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Ochimeca never stood a chance with a quote like that constantly being brought up.
Dang, even in this timeline Merkel gets intimidated by a dog courtesy of another leader, seems she can't catch a break.
Also holy shit that senator's quote got taken way out of context. Way to alienate the Romans with Mexican ancestry.
She made the very easy mistake of saying something so bluntly it could be easily taken out of context and spun in the opposite direction.
Wilhelm Karl just loves being in control.
Gertrude saw an opportunity to take down a rival, even if she respects her, and took it. Wilhelm Karl would be proud.
You know, when I heard that last bit, I actually kind of wanted Alex to accept Josh’s offer for real. Honestly when you can’t find any other friends, you might as well make up with your former bully and see how that works out. At least Josh actually notices Alex and seems interested in him, unlike Manfred. That said , I understand why Alex would be skeptical of him after all he’s done. I would in that situation
Well Wilhelm Karl does have SVI now, so even he wouldn’t mess things up that bad Anniona style. Speaking of which, I see the Teslas are becoming more interested in Annionaverse tech, which is funny since the other side is just about to nuke themselves and embrace the Worm as of 2018. I’m guessing that will be relevant in Stellaris.
It is a little messed up how the CB and Shepherds treated that senator who was just trying to speak up against institutionalized racism, but considering they are trying to fight the literal end of the world, I can sympathize with them here.
I'm guessing Dikastirio is a mix of Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr based off their descriptions here and Josh talking about a form of cancel culture a couple updates ago. I wonder what other social media sites you came up with and what they would be based on, particularly if there are Reddit and 4chan analogues amoung other real world sites?
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The previous draft did have him accept the offer for real, but when I rewrote the previous updates to develop their dynamic more and expand on Alex's feelings, I realized it wouldn't make sense for Alex to trust Josh after all he's done, even if he's like this now.
Then again, SVI's main use is to destroy nukes...
Kind of ironic how Theodor sees the Annionaverse and its knowledge as a cash cow to get rich with, while the people over there are dying painfully.
Still, it does feel wrong to shut down this senator, especially when it has almost no connection to their main goal of fighting climate change.
Dikastirio is a mix of Facebook, Tumblr, and Reddit, while Ti Efarmo is more like Twitter with a little of Instagram and maybe TikTok. I don't think I'll ever touch on 4chan although there would be something like it here.
Not so Different
Tenochtitlan - October 23, 2018, 0900 hours
Gebhard got out of his car and entered the newly rebuilt command center. Inside, a Mexican soldier approached him.
“I’m sorry, this area’s off-limits,” he said.
Gebhard practically shoved his ID card in the young man’s face and then stormed past him. He quickly found Ollin’s office and entered. Ollin sat at his desk, reading a book.
“Ah, hello, General Remmele,” Ollin said, “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“As have I,” Gebhard said, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ollin said, “How was Tejas?”
“Standard operating procedure, counterterrorism,” Gebhard said, “I met with Sun Fish, and can you believe it?”
“Didn’t he retire?” Ollin said.
“More like I tried to fire him,” Gebhard said, “But somehow he’s now Thordarsson’s man in charge of the plains campaign. He had trouble with Paulluists in Tejas and requested my help.”
“They’re Paulluists?” Ollin said. “I was told they’re moderates.”
“Not really moderate if they’re rampaging across Tejas, are they?” Gebhard said.
“You get the idea, I was told they’re moderates,” Ollin said.
“Apparently not,” Gebhard said, “So why are you arming them?”
“ME?” Ollin said. “Arming them?”
“The Osage government tells me you and Chancellor Cicoatl are arming the Paulluists,” Gebhard said, “I have the proof right here. Satellite images from Tejas.”
He showed Ollin some pictures. “So what are you doing starting proxy wars?”
“Cicoatl told me we were arming moderates against a potential MSC resurgence,” Ollin said.
“He lied to you,” Gebhard said.
“I’ll have to talk to him once I'm done here,” Ollin said, “Thanks for letting me know.”
“I also want to apologize, before we go our separate ways,” Gebhard said, “For my outburst the last time we talked. I was under a lot of stress, the media was not cooperating, and Zolin had taken Tenochtitlan…”
“It’s okay, Gebhard,” Ollin said, “We were all under a lot of stress. And we got it back much sooner than we expected. Tenochtitlan is now Zolin’s prison.”
