pillow in a soft tangle. Her hand reached out instinctively, fingers brushing the empty space where he’d been. She frowned faintly, then opened her eyes.

"Napoleon..." Elisabeth murmured.

"I’m here," Napoleon II called.

She turned over, the quilt slipping down her shoulder before she pulled it back up. Her eyes found him by the window, already dressed, coat in hand. For a moment she just looked at him, taking in the sight as if fixing it in place.

"Goodmorning."

"Goodmorning too dear," Napoleon II replied warmly with a smile.

She tried to sit up but stopped halfway, her face tightening for a brief moment. One hand drifted down beneath the quilt, resting over her lower belly. She rubbed at it slowly.

"...Ah," she said quietly. "That hurts."

Napoleon II was beside the bed at once. He set the coat down without thinking and leaned closer, concern cutting through the morning calm.

"Where?" he asked.

She glanced up at him, then back down, her hand still there. "Here. Just sore."

Understanding came quickly, and with it a flash of guilt. He exhaled through his nose and shook his head once.

"I’m sorry," he said. His voice dropped. "I was too rough."

Elisabeth looked at him for a second, then gave a small, tired smile.

"It’s fine...I’m going to prepare for the day too. Let’s have breakfast together."

"Okay, but before that, I’m going to the office. Call your court ladies to prep you," Napoleon II said.

With that, Napoleon II heads over to his office, which is just adjacent to the bedroom.

He sat on the chair and called Beaumont, who is usually already awake at this time.

"Beaumont!"

Beaumont entered the office swiftly. "Good morning, Your Imperial Majesty. You have called."

"Please prepare me some coffee and notify the kitchen that the Empress and I will be having breakfast after she is done prepping herself up," Napoleon II ordered.

"As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty," Beaumont bowed as he acknowledged his words.

He leaned back slightly as the door closed.

Napoleon exhaled and finally opened one folder.

Beaumont returned a few minutes later with the coffee, setting the cup down to Napoleon’s right.

"Ministers will arrive in forty minutes," Beaumont said. "His Imperial Highness and Armand have already entered the east wing."

"I see. I’ll meet them in due time. How’s the breakfast going?"

"It is being cooked, Sire," Beaumont replied.

"Good, I am starting to feel hungry now."

Twenty minutes passed in steady quiet.

Beaumont returned just as Napoleon set his pen down.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he said. "Breakfast is ready. Her Imperial Majesty is already seated in the dining hall."

Napoleon stood at once. He straightened his coat, adjusted his cuffs, and left the office without another glance at the papers.

The dining hall was bathed in soft morning light. Tall windows stood open just enough to let fresh air drift through, carrying the scent of the gardens outside. Elisabeth was already there, seated at the long table with a composed posture, her hands folded loosely in her lap.

She had changed.

Her hair was pinned neatly, still carrying a faint trace of dampness. A simple morning gown draped over her frame. When she turned her head and saw him, her expression softened.

Napoleon took the seat beside her.

As he settled in, he caught it, subtle but unmistakable. The scent of soap and shampoo, clean and floral, mixed with something warmer that was simply her. It lingered when she moved, close enough that he breathed it in without meaning to.

"You smell good," he said.

"So do you."

Servants moved quietly around them, setting dishes in place. Silver covers were lifted one by one.

Fresh bread, still warm. Croissants layered and golden. Soft butter shaped into clean curls. A selection of cheeses arranged neatly, pale to deep amber. Bowls of fruit—pears, grapes, sliced apples—glossed with morning freshness. Eggs prepared delicately, steam rising faintly. A small pot of honey. Jam in porcelain dishes.

Then they ate breakfast.

After that, they parted ways with one another as Elisabeth has her own personal agenda. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Napoleon II returned to the office and at the door, he saw Armand, bowing his head.

"Your Imperial Majesty, good morning."

"Good morning. So, where’s my cousin."

"He is right there behind you Sire," Armand replied, extending his hand forward to point at someone behind Napoleon II.

Napoleon II turned and saw him.