Constantinople - February 28
Briefings on foreign intelligence were classified at the highest degree. The information shared in them would only be distributed on a need-to-know basis. It was particularly important for the operation to infiltrate Lombardi’s government. If the wrong person learned that there was a spy with direct access to Lombardi and his cabinet, the Empire would lose its advantages, and the reunification effort would be dealt a fatal blow. So only Theodora, Donatello, and Alvértos met with Omar Mukhtar in a heavily guarded soundproof room underneath the Great Palace.
“Our agent remains secure,” Omar explained, “Her cover is in no danger of being blown. Her team has been extremely thorough.”
“Are the contingency plans ready?” Theodora said.
“If need be, we can slip poison into Lombardi’s drink on His Majesty’s order.” Omar looked to Alvértos for a signal, but the Emperor shook his head. “I thought so. Presumably he has someone checking his food and drinks for poison already. Alternatively, our agent can rig an explosive and remotely detonate it when—”
“After what happened to that man’s father, I doubt it would work again,” Donatello said.
“We ought to keep him alive for now,” Theodora said, “I believe he can still be reasoned with.”
“Reasoned?” Donatello stared at her. “That man has made it clear he will never accept our terms!”
“Perhaps we haven’t given the right terms.”
“And what would you suggest?”
“The Foederati Plan,” Theodora said.
“Preliminary intel suggests at least some of the breakaways are receptive to the Foederati Plan,” Omar noted, “After 27 years, many of the rebel leaders and hardline separatists who led the rebellions are retired or dead. Some of their successors aren’t as hardline.”
“It is worth trying,” Alvértos said, “I would rather we reunite the Empire with as little bloodshed as we can.”
“I agree,” Theodora said.
“Speaking of bloodshed, did our agent find anything to hint at Italy’s position in Dresden?”
“The rest of the team believes Lombardi made a decision on the 26th, but our agent at the meeting was forced to leave before she could record it,” Omar said, “The rest of the cabinet would support anything he says. They’re all yes-men at this point.”
“Do we have any idea, though?” Donatello asked.
“It could go either way at this point. Italy has a vested interest in supporting either side. Further Hungarian expansion could bring it into conflict with Italy. The same is true of Germany. On the other hand, Hungary and Burgundy have strong ties, and we know Burgundy is a key Italian ally. But lately there have been rumors of a rift between Lombardi and Rhaban, so siding with Germany in retaliation isn’t out of the question. Then again, after the Squadristi incident, Lombardi may hesitate to work alongside fascists. However…”
“However?” Theodora said.
“There was one argument that seems to have resonated with Lombardi. Our agent wrote down what one of the ministers said.” Omar flipped through his files. “Here, let me read it. ‘We’re ignoring the heart of the matter. This dispute is over the fate of Silesia. The land in question is filled with mostly German-speaking people who live under Hungarian rule. Regardless of the disposition of either government, the people of Silesia deserve the right to decide their own fate. Would we not demand the same if there was a region of Italians not part of the Roman Republic?’ At that, Lombardi became quiet and withdrawn from the rest of the meeting, as if in thought. Before, he seemed to not have much to think about. But those words seemed to be something worth considering to him.”
“It’s similar to my own suggestion, isn’t it?” Theodora said. “Let the people of Silesia decide for themselves what to do with their land, instead of using them as chess pieces in a game between the regional powers.”
“That’s not going to get him on the Empire’s side,” Donatello said, “You know that.”
“Still, it’s something we can talk about with him,” Theodora said, “Hopefully, it’ll be a place from which we can start negotiations.”
“But what if he turns it around on us?”
“Then we’ll figure something out,” Theodora said.
Dresden - March 2
The hotel was bustling with activity now. The streets around it were jammed with the cars of dignitaries and barricades set up by security details. Flags from all of the major powers fluttered around the front door, and each delegation was slowly making their way inside. The Germans and Poles entered together. The Hungarian delegates all had their heads bowed, as if they were on trial for murder. The Russians refused to even look at Theodora, Alvértos, Donatello, and the other Romans. The Burgundians and Italians, surprisingly, didn’t enter together. The MSI had said there appeared to be a rift forming between the two, but Theodora had thought they would at least try to put on an appearance of unity this week. Alexander and the Church delegation, which had traveled on the same flight as the Romans out of convenience, entered after the Romans.
