Reincarnated as Napoleon



As the morning sun began to fill the dining hall of the Royal Palace of Madrid, Tristan Bonaparte shared a quiet breakfast with an English noblewoman. The table between them was long, yet it seemed to shorten with each shared glance and smile.

Tristan observed the noblewoman, appreciating the simplicity and elegance of her attire She wore a cream-colored dress, tailored to fit her form without excess or ostentation. The red cape that draped over her shoulders was bright and eye-catching, but its design was practical, meant for warmth rather than show.

Her hair was light blonde, pulled back to reveal the full extent of her gentle features. Her eyes were bright and attentive as she looked back at him, a smile gracing her lips.

"Uhm…Your Majesty, I can't help but notice that you are looking at me quite oftenly. Is there something on my face?" she asked.

Tristan's smile broadened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, an informal gesture that seemed to close the distance between them even more. 

"My apologies, Lady," he began. "it's not something on your face that captures my attention, but rather the face itself—its composure, the way it reflects the morning light, and, if I may be so bold, how it seems to brighten this hall more than any chandelier ever could."

Her laughter, light and melodic, filled the room, and she placed her hand lightly over her mouth in a gesture of feigned modesty. 

"Sir, you have a way with words that could turn breakfast into a ballroom dance," she replied. "But tell me, is it the custom here in Spain for noblemen to offer compliments as freely as the sun offers its rays?"

"It is not the custom, perhaps, but an inclination of the heart when in pleasant company," Tristan said and continued. "And in such a company, it would be a disservice to conversation to not speak one's mind. And by the way, my lady, I'm not a Spanish nobleman but a French one. I am, after all, the son of the Great Emperor who is ruling France. Napoleon Bonaparte. And you haven't introduced yourself formally to me." 

The noblewoman tilted her head slightly, her smile taking on an added layer of warmth.

"I stand corrected, Your Majesty. I am Lady Shiela Belfast. My family holds modest estates to the north of England. While we may not command an empire, we do take pride in our contribution to the realm's tapestry."

Tristan nodded, his interest clearly piqued. "Lady Belfast," he repeated, savoring the name. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. England's countryside must surely be lesser for your absence."

Shiela nodded, the understanding in her eyes evident. "Of course, Your Majesty. I would not keep you from your responsibilities."

With a final glance at Lady Belfast, Tristan stood and followed his advisor out of the dining hall. 

***

Tristan followed his advisor to his office, and as soon as they arrived at the doors to his office, the advisor stopped and faced him.

"Your Majesty, inside your office would be your cabinet members. So it is going to be crowded." 

"So it is really serious huh?" 

"It is indeed, Your Majesty," the advisor confirmed, his face stern.

Tristan's expression hardened. "Understood. Let's not keep them waiting then."

He briskly walked into his office, where his cabinet members stood waiting. 

The room was filled with a tense atmosphere, papers were strewn across the table, and maps with various markings hung on the walls. The chatter ceased as he entered; all eyes were on him, expectant and anxious.

"Good morning," Tristan greeted them, taking his place at the head of the table. "Now, what is so urgent that it cannot wait until after breakfast?"

One of the senior advisors stepped forward, a dispatch in his hand. "Your Majesty, the Empire of France has declared war on the Russian Empire and the Ottoman Empire. They have reached out to us and ask that we come to their aid as allies in this conflict," the senior advisor finished, handing the dispatch to Tristan.

Tristan scanned the document quickly. "So my father really did it huh? They fired at the Ottoman troops that crossed the demarcation line." 

"Your Majesty, they aren't waiting any longer. They need our decision." 

"My father has asked his son to join him in battle, a son would never turn his back on his father, especially in a time like this," Tristan said. "As the King of Spain, I answer to his call. The Empire of Spain shall declare war on the Russian Empire and the Ottoman Empire."

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