One hour later.
The carriage rolled through the final gates just as the palace came fully into view.
Versailles rose out of the darkness in layers of stone and light. Rows of lamps traced the long facade, every column and window outlined in a steady glow. The light didn't flicker. It didn't waver. It washed the palace in gold and pale white, reflecting off polished stone and catching on the edges of statues standing in silent formation along the forecourt.
Elisabeth leaned forward slightly, eyes drawn to it despite having seen the palace countless times before.
The carriage slowed as it crossed the courtyard. Guards stood at attention, their silhouettes rigid against the light. Boots struck stone in clean, even rhythm as one stepped forward to signal the halt.
The carriage stopped.
Napoleon II stepped down first. He turned and offered his hand.
Elisabeth took it and descended carefully, her shoes touching the ground just as the doors of the palace opened.
