Palace of Versailles, France
Late December 1837
The afternoon came with more light than the morning had promised.
It did not break through the clouds in any dramatic way, and it did not suddenly warm the air, but it carried a softness that had not been there earlier. The pale gray sky lifted just enough for the light to spread more evenly across the gardens. The frost that had settled overnight began to thin, retreating slowly along the stone paths and the edges of the hedges.
From a distance, nothing seemed different.
Up close, everything had shifted.
Napoleon II stepped out into the gardens without announcement.
No one had been sent ahead. No attendants rushed forward to clear his path. The guards stationed near the entrance straightened when they saw him, their posture sharpening out of instinct, but he gave no orders beyond a small nod as he passed.
He was not there for inspection.
He was not there for ceremony.
He simply stepped outside.
The cold met him immediately.