“Kira.” Theodora glanced to her side, where Kira was following behind her. The foreseer had dyed her hair, put on fake glasses, and wore a slightly oversized dress to disguise her appearance in case the Cult was here. “Are you feeling any better?”
Kira shook her head. “No. I still feel…impaired.” They chose their words carefully. It was dangerous talking about her ability in public. That had never happened before. Usually, Kira could see the future without interference. So why wasn’t it working now, of all days? She needed Kira to tell her which sides the other nations were going to take. If she can’t use her ability, then why did I—no, stop that. Not everything has to be done in the most pragmatic way, Theodora.
“What is it like?”
“It’s as if…all of the threads are getting tangled up with each other.” Kira’s eyes darted from left to right as if trying to read the future again. “They’re too blurry to see anything.”
“Well, let’s hope it clears up at some point.”
“Yes.”
While Alvértos and Donatello were escorted to the second floor, from where they would observe the conference and coordinate with the rest of the Roman delegation, Theodora and her diplomats entered one of the reception halls. Flags for each participant nation—including one Theodora didn’t immediately recognize—were placed against the wall. The center of the hall was taken up by a large table. The seating arrangements were done in such a way that the Germans and Poles took up one of the shorter sides and the Hungarians the other, with everybody else sitting in between them. Once everybody had taken their seats, the German delegate stood up.
“Welcome, everybody. Welcome to Dresden.” Everybody fell silent, while the various press corps from each nation began snapping pictures. “First, I’d like to welcome each of the delegates who have taken time out of their busy schedules to make it here this week. I am Jens Willem, representing the United Provinces of Germany. Representing the Miedzymorze Commonwealth, Janislaw Gottfried.” The Polish delegate smiled. “Count Gyula Frigyes, representing the Kingdom of Hungary.” It sounded as if Jens was spitting the words out of his mouth. Many people in the room, mainly from the German and Polish delegations, hissed loudly. “For the Republic of Russia, Oleg Turov. Representing the Scandinavian Federation, Valdemar Styrkar. From the Papal State of Burgundy, Priest Reinhard Georg.” Reinhard Georg shot a glare at Alexander. “From the Roman Republic, Ferdinando Ricci. From the Republic of Free Britain, Edgar Kilikos.” Theodora raised an eyebrow. Why were breakaways invited? Perhaps it was a show of power by the Baltic Axis over the Empire. “Representing the long defunct Kingdom of Silesia, the self-styled Prince Vaclav Szepessy.” Theodora and the Romans were the only ones to acknowledge the young Vaclav, who wore a regular business suit. The House of Szepessy had ruled over an independent Silesia between 1778 and 1836. The 1820s marked the peak of Silesian prestige and power, as it was considered a center of culture and learning. Unfortunately, it could not hold back a Hungarian invasion which ultimately spelled the end of Silesia as an independent state and led to where they were now. “His Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Alexander, representing the Orthodox Church as a neutral mediator.” Reinhard scoffed quietly. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” Jens let out a light chuckle, an almost mocking one. “Representing the Roman Empire, Sebastokrator Theodora Doukas.” Theodora clenched her fist for a brief moment before she regained her composure, careful not to let the cameras see anything.
After naming every delegation, Jens stepped back. “Before we begin, I would like to welcome Bishop Benedict Schauble from the Diocese of Dresden to lead us in prayer.” He beckoned to an older man in the garbs of a bishop.
“I object.” Reinhard Georg stood up, and Benedict froze in his tracks.
Confused, Jens looked at Reinhard. “Is there a problem, Ambassador Georg?”
“Bishop Benedict represents the Orthodox Church, does he not?”
“Oh great, not this again…” Theodora muttered quietly.
Alexander tensed up.
“Yes,” Jens said, “Why wouldn’t he?”
“Burgundy refuses to go along with a prayer following the doctrine of the Empire’s Church. It is an insult to Burgundy.”
Though he said nothing, Ferdinando Ricci watched the developing argument closely.
“I mean you and Burgundy no disrespect,” Benedict said, “As everybody in this room knows, the Church is an international one, a one that is katholikos, or universal. We do not tie ourselves to any one secular state, for we represent all Christians before God, whether they be of the Eastern Rite, Latin Rite, or any other rite.”
