Five o'clock in the afternoon, the Palace of Versailles was buzzing with activity. Napoleon stood in his bedroom, dressed in his finest uniform, preparing for a significant meeting with the Russian Emperor, Paul I.
"Do I look good, darling?" Napoleon said as Ciela entered the room. She scanned him up and down, a hint of a smile on her lips.
"Sharp as ever," she replied, adjusting his collar with a deft hand. "You've got that authoritative look down."
Napoleon gave a nod of approval, a touch of pride in his expression. "Can't afford to look anything less today."
Ciela stepped back, crossing her arms. "Who could have imagined? That you would be speaking with the powerful man in Russia," she remarked.
Napoleon smirked, straightening his jacket. "This should be expected, darling. Anyways, where are the children? Are they already dressed?"