“By the way, when will you hand him over to the International Criminal Court?” Gebhard said. “We’ve had him since last February.”
“We technically already did,” Ollin said, “They’re just keeping him here under armed guard while they gather the evidence and testimonies.”
“Two years to gather testimonies,” Gebhard said, “While Varennikov was sentenced by the end of 1986.”
“At least with Varennikov it was more obvious,” Ollin said.
“What about Zolin isn’t obvious?” Gebhard said. “He sold thousands into slavery, murdered thousands more, sent millions fleeing from their homes, burned down cities, and flayed innocent journalists alive on livestreams, among other things. We have plenty of proof, Huicton. We should throw him in jail now.”
“I don’t make the laws, Gebhard, but what does it look like I’m doing?” Ollin said. “I’m holding this guy at my own expense while the UN gets its act together. I basically retired from active duty for this. Meanwhile Boris gets to go home. I’m frustrated too, okay?”
“Where are you holding him anyways?” Gebhard said.
“I’ll show you,” Ollin said.
They walked down the hallway and descended several flights of stairs, entering a wing filled with prison cells.
“This command center was built on the site of an abandoned Zolton-era prison for political dissidents and critics of the regime,” Ollin said, “Only fitting its only prisoner now is former Zolton-era commander Ocuil Zolin himself. A guy who served under me, no less.”
They stopped in front of a cell, and Ollin opened the window. Inside, Gebhard could see a plainly adorned room. It wasn’t as bad as a Russian jail and looked more like a plain apartment in some places, but it was clearly a prison cell. A bearded man sat on the bed, watching TV. His ornate traditional Mexica garb and headdress were replaced with a prison jumpsuit, and his hair had been cut. He hardly looked like the intimidating terrorist leader from all of those videos.
“Here to gloat again, Ollin?” Zolin said. “I’m not answering your questions. You know I won’t answer them.”
“Funny, because I wasn’t going to ask you anything anyways,” Ollin said.
“Funny how we ended up like this,” Zolin said, “How long has it been since we were both here? Twenty years?”
“Probably 25 years,” Ollin said, “Back then, you at least obeyed my orders.”
“And unlike you, I remained loyal,” Zolin said, “When Zolton fell, you immediately sold out the country to the infidels. Just like Acacitli Huemac betrayed us during the Sunset Humiliation.”
“I did what I could to protect my people,” Ollin said, "And so did Huemac."
“Far from it,” Zolin said, “You abandoned them. You cast down your gods and your people to worship the infidels and let them plunder our country. We were once an empire feared around the world. Our faith in our gods was unshakeable, and our armies were unstoppable. But look at us now. The country barely exists. Our gods are disgraced at every opportunity. Infidels plunder the land for their own gain because of our weakness. We have no dignity or pride. I wanted to give it back to our people and gods. Unlike you, I wanted to make us proud again. Proud to be Mexica.”
“And yet you misinterpret everything the codices say to suit your goals,” Ollin said, “Tearing our entire passages and turning back time to abandon all of the innovations to the faith we’ve made over the years.”
“Passages and innovations that were more harmful than they were worth,” Zolin said, “They were responsible for our downfall. And if people trust those parts, they are every bit as part of the problem as those parts are.”
“You’re wrong,” Ollin said, “You don’t have the authority to decide that. What you’re doing will only destroy the country more. It will continue the cycle of violence and death that’s dominated Cemanahuac ever since we invaded the sunrise lands. With all of these calls to violence, we’ll only inspire more vengeance and more violence which will beget itself in greater numbers. We will never heal. We will never move on from our past. Huemac realized it, only he realized it too late.”
“Why would we abandon our past?” Zolin said. “That’s the reason we lost our way. When we stopped sacrifices to the gods, our armies began faltering on the battlefield. When we stopped the flower wars, the Romans destroyed us. And then came the years of humiliation, the years of PARA and Zolton. The regimes that took everything from our families, you know.”
Ollin hesitated for a moment.
“You have no right to talk about my family,” Ollin said.
“We’re not that different,” Zolin said, “We’re both from big rural families. We grew up poor. Our fathers barely made ends meet working in the maize fields, after PARA robbed and killed our grandfathers. So we joined Zolton’s army to change things. And here we are. Only you sold out in the end.”