Theodora smiled. Don’t get mad because the Church has a better claim to the word “catholic” than whatever Rhaban’s got.
Reinhard turned to Alexander. “Is this true?”
Alexander nodded. “Yes, it is. We have made no efforts to hide our recent efforts to disentangle ourselves from the affairs of nations lately.”
“The recent reforms in the Empire separating itself from the Church’s affairs are part of that,” Theodora said.
“And yet the Church delegation traveled to Dresden together with the Roman delegation, and your two delegations sit alongside each other.”
“Like any other diplomatic delegation, we are free to choose our method of transportation and who we sit with,” Alexander quickly shot back.
“It is no different from what the Burgundian and Italian delegations, to say nothing of the German and Polish delegations, have done,” Theodora added. I thought my team and I were supposed to be the ones negotiating, not His Holiness. “Like those delegations, the Roman and Church delegations may travel together, but we act independently.” She stressed that last word while making eye contact with Reinhard and Ferdinando.
“As Sebastokrator Doukas has stated, the Church will act independently of any nation, to remain free of worldly ties that get in the way of its primary loyalty to God.” Now Alexander had moved on to address the flashing cameras, brandishing his miraculous staff for all to see. “In the coming months, we will be presiding over further reforms within the Church as we redefine our relationship with the nations of man and our approach to shepherding the global faith.”
Murmurs emerged from many of the observers and some of the delegates. Even a few of the papal delegates looked shocked. Their eyes darted between Reinhard and Alexander. Some whispered to each other, and although Theodora couldn’t hear any words, she could still hear the doubt they were now sharing with each other. It only took two minutes for us to tear the Burgundians apart, and we haven’t even started talking about Silesia yet.
“Uh…so…anyways…” Jens finally interrupted. “If we may move on to what we actually came here to discuss…Priest Benedict, you may begin the prayer, if nobody else objects.”
Reinahrd opened his mouth, but upon noticing the confusion that was now engulfing his delegation, he said nothing and merely nodded with an angry pout.
“Thank you,” Benedict said, “Let us begin.”
Theodora leaned over to Kira. “Please tell me things get better from here?”
Kira bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”
March 4
“It was my understanding that we are gathered here to discuss the fate of Silesia,” Janislaw said, “Is that right, Count Frigyes?”
“It is,” Gyula said.
“Then why have we spent yesterday talking about geography and today talking about history? About things that are in the past, not the future that is yet to come?”
“If we are to determine the future of Silesia, we must look to the past,” Edgar said.
“Ambassador Gottfried, the past gives ample evidence for Silesia’s future with Germany,” Jens said, “As we’ve established, Silesia was consistently under German or Polish rule throughout nearly the entire medieval era. At the beginning of the early modern period in 1400, the Holy Roman Emperor Meinhard II was even the Mazovian king of Silesia.”
Gyula stood up and shot back. “You skip over the thirteenth century. For most of that century, Silesia was part of Hungary.”
“And so was Poland itself,” Janislaw said, “It was only due to the valiant efforts and the unwavering will of the Polish people that both Poland and Silesia were ultimately freed from Hungarian tyranny.”
“Hungarian tyranny, you say?” Gyula said. “More like Polish tyranny. Consider the records from the fifteenth century. In 1459, Poland invaded and occupied Silesia for a year, only to be driven out by Hungarian troops.”
“Actually, it was a Silesian rebellion that—” Vaclav attempted to get a word in, but he couldn’t before the Hungarian count continued.
“If anything, it was your people who kept invading Silesia, and we were the ones who kept fighting to push you back north.”
“Yet another lie of Hungarian imperialism,” Janislaw said, “You just want Silesia’s resources to fuel your war machine.”
“Who’s to say you wouldn’t do the same?” Gyula said. “In any case, if we ignore Silesia’s strategic importance to Hungary, the people of Silesia have deep ties with Hungary, perhaps deeper than they do with Germany or Poland.”
“Nonsense. Silesia has long been under German or Polish rule. Many Silesians speak German or have long since adopted German customs.”
“That may be true, but an even larger number of Silesians identify themselves as Hungarian and have for centuries. The Silesian kingdom established in 1632 used Hungarian in official capacities and recognized its informal use by the general population.”
