Reincarnated as Napoleon



After the mesmerizing lighting ceremony, the enchanted guests made their way back into the resplendent halls of the Palais Royal, where a feast of unparalleled opulence awaited them. Inside the lavish dining hall, the tables were adorned in the finest silks, while golden candelabras cast a warm glow and delicate floral arrangements cascaded from crystal vases.

The air was filled with a symphony of laughter and animated conversations as the attendees took their seats, their eyes dazzled by the sight of the culinary delights that awaited them. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, tantalizing their senses and whetting their appetites.

Platters of succulent roasted meats, perfectly seared and seasoned, were presented alongside an array of vibrant vegetables, their colors reflecting the bounty of nature. Exquisite pastries and delicate confections, crafted by masterful pastry chefs, adorned the tables like edible works of art.

As the guests settled into their seats, anticipation mingled with the clinking of glasses and the soft murmurs of delight. They talked about the lighting ceremony, the light bulbs that illuminated the courtyard in a poetic display.

After the sumptuous feast, they returned to the grand ballroom. The mechanical inventions displayed earlier were now gone, replaced by musicians who filled the room with enchanting melodies. The resplendent ballroom seemed to come alive as couples gracefully swayed to the rhythm as they waltz across the polished marble floors.

Ciela Bonaparte watched the scenery unfold before her as she sipped champagne. Despite the lively and joyous scene, a sense of melancholy washed over her heart. She couldn't help but feel the absence of her beloved husband on this momentous night. His presence would have made the evening truly unforgettable. In this moment of celebration, she yearned for his warm embrace, his whispered words of love, and the reassuring strength he exuded. She longed for him to witness the enchantment of the evening, to share in the triumphs and joys that had blossomed from their joint efforts.

Lost in her thoughts, Ciela's gaze drifted to the couples swirling on the dance floor. Each twirl and dip stirred a bittersweet ache within her heart. She imagined herself in Napoleon's arms, moving gracefully to the rhythm of the music. But she knew he couldn't do that, as he was in Italy, fighting the Austrians.

He told her through letters that the campaign in Italy was going to take longer than expected as the new commander that replaced General Count von Wurmser, Josef Alvincinzi, is proving to be a formidable adversary. Though Napoleon had defeated him in Arcole, Bassano, Rivoli, and Valvasone the Austrian General wouldn't just back down, thwarting his plan of ending the Italian campaign early.

Despite that, Ciela was certain that the war in Italy would be ending soon as Napoleon was already deep in the northeast of Italy, threatening Vienna. It's only a matter of time before the Austrians sue for peace.

"Ah...madame?"

A voice interrupted Ciela's reverie, bringing her back to the present. She turned her gaze to find a man in his mid-twenties standing before her. His dark complexion and long black whiskers and mustache framed a very handsome face, radiating an air of confidence and charm. Though he was not tall, there was an undeniable magnetism about him that drew attention.

Ciela's eyes widened with curiosity as she looked up at the man.

"May I help you, monsieur?" she inquired politely.

The man's lips curved into a warm smile, revealing a glimpse of his charm. "My apologies for the interruption, madame," he replied and continued. "I couldn't help but notice your elegance and beauty from across the room. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Hippolyte Charles."

Upon his introduction, Ciela raised a brow. Did she hear him right? Hippolyte Charles? If she was not mistaken, the man standing before her shared the same name as the infamous lover of Napoleon Bonaparte's wife in her world.

"I've grown accustomed to such compliments from every gentleman I encounter in this room, so they fail to impress me in the slightest," Ciela said sharply, casting a glance at Hippolyte's outstretched arms as if silently denying him permission to kiss her palm.

But sadly for him, Ciela wouldn't allow that to happen. Her heart belonged solely to Napoleon, and no amount of flattery or advances from this man could sway her. With just a single look, she could tell he was attempting to court her. The way he emphasized his rank in his introduction was distasteful as if it held any weight in impressing her. Her husband, Napoleon, commanded the Army of Italy, while this lieutenant had yet to prove himself in any significant manner.

"Is that so? Well, I'm different," Hippolyte proudly said, undeterred by Ciela's cold demeanor.