“We are NOTHING alike,” Ollin said, “You keep calling me a sell out, but at least I still love my country and my people. I would never have done anything to harm them, unlike you with your destruction and carnage. I at least protect my family.”
“The fact still remains most of your family is dead,” Zolin said, “I heard about it from an old friend of ours. What was it again, some coalition air strike in the early days of the invasion? One you could’ve easily prevented? But you didn’t want the infidels to know you broke their encryption, did you? How does it feel to work with them now? Knowing all this?”
Ollin remained silent. His fists clenched up.
“I have nothing more to say to you,” he said.
He shut the window.
---
Aside from one more viewpoint update for Gebhard in 2020, this is the end of the Mexico war arc. After this, I'm going to focus more on Boris, Kurt, and Gustav as they go home and leave the military.
- 2
I'm getting a lot of vibes between Zolin and Ollin's moment here and Valetin's meeting with Otto and Erich towards the end of the WW3 arc. Guess I was onto something when I compared Zolin to Valentin once when this arc first started. Kind of wish Zolin was beaten up like Valentin was in those scenes I mentioned.
Alright, I'll miss Olin and Gebhard, but at least Boris, Kurt and Gustav will have their own stories after the war. I'm glad the Mexico war at least came to a proper conclusion with Olin confronting Zolin, it's nice to see a conclusive ending to that arc.
Beating up Zolin would only prove him write, that Ollin is a hypocrite who still perpetuates the cycle of violence, while just turning away shows Ollin and Mexico are set on a new path, free of the legacy Zolin represents.
Gebhard might pop up again in the future, to be clear, but I'm focusing more on Kurt and Gustav, with some viewpoints for Boris.
Zolin makes a good argument, but he's wrong... well, so long as Wilhelm doesn't do anything especially stupid.
Or Zhao...or any of the other wannabe dictators and authoritarians...
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Or examinations in this TTL's case.
Yes, I know Penglai is a "democracy", but there are similar populist movements in meritocratic countries we know of and established, like in Yavadi for example.
It becomes quite easy to rig an examination if you don't have something as rigorous as the Roman Bureau of Qualifications.Or examinations in this TTL's case.
Yes, I know Penglai is a "democracy", but there are similar populist movements in meritocratic countries we know of and established, like in Yavadi for example.
- 1
Long Live the Kaiser
Tesla Dynamic refinery, Persian Gulf coast - December 6, 2018, 9:00 AM
Theodor led Wilhelm Karl through the refinery. Both were dressed in clean black suits, a stark contrast to the overalls and hard hats worn by the workers below them. The workers attended to the pipes and machinery pumping oil out of the ground, oblivious to the presence of their divinely ordained Kaiser.
“So this is hydraulic fracturing,” Wilhelm Karl said, “In a Tesla Dynamic facility, no less. You say so much about fighting the climate crisis, but why does this place still exist?”
“My uncle made a lot of oil investments in his youth,” Theodor said, “We have a substantial chunk of the oil industry. I’m trying to wean the company off oil, along with everyone else. As you know, it’s hard. I'm still working on a way to reassign all these workers to our new solar power facilities.”
“I appreciate your dedication,” Wilhelm Karl said, “It is good to hear there are plenty of people like you who want to change the world. Reminds me a lot of Admiral Trunk, may he rest in peace..”
“I remember Trunk,” Theodor said, “He was the Megas Droungarios in the later days of World War III, wasn’t he? He knew what had to be done in the fight against equalism and the battle for a free world. May he rest in peace. We would do well to heed his warnings about the radical left.”
“Trunk knew what he had to do to win the sea war,” Wilhelm Karl said, “And he had no qualms about doing it. Trapped and sunk the entire Soviet Black Sea fleet in a matter of weeks. Great men are like him. Unafraid to make difficult decisions.”
He stopped and looked at Theodor. “You will be attending my coronation in two weeks, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Theodor said.
“I could introduce you to some friends of mine,” Wilhelm Karl said, “While I can’t personally help you out, I know people who can.”
“Wait what?” Theodor said.
“You heard me,” Wilhelm Karl said.
“I know, yes, but, it’s just that...your wife...” Theodor said.