“The official language of the court was still German, though,” Jens said.
“Only because King Jan Krystian I and his heir were murdered by Germans in 1644 during a period of civil war, after which the nobility invited a German nobleman, Jerzy Kahl, to be the next king,” Gyula said.
“The records from that year are incomplete. Many of them were burned when Ratibor was sacked. You don’t know Germans were involved in the king’s murder.”
“Yes, but it is likely.”
“This is slander,” Janislaw said, “Now you’re just making stuff up.”
“You know what I’m not making up? That before his death, Jan Krystian I invited Hungarian troops into Silesia to help him fight the rebels…and the Polish troops that armed them. By the way, that part isn’t up for debate. There were Polish troops in Silesia at the time. Perhaps they wanted to conquer Silesia again. But Hungary has always stood by the people of Silesia—” At that, Vaclav scoffed. “—against Polish aggression. We even freed Silesia from twelve years of Polish rule in 1778.”
“Yet the Silesia you speak of was conquered by Hungary in 1836,” Vaclav said, “You put Ratibor to the torch again and reduced our kingdom to little more than a border province, a battlefield for your future wars.”
Janislaw and Gyula continued ignoring him in favor of their ongoing duel of words.
“And what about the parts of Silesia that have only been recently added to Hungary?” Jens said. “From 1615 to 1882, the northern parts of Silesia were part of Bavaria, until you took it!”
“Silesia declared its independence in 1882, but that independence was taken from us by Hungary!” Vaclav said. “Why won’t you listen to me?!”
“Our annexation of Bavarian Silesia was internationally recognized by all of the major European powers via the Treaty of Breslau in 1882.”
“And the seizure of German Silesia merely nine years ago?!”
“Also recognized by Germany as per the Second Treaty of Breslau in 1928.”
“A treaty that we were forced to sign,” Jens said, “Hungary was the aggressor. They invaded Germany solely to take Silesia from us, then imposed the Second Treaty of Breslau. We are seeking not only the abrogation of that treaty, but also the rightful return of all of Silesia to Germany.”
“Can we pause for a moment?” Valdemar said. “I would like some clarification. It is my understanding we are here to discuss if Silesia should be transferred to Germany, but have we never asked why Germany?” He pointed at Janislaw. “What about Poland? We just established that over the last 900 years, control of Silesia has been split between Poland and Hungary, not the German states and Hungary. If anything, Poland has a bigger claim to Silesia than Germany.”
“That is true,” Janislaw said, “Silesia has frequently found itself under Polish rule in the past. But the Commonwealth recognizes that more Germans than Poles call the Silesia region home. So even though we are well within our right to request the return of Silesia, we prefer that our German ally receive Silesia instead. The people of a nation deserve to live within a state that represents them.”
Attempting to play the altruism card, aren’t you? Well, we all see right through it.
“Yet in taking the entirety of Silesia, you would rip away tens of thousands of Hungarians from their own state, and you refuse to let the Poles of Silesia live within Poland,” Gyula said, “Or even the Poles of Germany. What kind of hypocrisy is that?”
“We have our reasons,” Janislaw said.
“I agree,” Jens said.
Theodora focused on that quick exchange. The mention of Poles in Germany should have prompted some questions from Jens to Janislaw, yet the two of them immediately moved on with barely a change in expression. Was something being planned behind the scenes, separate from the conference? Was that why Janislaw didn’t seem to care for those Poles?
“Why must we transfer the entirety of Silesia?” Valdemar said. “Would splitting the region along ethnic lines not be more ideal?”
“You don’t understand,” Jens said, “This isn’t just a matter of the German people being reunited with their German fatherland. It is also an international response to Hungarian expansionism, sending a message that wanton conquest will no longer go unpunished.”
“And in doing that, you would merely push the Silesia issue further into the future,” Theodora said, “Even if you receive Silesia this week, there is no stopping Hungary from calling for another conference and making exactly the same arguments you have.”
“If Hungary does call for a conference, the timing will expose it for the sham that it is.” Janislaw put one hand on the table and pointed at Gyula with the other. “A vengeful and greedy land grab disguised as diplomacy.”
“Who’s to say you aren’t doing the same right now?!” Gyula said.
“Gentlemen!” Ferdinando said. “Let us all calm down. We are not here to trade insults. We are here to deliver fair results, as charged by our leaders.”
