It was December 24th, 1835. In the palace of Versailles.
Napoleon II and his family were at the palace in preparation for Christmas eve. Servants were preparing for a feast where high-ranking politicians, military generals, and businessmen were attending.
It's only the higher-ups of the higher-ups with people filling up the palace already.
And in the midst of the crowded people was a little girl weaving and wading through the crowds with a cheerful laugh.
"Your Imperial Highness," her caretaker called out, trying to keep pace without pushing through the guests too roughly. "Please slow down."
Elsa did not.
She slipped past a pair of officers in dress uniform, ducked around a servant carrying a tray, and kept moving with quick, light steps across the polished floor. Her shoes made soft taps against the surface as she went, weaving through the gaps she found without hesitation.
"I'm not running," she said, glancing back for only a second before turning forward again.