“So what if Francesca is a Thyssen?” Wilhelm Karl said. “She already sold her stake in her family’s company. I assure you, there is no conflict of interest there. But I do want to help you out. Our goals align. You want to rebuild Tesla Dynamic and return it to its rightful place as our national champion. As Kaiser, I do not want to dawdle around as my father did. I want to be a leader who does something for this nation. I’m not waiting for the idiots in the Diet. I’m going to get things done and take back control. A strong Tesla Dynamic is central to reclaiming control of this nation.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Theodor said, “I’d be honored to work with you. Our government is really broken. We need all the help we can get.”
“There will be many who don’t like what I do, you know,” Wilhelm Karl said, “The media already has it out for me, because of stuff I said years ago. They took all those ridiculous quotes out of context or overreacted to them. Some, I admit, were in bad taste, and I regret those. But I don’t regret saying the others. The media, though, hasn’t budged a single bit. They’re still trying to ruin my reputation by pouncing on literally anything I might say. I suspect they want my abdication too. They’d rather have my brother Georg. He’s their puppet, you know.”
“Right, Prince Georg,” Theodor said, “They all love him and his foundation. More glaring evidence of leftist infiltration, bias, control, and censorship over the mainstream media.”
“What they don’t tell you is how that charity is a front for his money laundering to other well-connected individuals, among them those in the media,” Wilhelm Karl said, “They wouldn’t want to kill their golden goose, right?”
“Of course, of course,” Theodor said.
“We need to strike back against the media,” Wilhelm Karl said, “They’ve been taken over by powerful people with their own agendas. A new Sentinel, if you will. We have to fix that. We must retake control of our country.”
Berlin Imperial Cathedral - December 16, 2018, 12:00 PM
Wilhelm Karl wore full imperial regalia, wearing the purple robes that had been worn by all Kaisers and Kaiserins before him, all the way back to Friedrich the Glorious. He walked into the church and down the aisle as choir music echoed through the cathedral. Politicians, generals, and nobles sat in the pews, along with their families, dressed in their finest clothes. Wilhelm Karl had spared no expense for the coronation, even though he wanted it to happen as soon as possible so he could get to work faster. He knelt before Ecumenical Patriarch Alexios.
“Almighty, everlasting God, your servant…” he began.
“Behold, the angels sent forth…” sang the choir.
“God, who knows the human race…Almighty and everlasting God of heaven and earth…” Alexios said, reading from a rather thick prayer book.
He looked at Wilhelm Karl. “Will you defend the holy faith?”
“Without question,” Wilhelm Karl said.
“Will you defend the holy church?”
“With my life.”
“Will you defend the Reich and its people at all costs?”
“I will be the sword and shield of the nation.”
“Will you maintain the laws of the Reich and protect the Augustinian Code?”
“I will defend our nation’s values and our civilization from the barbarians seeking to destroy us, both from within and without.”
“Will you maintain justice and order within the Reich and around the world?”
“I will bring order to the world and decide what is justice.”
“Will you show submission to the Pope?”
“He should know his place.”
Wilhelm Karl was already regretting all of the formalities. Alexios gave him a funny look. Maybe it would have been better if he just said "Yes." Then he picked up the bottle of holy oil and anointed Wilhelm Karl on his head and shoulders. It was smelly and...oily.
“Bless, Lord, this emperor,” he said, “I anoint you, Holy Kaiser, with the oil of sanctification in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
He rubbed holy oil on Wilhelm Karl’s palms. “Let these hands be anointed, as emperors and prophets were anointed, and as Samuel anointed David to be king, may you be blessed and established emperor in this empire over this people, whom the Lord, your God, has graciously given you to rule and govern, which he vouchsafes to grant, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns…”
Wilhelm Karl donned the purple imperial robes. Alexios handed him Enonon, the dynasty’s ancestral sword forged by Friedrich the Great himself during the First Crusade. The ancient blade had been through hundreds of battles and been at countless turning points in history. Now it was his to wield. It felt very heavy.
“Receive this sword at the hands of us bishops and patriarchs,” he said.
He placed a ring on Wilhelm Karl’s finger, forged from the shattered pieces of an old brooch Friedrich the Great used to wear, before it was shattered during a fateful battle in Syria against the caliph.
“Receive this ring of imperial dignity,” he said.
He handed Wilhelm Karl the imperial scepter and orb of the old Holy Roman Emperors. The orb was a little smaller than he expected. The scepter was also heavier than he thought would be.