Ciela arched an eyebrow, intrigued by his bold claim. "Different, you say? Pray, enlighten me, Lieutenant Charles. What sets you apart from the countless gentlemen who have attempted to catch my attention this evening?"

A confident smirk played on Hippolyte's lips as he took a step closer. "Madame, I possess an unwavering determination and a spirit that cannot be easily quelled. Even if you were to turn me down, I will still continue to pursue you, for something is captivating about your presence that I cannot ignore."

"You are well aware that I'm already married to a very distinguished individual and that I have children with him. So no thank you."

"But he is not here, right? Your husband has been away for like almost a year, he couldn't possibly satisfy you with him always being away on the battlefield while I can provide you with all the time I have in this world. I can even take care of your children and treat them like my own."

Ciela's eyes narrowed at Hippolyte's audacity, a mix of anger and disbelief crossing her face. She couldn't believe the lieutenant had the audacity to suggest that he could provide her with what her husband couldn't. Her loyalty and love for Napoleon ran deep, and no one could ever replace him in her heart.

Her hate towards Josephine and Hippolyte is now being justified, they are the worst of the worst, and being unfaithful to their partner is something that Ciela could never fathom. She had witnessed firsthand the devotion and sacrifices Napoleon had made for their family and for his country. His absence in the physical sense did not diminish his presence in her heart and mind.

"Lieutenant Charles, your audacity knows no bounds. I will not entertain such disrespectful and dishonorable propositions. My loyalty to my husband is unwavering, and no amount of misguided persistence on your part will change that."

"Hoh?" Hippolyte mused in amusement. "You were the first woman to have rejected me."

"You speak of that as if it was an accomplishment of some sort?" Ciela retorted. "This is a clear waste of my time. Goodbye to you Monsieur Charles…"

As Ciela was about to walk away, Hippolyte suddenly grabbed her by the arm, his grip firm but not forceful. His eyes bore into hers with intensity, and a hint of desperation seeped into his voice.

As Ciela was about to walk away, Hippolyte suddenly grabbed her by the arm, his touch firm and unwelcome. Ciela's eyes blazed with anger as she turned to face him, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Unhand me this instant!" she demanded, her voice cutting through the music and catching the attention of nearby guests.

Hippolyte's grip tightened, his charming demeanor replaced by a menacing glare. "You will regret this, Madame Bonaparte," he sneered bitterly. "You think you can dismiss me so easily? I am not a man to be ignored or denied. I will do everything to make you mine!"

As Hippolyte uttered those words, an icy shiver ran down Ciela's spine. The world around her seemed to blur, and she felt a strange detachment from the present moment. In an instant, memories from her past life flooded her mind, merging with the reality before her.

The words he spoke mirrored the chilling threats of her stalker, the one who had tormented her in her previous existence. The stalker who had ultimately ended her life, leading to her rebirth in this alternate world. The trauma she had buried deep within her resurfaced.

Her heart raced, and her breath grew shallow as panic set in. The ballroom became suffocating, the grandeur and opulence transforming into a haunting reminder of her past trauma. Every detail, from the flickering candlelight to the elegant chandeliers, seemed to taunt her.

Images flashed through her mind, fragments of a dark and twisted past. The stalker's menacing messages, the fear that consumed her every waking moment, and the devastating tragedy that had cut her life short. It was a nightmare she had tried to forget, buried beneath layers of her new identity and the love she found in this world.

Ciela struggled to ground herself in the present, to separate the echoes of her past from the reality she now inhabited. She clutched at her chest, feeling the weight of her racing heart. The familiar sense of vulnerability and helplessness threatened to engulf her.

A concerned voice broke through the fog of her memories. "Madame Bonaparte! Are you alright?" Lavoisier's voice reached her ears, filled with worry. "Get your hands off her!"

Ciela's gaze met Lavoisier's concerned eyes, and she realized she was no longer alone in her torment. Antoine's presence offered a lifeline, a connection to the present that she desperately needed.

Blinking back tears, Ciela managed to find her voice, though it trembled with the echoes of her past. "I... I need to leave," she whispered, her words barely audible. "Please, Antoine, take me somewhere quiet."

Antoine nodded and he stepped forward and took her away from Hippolyte.

With Antoine's steady support, Ciela was led out of the grand ballroom, away from the prying eyes and suffocating memories.