Reincarnated as Napoleon



25th of June, or in the revolutionary calendar 7th of Messidor, Year IV. Napoleon and Ciela arrived at the Hôtel de Mondragon. They stepped off the carriage, with Napoleon leading the way out and extending his hand towards Ciela, who he helped down with a gentle touch. Their eyes met, filled with anticipation and love, as they stood at the entrance of the Hôtel de Mondragon, their chosen wedding venue.

The Hôtel de Mondragon is a wedding venue where the real Napoleon Bonaparte married his wife, Josephine. As they stood at the entrance, a rush of emotions surged through Napoleon's heart. He couldn't help but reflect on the parallel between his own love story and that of his namesake. Both Napoleon Bonapartes had found their soulmates within the walls of this magnificent building.

With a tender smile, Napoleon turned to Ciela and whispered, "Are you ready?"

Ciela's eyes sparkled with excitement and a touch of nervousness. She took a deep breath, feeling a surge of emotions coursing through her veins. She looked up at Napoleon, her hand finding its place in his.

"Yes, Napoleon," she replied softly.

Napoleon's gaze intensified with love and reassurance. He squeezed her hand gently, offering her the support she needed at that moment.

Together, they took a step forward, crossing the threshold of the Hôtel de Mondragon.

As they made their way through the venue, they were greeted by the soft glow of candlelight and the fragrance of delicate flowers. The elegant décor created an atmosphere of intimacy and warmth, enveloping them in a cocoon of love.

Their loved ones, Napoleon's family, stood waiting at the end of the aisle. Letizia, his mother, exuded a mix of pride and joy, her eyes glistening with tears. Joseph, his brother, wore a knowing smile, cheering and congratulating from a distance. As for Ciela, she didn't have anyone from her own family to witness this momentous occasion, as she had left her family a long time ago, leaving her with no relatives.

This wedding marked a departure from the opulence and extravagance that had defined the weddings of the aristocracy in the past. The revolutionary government's influence had brought forth a new era, where simplicity, equality, and the ideals of the revolution took center stage.

One noticeable change was the departure from elaborate wedding attire. The ostentatious gowns and suits that once symbolized aristocratic unions were replaced by modest yet meaningful attire. Ciela donned a beautiful white gown, elegant in its simplicity, representing purity and unity. Napoleon chose a tailored suit, devoid of excessive ornamentation, symbolizing his commitment to equality and the egalitarian values they held dear.

As they walked towards the altar, they met the gazes of the municipal officer, who would officiate their union according to the new civil code introduced by the revolutionary government.

As they reached the altar, the municipal officer began.

"Today, we gather to celebrate the union of Napoleon and Ciela," the municipal officer's voice resonated through the grand hall of the Hôtel de Mondragon, capturing the attention of everyone present.

The municipal officer continued, "In accordance with the civil code, let us now proceed with the declaration of marriage. Have you both freely chosen to enter into this union, without any force or coercion?"

Napoleon and Ciela, their voices strong and unwavering, answered in unison, "We have."

The municipal officer turned towards Napoleon, extending the marriage vows for him to recite. Napoleon took a deep breath, his voice steady and filled with emotion as he addressed Ciela, his voice carrying the weight of his devotion.

"Ciela, from this day forward, I promise to be your partner, your confidant, and your rock. I vow to stand by your side through all the challenges and triumphs that lie ahead, to cherish and respect you as my equal, and to support and love you with every breath I take."

Ciela's eyes shimmered with tears of joy as she responded, "Napoleon, I pledge to be your companion, your support, and your guiding light. I promise to honor and stand beside you in all endeavors, to nurture our love and create a haven of trust and understanding, and to love and cherish you for all eternity."

Their heartfelt words reverberated in the hearts of their guests, encapsulating the essence of their love and the depth of their commitment. With the exchange of vows complete, a profound silence settled over the room, as if the universe itself held its breath in reverence for this sacred moment.

"Napoleon and Ciela, by the power vested in me and in accordance with the civil code, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your union with a kiss."

With a tender smile, Napoleon closed the distance between them, his hand cupping Ciela's cheek. He leaned in slowly, their breaths mingling, and their lips met in a gentle and passionate kiss.

As their lips parted, the room erupted in applause and cheers.

"Monsieur et Madame Bonaparte," the municipal officer began, his voice projecting with clarity and authority, "I now invite you to listen to an excerpt from the civil code that governs this union and defines the rights and responsibilities bestowed upon you as spouses."

