December 24th, 1829.
The ti was eight o’clock in the evening and the Palace of Versailles was brightly lit by the electric lighting, giving it a golden glow that could be seen from far away.
Inside the Palace of Versailles, Napoleon II was speaking with the Brazilian diplomat who shook his hand after concluding their eting.
"For France and Brazil," the diplomat said with a respectful nod.
"For mutual prosperity," Napoleon II replied.
The diplomat stepped back, bowed once more, and exited the chamber. Beaumont quietly closed the door behind him.
Napoleon II exhaled and rolled his shoulders slightly.
"That’s the last one for tonight," Charles said, glancing at his notes. "And possibly the last formal eting before Christmas."
Napoleon II walked back to his desk and sat down.
"For the last seven days," he said, rubbing his temple, "it felt like half of South Arica passed through this room."
Charles gave a small smile.
"In a way, they did," he replied. "Gran Colombia, Brazil, Chile, Peru, the United Provinces... all newly independent, all desperate for capital."
Napoleon ii leaned back in his chair.
"And all sitting on mountains of resources," he added.
He reached for a folder on his desk and flipped it open.
"Gran Colombia," he said. "Exclusive prospecting rights for petroleum basins. Survey access. Refinery concessions once extraction begins."
Charles nodded.
"They signed quickly," he said. "Their treasury is thin so naturally they’d want investnts and loans from us. Good thing they ca to us and not to the British."
"True."
Napoleon II turned a page. "Okay, let’s summarize what we got."
"Brazil," he continued. "Mineral concessions in Araxá. Rare earth deposits. Iron. Industrial tals. In exchange, we finance rail construction and port modernization. Chile and Peru. Copper. Nitrates. Silver veins. French engineers gain operational rights. Local governnts receive modernization loans."
Charles tapped his ledger lightly.
"And shipping agreents," he said. "French firms gain priority contracts moving those commodities back to Europe."
Napoleon II closed the folder.
"Raw materials in exchange for capital and technology," he said. "Simple structure. Everyone walks away thinking they won."
Charles looked at the final page in his ledger.
"The total pledged investnt and loans," he said, "stands at four hundred million francs."
"It’s like buying territories from Spain," Napoleon II chuckled. "But it’s going to be a worthy investnt. You’ll see the returns once we get their natural resources. Well my cousin, I think you can clock out early now and go to your family. It’s Christmas."
Charles blinked once, caught slightly off guard.
"You’re dismissing ?" he asked.
Napoleon II gave a small shrug. "It’s Christmas Eve. Even imperial secretaries are allowed to rember they have families."
Charles closed the ledger with care.
"They’ll be surprised," he said. "I told them this week would be... uncertain."
"Tell them the Emperor ordered it," Napoleon II replied. "That tends to settle argunts."
"They’ll be surprised," he said. "I told them this week would be... uncertain."
"Tell them the Emperor ordered it," Napoleon II replied. "That tends to settle argunts."
Charles allowed himself a quiet laugh. He gathered the docunts into a neat stack and slid them into his satchel.
"You’re staying?" he asked.
"For a while," Napoleon II said. "I want to review these concessions one more ti. After that... I’ll call it a night."
Charles nodded.
"Then... rry Christmas, Your Imperial Majesty."
Napoleon II inclined his head. "rry Christmas, Charles."
Charles turned and headed for the door. Beaumont opened it without a word, and a mont later the corridor swallowed the sound of his footsteps.
The office fell quiet.
He reopened the folder.
Four hundred million francs.
On paper, it looked high. A number large enough to make ministers nervous and bankers sweat. But Napoleon II didn’t see the expense. He saw leverage.
Oil fields that hadn’t even been tapped yet. Mineral veins that would feed factories for decades. Shipping routes that would tie two continents to French industry.
Napoleon II stood and walked to the tall windows. Versailles stretched out beneath him, electric lights glowing against the winter night. Beyond the palace grounds, Paris shimred faintly in the distance.
Fifteen years ago, France had been licking its wounds, rebuilding piece by piece.
Now foreign governnts crossed oceans to sit in this palace and ask for French money.
He folded his arms. Next year there will be more action.
A soft knock broke his thoughts.
Beaumont stepped in just enough to be heard.
"Your Imperial Majesty," he said, "the staff are preparing the Christmas supper. They asked if you would be attending."
Napoleon II glanced once more at the folder on his desk.
"Yes," he said. "Tell them I’ll be there shortly."
Beaumont bowed. "At once, sire."
The door closed again.
Napoleon II took one last look at the docunts, then slid them neatly into place. He turned off the desk lamp, straightened his coat, and headed for the hall.
As he approached the dining hall, Beaumont opened the door for him and beyond those doors was Elisabeth.
Napoleon II wanted the celebration of this Christmas to be personal so there’s only two of them seated at the long table that had clearly been arranged for two of them.
Elisabeth looked up when he entered.
"You dismissed the court," she said.
"I dismissed everyone," Napoleon II replied, stepping inside. Beaumont closed the doors behind him, sealing the hall.
"For tonight," he added, "it’s just us."
Elisabeth studied him for a mont, then nodded once.
"Good," she said. "You’ve been impossible to reach all week."
"South Arica decided to industrialize," he answered dryly as he approached her. "All at once."
He pecked her cheek with his lips before sitting across her. "Now, how about the gifts?"
Napoleon II flicked his finger and Beaumont stepped in imdiately, as if he had been waiting just outside the door.
In his hands was a small velvet box resting on a silver tray.
Beaumont approached Elisabeth first. Napoleon gave a small nod.
"For you," he said simply.
Elisabeth looked at the box, then at him, a faint smile forming. She opened it carefully.
Inside, a necklace rested against dark velvet, a fine gold chain set with a single clear stone.
Her fingers hovered over it for a mont before she lifted it out.
"It’s beautiful," she said quietly.
"Turn around," Napoleon II said.
She did. He stood, stepped behind her, and fastened the clasp. The chain settled neatly against her collar.
Elisabeth touched the stone lightly.
"You chose this yourself," she said.
"I did," Napoleon II replied. "I figured if I let anyone else pick, they’d overcomplicate it."
She turned back to face him.
"You were right," she said. "It’s perfect."
Napoleon II sat again, satisfied.
"And mine?" he asked.
Elisabeth reached beside her chair and produced a narrow box Napoleon II hadn’t noticed before. She slid it across the table.
"For you," she said.
He opened it.
Inside rested a chanical watch.
"It’s beautiful," Napoleon II said as he grabbed it and wore it on his left wrist. "rry Christmas my darling."
"rry Christmas," with that, they sealed the night with a kiss.
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