“Gentlemen, has nobody considered a third option?” Vaclav suggested.
Gyula, Jens, and Janislaw all looked like they had been personally insulted.
“I’d like to hear it,” Edgar said.
“I second,” Valdemar said.
If there were any other countries here today that would rather not want to commit to either side, just like the Empire did, it would be Free Britain and Scandinavia. Free Britain’s military still consisted of a patchwork of militias and former Imperial Army divisions. Its economy had only just recovered from the chaos of the Great War. President Tharyvoulos Papoulas knew that any war on the continent would devastate Free Britain. The same was true of Scandinavia. There had always been tensions between it and Germany over the status of Denmark. King Christoph and Chancellor Christian Munthe both feared the spread of fascism from German Denmark into Scandinavia, but they also knew that any direct confrontation with Germany, Poland, and possibly Russia would not go well. So the British and Scandinavian delegations would ideally choose a side that would reduce the likelihood of conflict while trying not to alienate the other.
“I move that the Kingdom of Silesia be restored as a neutral nation, with all of its neighbors legally bound to recognize and respect its independence,” Vaclav said.
“Absolutely not,” Gyula said.
“For once, I agree with you,” Jens said.
“Silesia is a province of Hungary. We have invested too much of our time and money into the region to let it go.”
“An independent Silesia will not resolve the issue of the Germans living there. Only German rule will.”
“No, the status quo of Hungarian rule must remain.”
“Yet the Germans of Silesia long to be reunited with their fatherland.”
“The Hungarians of Silesia say otherwise.”
“If I may—” Vaclav’s words were lost as Jens and Gyula continued their argument.
Theodora turned to Kira. “This is going to be a long week.”
Kira looked like she had been pulling an all-nighter. Or maybe she already had. “I would like some more coffee.”
“You and me both.”
March 6
“It’s been a long day today, and we have made significant progress.” Jens stood at the lectern, looking proud of himself. But Theodora sighed. She had tried seconding Vaclav’s independence proposal instead of giving credence to either the German or Hungarian sides, but nobody noticed. “I move that we adjourn until tomorrow.” Even Donatello’s work in the background trying to get allies had yielded little fruit. The Empire’s influence really had fallen that much. If they had held this conference right after Silesia had been annexed 101 years ago, the words of Empress Veronica would have been enough to bring the rest of Europe to heel. But 1937 was different from 1836. the Emperor himself was in attendance. The Logothetes tou Dromou was overseeing the team, while Theodora herself was presenting arguments in the conference room and His Holiness was mediating. Even with all four of them in the same building, the other countries felt safe enough that they could not only shoot down anything Theodora proposed but also outright ignore her.
“Seconded.” Janislaw said.
“Good work.” Jens had already packed up his papers and was on his way out. “I’ll see you tomorrow for closing arguments.”
The other delegates soon left as well, until only Theodora and Edgar, the British delegate, were left. While Theodora continued packing her papers with Kira’s help, Edgar sat in his seat, despite having finished packing.
“Did you need something?” Theodora finally asked.
“Yes, I had a question I’d like to ask,” Edgar said, “It is a sensitive one, though.”
“Ah.” She looked at Kira and the other Roman diplomats who hadn’t left yet. “Please, you can go on ahead. I’ll be fine.” The Romans all departed, leaving just Theodora and Edgar.
“Alright.” Theodora sat down again. “What was it you wanted to discuss?”
Edgar stood up and approached her. “I wanted to discuss the future of the Republic of Free Britain.”
“What does that have to do with Silesia, though?”
“It has everything to do with this conference.” Edgar reached into his briefcase and took out a cigar. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.”
Edgar lit his cigar and put it in his mouth. “Damn good, this brand.”
“Taíno?” Theodora didn’t smoke, but she had seen cigars from that brand being smoked by others in high society before.
“Yes, though they’ve been in short supply during that little Caribbean civil war,” Edgar said, “Fortunately, the UTA’s resolved the matter, and we can expect exports to resume soon. At least once Hayti gets back on its feet. Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Whatever is decided on in this conference will determine the trajectory of European politics for the coming months, and I fear neither trajectory would be ideal for Britain.”