He opened a small book, the pages delicately worn from years of use and cleared his throat before continuing.

"Article 213 of the civil code states: 'Marriage is the union of two individuals, based on the freedom of consent, mutual love, and equal rights. It creates a partnership of mutual respect, support, and shared responsibility. Article 214 emphasizes the importance of fidelity and trust within this sacred bond, recognizing the sanctity of the promises made here today. It is a promise to remain devoted and true to one another, to honor the commitment you have freely chosen. Finally, Article 215 emphasizes the mutual duty of spouses to contribute to the welfare and happiness of their union, to support each other in times of joy and adversity, and to foster an environment of harmony and love."

After reading the law, the municipal officer handed them their certificate of marriage, a document that symbolized the legal recognition of their union. Napoleon and Ciela accepted the certificate with grateful smiles, their hands still intertwined, and their hearts filled with an overwhelming sense of joy.

And on that day, Napoleon and Ciela became husband and wife, bound by love and the promises they had made to each other.

***

On the evening of September 28th, 1795, or in the revolutionary calendar, the 7th of Vendémiaire, Year IV. In the Château de Chantilly.

"Okay, give it one more push," the midwife urged gently.

Ciela, beads of perspiration dotting her forehead, summoned every ounce of strength within her and pushed with determination. Napoleon stood outside of the room, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and worry. He could hear the muffled sounds of Ciela's labored breathing, intermingled with the soothing voice of the midwife guiding her through each contraction. Every fiber of his being yearned to be by her side, yet he was forbidden from entering the birthing chamber. It was a customary practice for men to remain outside during childbirth, but it didn't alleviate Napoleon's anxiety.

Minutes felt like hours as he paced back and forth in the corridor outside the room. His mind filled with thoughts of Ciela's safety. In this era, maternal healthcare practices were not as advanced as they would be in the future. Napoleon worried about Ciela's well-being and the safety of their unborn child. Not to mention, she was giving birth to a twin, which further heightened Napoleon's concern. He fervently hoped that Ciela and their babies would emerge from this experience healthy and unscathed. Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely, each passing second increasing his anxiety.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sound of a baby's cry broke through the tension-filled atmosphere.

"Is it okay now?" Napoleon asked, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"

The midwife opened the door, a smile illuminating her face. "Congratulations, Monsieur Bonaparte! You may come in. Your wife and children are waiting for you."

Relief washed over Napoleon as he stepped into the room. His eyes immediately sought out Ciela, who was lying on the bed, her face flushed with exertion and joy. She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

"They're here, Napoleon," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "Our children have arrived."

Napoleon approached the bed and gazed down at the tiny bundles nestled in Ciela's arms, two precious beings who had just entered the world.

"So this is our children huh?" Napoleon reached out to gently touch one of the newborns, his fingers tracing the delicate features of their faces.

"Indeed it is. We should give them a name now," Ciela suggested.

"You are right. Let's start with our son," Napoleon suggested, turning his attention to the little boy in Ciela's arms. "How about Francis?"

"Francis," she repeated, testing the name on her lips. "I love it. Francis Bonaparte."

Napoleon smiled, relieved and overjoyed. "Francis Bonaparte it is then."

"As for our little girl," Ciela continued, shifting her gaze to the baby girl in her arms, "how about Aveline?"

Napoleon's eyes sparkled with delight as he listened to the name. "Aveline," he repeated, savoring the sound. "Aveline Bonaparte. It's perfect."

Napoleon's gaze lingered on the innocent faces of their children, his heart heavy with a mix of joy and fear. In the depths of his being, an ache resonated, a gnawing worry that threatened to overshadow the bliss of this moment. The weight of his responsibilities as a military leader bore down upon him, casting a shadow on the future he longed to share with Francis and Aveline. How could he protect them, guide them, and witness their growth if the demands of war called him away, separating him from the tender moments he cherished?

The uncertainty of the coming days and months loomed over Napoleon, his mind plagued by the possibility of missed milestones, stolen memories, and an absence that would etch a void in their young lives. The thought of being torn away from his children, watching them from afar as they blossomed into the individuals they were destined to become, gripped his soul with a bittersweet ache.

Yet, intertwined with the fear was a determination that burned fiercely within him. Napoleon vowed that he would take care of himself on the battlefield, etching to his mind that his children are waiting for him to return.

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