Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 55: Return to Versailles

After the promise was sealed and the kiss made, Napoleon II and Princess Elisabeth of Bavaria began walking down the aisle together.

The noise inside Notre-Dame rose in controlled layers. It wasn’t chaos. It was applause, then voices, then the steady swelling of approval that spread from the front rows to the back. Men who rarely showed emotion stood and clapped anyway. Women lifted hands to their mouths, eyes fixed on the couple as if they were trying to lock the image into memory. Foreign dignitaries did not shout, but many nodded to their aides, already calculating what this marriage meant in treaties and trade.

Napoleon II kept his pace even. His posture didn’t change. He did not rush, and he did not slow to feed the spectacle. Elisabeth stayed at his side, her hand in his arm. Her face remained composed, but she didn’t look away from the crowd either. She acknowledged it without shrinking from it.

They passed the pews where clergy sat with calm expressions, and the bishops watched with their hands folded. A few priests whispered to each other as the pair moved past, not disrespectfully, but with the quiet urgency of men who knew they had just witnessed something that would be discussed for years.

Napoleon I remained near the altar for a moment longer, exchanging brief words with the Pope and the leading clergymen. He did not chase after them. This was their walk now. His role in the ceremony was done. The Empire had a new union, and the next week would decide the crown.

At the front, attendants opened the side doors in sequence. The route was clear and rehearsed. Imperial Guards shifted position, creating a moving corridor.

As Napoleon II and Elisabeth approached the main entrance, the city’s sound began to leak back in. It came through the cathedral like pressure. It wasn’t just cheering. It was a mass of voices gathered outside, layered on top of each other, waiting for a glimpse of what they had just heard confirmed.

The great doors of Notre-Dame stood open.

Cold air rushed in.

Napoleon II felt the temperature change instantly. So did Elisabeth, but she didn’t flinch. Her shoulders stayed squared. Her grip on his arm didn’t tighten.

They stepped into the doorway.

And the square exploded.

The noise hit them like a wall. Flags surged in the air. Hats were thrown up. Men shouted his name until their voices cracked. Women waved handkerchiefs hard enough to blur. Children screamed because everyone else was screaming.

"Long live the Prince!"

"Long live the Princess!"

Some didn’t even get the words right. It didn’t matter. They were yelling because they needed to.

Napoleon II raised his hand.

The reaction intensified. It didn’t calm them. It drove them harder, as if his acknowledgment gave permission for the city to become louder. Flowers came again, thrown from the front. Some landed on the stone steps. Some struck the Guard. A few reached them, petals scattering at their feet.

Elisabeth stepped forward beside him into full view of the square.

Napoleon II glanced at her for half a second. Elisabeth kept her chin up, then lifted her free hand and gave a small wave.

The crowd answered anyway like she had given them more.

An officer signaled, and the Guard began to move. The escort tightened around the couple, guiding them down the steps and onto the cleared route.

The imperial carriage waited where it had been positioned.

Napoleon II helped Elisabeth into the carriage first. The step was high due to the reinforced design, but the attendants managed her train, lifting fabric cleanly so it didn’t catch. Elisabeth’s hand stayed firm on the carriage frame, and she entered without stumbling. Napoleon II followed, cloak folding behind him.

The door shut with a solid click.

The carriage moved.

Outside, the procession formed again.

Mounted guards rode along the sides, keeping the crowd from pressing too close. Infantry marched in formation.

Drummers kept a steady pace. A small brass section played short ceremonial phrases that carried over the crowd when the chanting dipped.

From inside the carriage, Notre-Dame slid away behind them. The cathedral remained visible over the heads of people for longer than expected, towers fixed above the river. Then the streets turned, buildings closed the view, and Paris became the corridor again.

Elisabeth sat across from Napoleon II. Her veil had been adjusted when they exited, pinned so it didn’t drift across her face. Her cheeks held color from the cold. She kept her spine straight, hands resting in her lap.

Elisabeth exhaled slowly.

Napoleon II watched her for a moment. He had expected nerves. Not panic, but the kind of tension that built when thousands of eyes tracked your breathing and any mistake would become a story.

"You did well," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear.

Elisabeth looked at him, and for a brief moment her expression loosened.

"The people are so enthusiastic."

"It’s just the wedding, what more if it’s the coronation? We’ll find out next week."

The route out of Paris toward Versailles had been managed like a military operation. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

At every major intersection, soldiers blocked side streets. Police and gendarmes stood at intervals, hands ready, eyes scanning. Riders moved ahead of the carriage to confirm clearance. A second carriage followed behind, carrying senior attendants and officials. Further back, more carriages carried ministers and dignitaries who would attend the reception.

As they passed into wider roads, the density of people changed but did not disappear. Even outside the heart of the city, villages and roadside houses had filled with onlookers. People stood on fences and carts. Some had climbed trees. Farmers abandoned their fields and stood on the roadside with their hats off, holding them against their chest as the convoy passed.

Napoleon II did not wave constantly. He didn’t need to. The presence of the carriage alone was enough to keep the crowd alive. But every few minutes, when the road straightened and the view opened, he lifted his hand again, and each time the crowd answered like they had been waiting for that exact signal.

When the first outer buildings of Versailles came into view, the crowd returned in force.

People had been waiting there for hours. Some had traveled from Paris earlier just to see the convoy arrive. The streets leading toward the palace gates were packed and loud, and the local Guard units joined the escort, reinforcing the line.

The carriage rolled through the gates.

The courtyard was filled with controlled movement. Servants, soldiers, and palace officials were positioned in layers. Everything had a place. Nothing was improvised.

Napoleon II felt the carriage slow. The wheels stopped.

The door opened.

Warm air spilled out from the entrance behind them, and cold air pushed in from the courtyard.

Napoleon II stepped out first, then offered his hand.

Elisabeth took it.

She stepped down carefully, attendants catching the train at the right moment. The fabric fell into place behind her without dragging. She stood upright in the courtyard, facing the palace.