“Receive this rod of virtue and equity,” he said.
Finally, he picked up the imperial crown, which sat on the head of every past Kaiser, and handed it to Wilhelm Karl.
“Receive this imperial crown,” he said.
Without another word, Wilhelm Karl took the crown and put it on his own head. It was very uncomfortable.
“Holy!” everyone proclaimed.
“Rise, Kaiser Wilhelm, fourth of your name,” Alexios said, “And take your throne.”
Wilhelm Karl got to his feet and sat on the imperial throne, delivered several blocks down from Brandenburg Palace just for the occasion. Francesca sat on a similar throne next to him, wearing a fine dress custom made by the best tailors in the nation. He looked out over the assembled dignitaries as the national anthem played. Outside, military bands played and crowds shouted (there were plenty who had already made up their minds about what kind of person he was) as his triumph began its march down Unter den Linden to the Brandenburg Gate. He would meet them there later to be raised on ceremonial shields and ceremonially proclaimed Kaiser again, in the manner of First and Second Empire rulers. He’d only have time for a short speech the media would probably misinterpret again. He had a lot to do today.
“All hail His Imperial Majesty Wilhelm IV, August Kaiser of the Romans, Emperor of the Greeks and Germans, Holy Roman Emperor of the German Princes, Emperor of Britannia, Arabia, Carpathia, etc., King of Jerusalem and Germany, Duke of Brandenburg and Thrace, Count of Berlin, Constantinople, and Jerusalem, Protector of the Weak and the Oppressed, Defender of the Christian Faith, Protector of the Realm, King of Kings, Descendant of the Saoshyant and the Prophet, Chosen Steward of Jerusalem and Guardian of the Melekh Yisrael…” Alexios read off.
He looked over the dignitaries, basking in the attention they were giving him. The Anhorns beamed with pride. Thierry Baudet and his lieutenants stood and joined the others in giving him a standing ovation. Merkel and her cabinet just smiled, probably limited by political custom. His family members were conflicted. Prince Georg looked down in boredom. His distant cousins either enthusiastically clapped or sat quietly. The elders gave no indication of how they approved of him. He’d have to check with them later.
As he looked over the crowd, his eyes settled on three people standing near the door. He did a double take and focused on them, not believing what he saw. But it was unmistakably Otto, Victoria Louise, and Elisabeth Alexandra standing there, watching him. They all gave him a disapproving look. Wilhelm Karl blinked, and they were gone. What good was their approval now that he was Kaiser and they were all dead? He would show them. He would prove them completely wrong. He would be a better Kaiser than any of them.
Berlin Imperial Cathedral - 12:20 PM
After joining Argus, Kurt’s days passed by in a blur. He spent most of his hours training newer recruits and filling out paperwork, and soon he received command of his and Gustav's platoon. It was a welcome change from his tour. But he missed feeling the metal of a gun in his arm, for some reason. So he jumped eagerly at the chance to provide security at the coronation. He was now lounging outside the cathedral, monitoring the large crowd in front of him. Thousands had packed the park around the cathedral, and thousands more no doubt packed the rest of Museum Island and lined Unter den Linden, hoping to get a glimpse of their new Kaiser. Not all of them were happy with him, though. There was a huge gap running down the middle of the park. On Kurt’s side were regular people who wanted to mark the occasion. On Gustav’s side were angry students waving signs and shouting profanities and insults at the regular people.
“Literally Angelos!”
“We say no to fascism!”
“Women’s rights are human rights!”
“Remember Elisabeth Alexandra!"
“This is not what Friedrich the Great envisioned!”
“Remember what happened to the last Kaiser Wilhelm? Maximist or not?”
“Justice for Elisabeth Alexandra!”
“Not my Kaiser!”
“Here’s how Prince Georg can still become Kaiser!”
Gustav looked really stressed and tired, even though they’d only been here for an hour.
“Want to switch?” Kurt asked.
“You do not want to switch, Kurt,” Gustav said, “If we did, half the crowd would be dead.”
“What are you saying about me?” Kurt said.
“Just pointing it out,” Gustav said.
“These kids don’t know what they’re doing,” Kurt said.
“Yeah,” Gustav said, “Too sheltered by their colleges. Can’t tolerate new ideas. Seriously?”
“What has this country come to?” Kurt said.
