Five days later, in Milan.
At the Palazzo Reale di Milano. Napoleon was standing in front of the mirror, looking at the reflection on himself.
Today was an important day for the Italian people, as the Republic of Italy will have its new president, which would be him.
"Do I look good here, darling?" Napoleon asked as he glanced at his wife who was observing him from the corner.
Ciela scanned Napoleon from head to toe, her discerning eyes taking in every detail. She had always been a source of honest critique for her husband, unafraid to speak her mind.
"You look every bit the leader, my dear," she replied with a reassuring smile. "But what about mine?"
