Thirty minutes later, they reached the rendezvous point, the Château de Saint-Priest, situated away from the busy center of Lyon.

Napoleon aimed to keep the Pope's visit low-key, avoiding any public announcement that might spark excitement and disrupt their carefully planned meeting. Stepping out of the carriage, Napoleon and Lucien were greeted by the sight of the grand estate surrounded by lush greenery.

The château's remote location made it ideal for their secret meeting with the Pope, ensuring that it remained discreet and known only to a select few. Its elegant façade and expansive gardens offered a fitting backdrop for the historic encounter about to unfold.

"Your Excellency," Murat greeted, he was the one who opened the door for them.

Napoleon nodded in acknowledgment. "Murat," he replied, his focus on the upcoming meeting with the Pope. "Where is the Pope?"

"Over there," Murat pointed towards a convoy of horse-drawn carriages that had just arrived at a discreet entrance to the château's grounds.

Napoleon's anticipation grew as he saw the unmistakable figure of the Pope stepping down from one of the carriages. The Pontiff's attire, with his distinct white robes and the traditional white skullcap perched on his head, was immediately recognizable. A pectoral cross hung from a golden chain around his neck, glinting in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

As the Pope approached, Napoleon's thoughts turned to the weighty matters they were about to discuss. The current Pope of the Catholic Church is Pius VII, the one who attended the crowning ceremony of Napoleon Bonaparte in the original world.

Napoleon, with a composed demeanor, stepped forward to greet His Holiness.

"Your Holiness, welcome to France," Napoleon said, his tone respectful and his gaze steady. He extended a hand towards the Pope, offering a handshake.

Pius VII, his countenance serene yet contemplative, accepted the greeting with a gentle nod. His weathered hand, adorned with the papal ring, met Napoleon's in a brief but significant clasp.

"Your Excellency, Napoleon," the Pope replied.

"How's your trip from Rome?" Napoleon inquired, guiding the Pope towards the entrance of the château, where they would find a more private setting for their conversation.

Pius VII's eyes held a hint of weariness from the journey, but his spirit remained steadfast. "The journey was long but the steam locomotives made it short and comfortable," the Pope replied, offering a faint smile.

"You can thank me for that," Napoleon said as one corner of his mouth curled into a small grin.

They made their way to the drawing room. Napoleon held the door open for the Pope, who entered with a regal grace.

As they took their seats, Napoleon's expression turned more serious. "Your Holiness," he began, his tone laced with gratitude, "I would like to thank you once again for accepting this invitation, to bless me as Emperor of France."The Pope leaned in slightly, his eyes holding a secret. "Well, that is indeed the intention, but there is another matter," he revealed.

Napoleon's curiosity was piqued. He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. "Another matter?"

The Pope clasped his hands together before sharing the unexpected news. "Marrying you."

Napoleon blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Marrying me? But I am already married, Your Holiness," he responded.

Pope Pius leaned back, his expression unwavering. "During my long and arduous journey, one of my cardinals informed me that you and the future Empress have not been united before God."

Napoleon tilted his head to the side, considering the Pope's words. "Oh, that may be true, but our civil marriage is no less valid," he pointed out.

The Pope's tone was resolute. "To me, the sacrament of matrimony is of the utmost importance. Rest assured, I shall be delighted to bless your union before God."

Napoleon furrowed his brow, contemplating the significance of this unexpected request. "Is that really important and related to the crowning ceremony?" he inquired, seeking further clarification on the matter.

"Indeed, it is, Your Majesty. The union of marriage, sanctified before God, carries profound significance, especially on an occasion as momentous as your coronation as Emperor."

"I see," he murmured. "Well if it's that important, we'll go with that. I don't mind marrying my wife again."

Pope Pius VII's eyes warmed with approval. "Your willingness to embrace this sacrament speaks volumes, Your Excellency. It will not only strengthen the bond between you and the Empress before God but also add a layer of divine grace to your reign."

"Oh, but I want it to be held in October, " Napoleon requested.

"Why is that?" I think you should take a look at

"Uhm…you see, Your Holiness, my wife is pregnant with our fourth child. She is expected to give birth in a day or two," Napoleon explained.

"Is that so?" Pope Pius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I understand. You said that it will be your fourth child with the future Empress. Your Excellency, may I ask how old your children are?"

"Uhm, I have one twin, Francis and Aveline. They are both seven years old, they will turn eight in September. Tristan is one year old."

"And I assume that they are not yet christened or baptized?"

Napoleon nodded. "Yes, Your Holiness."

"Well in that case I can personally administer the sacrament of baptism for your children before remarrying the future Empress."

"You'd do that?"

Pope Pius VII nodded with a warm smile.

"Well, to have my child blessed by the Pope himself is a great honor. Very well, we'll have that arranged. Since the crowning ceremony is in January, we have prepared your residence."

"Where is it?" Pope Pius asked.

"At Notre Dame," Napoleon answered. "It's where the crowning ceremony will be held."

Pope Pius VII nodded in approval. "Notre Dame is a fitting location for such a momentous occasion. I shall look forward to residing there."

"We'll go to Paris at six o'clock in the evening via train."

***

Two days later, at the Palace of Versailles.

Napoleon stood outside the delivery room. He could hear from beyond the door the muffled guttural grunt coming out from Ciela's mouth.

"Papa…is mama going to be okay?" Aveline asked concernedly.

"She will be," Napoleon reassured his daughter in a tender voice.

"Mother," Francis muttered under his breath, and clenched his fist, hoping and praying for the successful delivery of their new sibling.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door to the delivery room swung open. A tired but jubilant midwife emerged.

"Your Excellency, it's done."

Napoleon, along with his two children, rushed inside the delivery room. There, on the bed, lay Empress Ciela, her face flushed with exertion but also radiant with relief and joy. Cradled in her arms was a swaddled bundle, a crying newborn.

"Napoleon," Ciela called weakly. "It's a girl."

Napoleon's heart swelled with pride and happiness. He hurried to Ciela's side, and with a gentle hand, he reached out to hold his newborn daughter, cradling her close to his chest. The baby's cries softened as she nestled against her father's warmth.

"Another angel huh?" Napoleon whispered.

"What would be her name, father?" Francis asked.

Napoleon and Ciela exchanged glances. They already agreed on a name for boy and girl. And since the newborn is a girl, the name is decided.

"Daphne."