“At least the people on your side see reason,” Gustav said.
“I wish all Romans were like this,” Kurt said, “Patriotic, welcoming, and open.”
“Isn’t that what this country was founded on?” Gustav said. “Tolerance and equality?”
“So why do they want to silence those who disagree with them?” Kurt said.
“Didn’t we fight like three world wars against that?” Gustav said.
“Yeah, they’re dumb,” Kurt said.
He aggressively brandished his gun and made an angry face at the kids behind Gustav, who panicked and fled, dropping their signs and shoving each other away. The rest of the crowd turned inward and began shouting at each other, criticizing each other with greater intensity than they had just been criticizing the Kaiser and his supporters. Kurt and Gustav laughed.
“Look at them go,” Kurt said, “Millennials. Kids these days…”
The cathedral doors slowly swung open to the sound of trumpets and bagpipes. Accompanied by his wife and son, Wilhelm Karl descended the steps and waved to the adoring crowd, dressed in elaborate coronation robes. The ancient imperial crown sat on his head, and the sword of Friedrich the Great was strapped to his side. The royal family got into a waiting convertible at the bottom, which turned onto Unter den Linden. TV screens placed on the cathedral walls tracked it as it traveled down the street. There were no protesters here, thankfully, only cheering crowds waving Roman flags. Wilhelm Karl smiled and waved back. After a few minutes, the convertible drove under Brandenburg Gate and stopped, where several soldiers carrying ceremonial First Empire shields waited. Wilhelm Karl got out of his car, and the soldiers boosted him up on the shields.
“Long live the Kaiser!” they shouted.
“Long live the Kaiser!” the crowd repeated.
Brandenburg Palace - December 16, 7:00 PM
“Chancellor Tsai!” Georg said.
He walked to the entrance and hugged Tsai as she walked into the reception hall.
“So nice to see you here,” he said.
“Likewise,” Tsai said.
“You look great,” Georg said.
“Thanks,” Tsai said, trying to straighten out her traditional Chinese dress, “But honestly, it feels a little uncomfortable.”
She looked at the woman and younger man accompanying Georg. “Your family?”
“Ah, yes,” Georg said, “Let me introduce them. This is my wife Eilika, and that’s my son, Paul.”
“Nice to meet you, Chancellor Tsai,” Eilika said, shaking her hand.
“Prince Georg tells me a lot about you,” Tsai said.
“Oh really?” Eilika said.
“Why at our last meeting, he was talking about your rather hilarious drunk singing last month,” Tsai said
“YOU TOLD HER THAT?!” Eilika shouted at Georg.
“Uh, Eilika, it was a funny story to bring up at the time,” Georg stammered.
“Did he tell you his attempt to dance to that?” Eilika said.
“He did?” Tsai said.
“I’m going to step out,” Paul said, wisely disappearing into the crowd of dignitaries.
“Yeah, while I was trying to sing Friedrich Hermes he was trying to dance,” Eilika said.
“You sounded like you were a Normaal singer,” Georg said.
“Did not!” Eilika said. “You weren’t even dancing! You were moving around like a penguin!”
“Okay, I admit I’m not the best dancer, honey, but I am most definitely not penguin level bad!” Georg said.
Tsai simply laughed.
“Oh, sorry,” Eilika said, “Didn’t mean to drag you into that.”
“It’s fine,” Tsai said.
“How about you?” Eilika said. "Anybody come here with you?”
“Nope,” Tsai said, “No husband or kids. I’m honestly too busy with my career.”
“I see,” Eilika said.
“You could say I’m married to the country,” Tsai joked.
“I’m pretty sure one of the Kaiserins tried to pull that,” Georg said.
“Which one?” Tsai said.
“Pretty sure it was Wilhelmina II,” Georg said.
“No, it was her sister Victoria I,” Eilika said, “Wilhelmina just had no children.”
“Right,” Georg said.
“And what happened to her?” Tsai said.
“She was pretty old already and died not long afterward,” Georg said.
“Oh,” Tsai said, “Anyways…so your brother is Kaiser now.”
“Officially,” Georg said, “I don’t like to dwell on that.”
“Georg is pretty private when it comes to these matters,” Eilika said.
“I can tell,” Tsai said.
“To be frank, we’re not on good terms,” Georg said, “I’m only here as a courtesy.”
“As a what?” Wilhelm Karl said, walking over to them.
“Oh hello, Brother,” Georg said.
Wilhelm Karl didn’t respond.
“Wilhelm Karl,” Eilika said.
“Ah yes, Duchess Eilika von Arpad,” Wilhelm Karl said, “Nice to see you. And your son?”
“He’s off somewhere,” Eilika said.
“Tsai Ing-wen,” Tsai said, shaking Wilhelm Karl’s hand.
“Yes, I know who you are, Chancellor,” Wilhelm Karl said, “And if you’re asking about the trade deal revisions, I’m not committed to anything yet.”
“I wasn’t asking,” Tsai said.
“Anyways, back to what I walked over here for,” Wilhelm Karl said, “I was just passing by and couldn’t help but overhear my own brother say something about being here as a courtesy. Would you care to explain, Georg?”
“Honestly, Karl, I don’t even care anymore,” Georg said, “You heard right.”
“Don’t be silly, Georg,” Eilika said, “Wilhelm Karl, I’m sure he’s glad to meet you here…”
“You don't know your husband then,” Wilhelm Karl said, “I know my brother, and we have never gotten along.”
“Agreed,” Georg said.
The people around them could feel the tension boiling over. They nervously stepped away and spoke in hushed tones.
“So why are you even here then?” Wilhelm Karl said. “Don’t you have to attend to the needs of those Eimerican peasants?”
Georg handed his glass of wine to Eilika. “Don’t you dare call them peasants.”
“I’m only being honest,” Wilhelm Karl said, “They technically are.”
“I’m just trying to do my part in helping the people of the continent move past almost a hundred years of dictatorship and suffering,” Georg said.
“By dipping your hands in the mud?” Wilhelm Karl said. “Sullying the image of the throne? Of our ancient dynasty?”
“If anything I'm revitalizing the Hohenzollerns’ image in the modern day,” Georg said, “They’ll see me as a humanitarian, not as another lazy royal gallivanting around high society.”
“This is below your station, Brother,” Wilhelm Karl said, “If the Eimericans couldn’t have pulled themselves out of their mess sometime in the last hundred years, the efforts of one man won’t make any difference, even if that man happens to be third in line to the throne. Now, we all tolerated it when Father and our dear sister were still alive. But now I’m Kaiser. And you would do well to not call me another lazy royal.”
“What are you getting at?” Georg said.
“It wouldn’t reflect well on our family, and me especially, if my own brother, an imperial prince, were to spend most of his time in Eimerican villages handing out water and food to poor kids instead of staying at home to guide the ship of state,” Wilhelm Karl said, “I'd rather you pack up, come home, and start acting like a respectable prince and my brother. Be a man for goodness sake and get your head out of the clouds. Idealism never ends well.”
“You know I never liked politics,” Georg said, “That was always Sis’ thing.”
“Still, the fact is you spend more time in North Eimerica than in your own homeland, as if you were some hippie nomad instead of an heir to the most powerful nation in the world,” Wilhelm Karl said.
“You want to say that again?” Georg said, rolling up his sleeves.
“Go ahead, punch me,” Wilhelm Karl said, “Release all that rage. Hit your own brother. Hit your own Kaiser on the day of his coronation. Hit him in full view of the most powerful and influential people in the world. Hit him while dozens of cameras roll and hundreds more are ready to go. Hit me, knowing you’ll only cause a scene for yourself. You’ll only destroy what little credibility you have left. The world will see you for what you truly are. A pathetic old man who abandoned his own people.”
Georg glared at him for a few tense seconds, while Tsai and Eilika prepared to restrain him if it came to that. But Georg sighed and backed down. Wilhelm Karl smiled smugly.
“I’m not surprised,” he said, “I knew you wouldn’t do it. Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. Perhaps the others in attendance might. But not me. I think I’ve said enough. Go back to North Eimerica and stay there if you love it so much and your homeland means so little. Maybe someday I could visit.”
He walked away, head held high. Georg continued glaring at him, still privately fuming.
“Calm down, honey,” Eilika said.
“Damn you Karl,” Georg finally spat, through gritted teeth, “Damn you.”
- 1
Long live the Kaiser.... And it seems the tradition of seeing dead relatives continues.
No way am I going to stop using the force ghosts now, especially when the entire family can be involved.