“If Hungary wins, there would be little to rein it in from further expansion.” Hungary would first target the imperial breakaways in the Haimos or Alpine regions. And then… “It would drag in more and more of its neighbors, and we may have another continental war on our hands. And yet if we were to give Germany a victory, it would embolden the fascists. They’d think they could demand whatever land they want and we’d roll over. It would be like Hungary—they’d keep expanding, becoming a conflagration that engulfs the continent.” A conflagration that engulfs the continent…is that what Kira saw? Is that what the Cult wants?
“Which is why I am approaching you now,” Edgar said, “I’ve come to the same conclusion. Victory for either side would only worsen the current tensions, not defuse them, and Prince Vaclav’s third option has little support.”
“If only you had seconded,” Theodora said.
“My hands are tied,” Edgar said, “Between you and me, President Papoulas has urged me to support Germany at the end of the conference.”
“Really?”
“He believes the immediate threat of Hungarian expansionism is worse than the threat of potential future German expansionism. Furthermore, should we deny Germany what it wants, there is no guarantee it will not simply mobilize its troops and immediately invade Hungary. Papoulas wants to avoid that scenario by appeasing Germany.”
“Better the devil you…don’t know?”
“I suppose. But he does agree that supporting Germany is not perfect. We will still be on the path to a worse crisis. And because of that, President Papoulas gave me a secondary task. He wants me to reestablish relations with the Empire.”
Theodora looked shocked. “Come again?”
“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe,” Edgar said, “To you, Papoulas might appear to be an isolationist who cares little for the rest of the continent. And his predecessor as president did rebel against you. But he is dedicated to the people of Britain. The one thing that has guided him for his whole career is a desire to protect the people from wars on the continent. That’s why he wants to placate Germany by giving it what it wants, and that’s why he also wants to restore relations with the Empire.”
“You seek the Empire’s protection when the next crisis—or even war—breaks out?”
“Yes,” Edgar said.
“Would Parliament accept the Empire’s offer, if we were to make one?”
“I believe so, if it is worded correctly. Full reintegration is off the table at the moment. While many of us Vretanói wouldn’t mind, as long as our livelihoods are preserved, Parliament is still full of many from the generation of the rebellion. But they will swallow their pride if it means greater access to the Roman economy and getting the Imperial Army’s backing in case of war.”
“Yet it would be an issue transporting those troops to Britain at the moment.”
“We can work out the logistics later,” Edgar said, “But should the Empire and Free Britain announce a cooperative partnership in the coming weeks, it would send a powerful message. The former breakaways would enjoy the benefits of the Roman economy and the protection of the Roman military without too many concessions, and the Empire would appear resurgent.”
Huh, it’s almost like the Foederati Plan. Almost exactly what I was trying to push for, though I didn’t expect Britain to approach me first. “Alright, I’ll have to talk with my cabinet and His Majesty. I won’t be able to give you more than a verbal guarantee that I’ll talk to them. But off the record? It sounds like a good idea.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Edgar said.
“You have my word that if this deal goes through, we will protect Britain and its people as well as we would ourselves,” Theodora said, “Because we are still one people in the end. It’s time we realized that on both ends.”
March 8
Finally, it came time. After seven days of backroom deals and arguments in the main conference, all nations in attendance were now obligated to declare who they would support: Germany or Hungary.
Valdemar went first. “The Scandinavian Federation supports the status quo.” That came as no surprise to anybody. The ongoing tensions between Germany and Scandinavia meant Hungary was the only option for them.
“The Republic of Free Britain is in favor of transferring Silesia to the United Provinces of Germany.” It was just as Edgar told Theodora two days earlier. President Papoulas was fearful of getting Vretanói killed in a continental war started by Germany if it was denied Silesia, so he wanted to support Germany to appease it. But recognizing the other future that a German victory would result in, he had also sent Edgar to secretly open negotiations with the Empire. When Theodora informed Donatello and Alvértos of this, they were receptive, though they decided to handle the details after the conference was over.
“The Papal State of Burgundy supports the status quo.” No surprise there.
“The Roman Republic is in favor of transferring Silesia to the United Provinces of Germany.” On the other hand, this provoked many gasps from the observers. Reinhard and the Burgundian delegation looked shocked and infuriated. Although Theodora had seen him chatting up quite a lot of people in the side meetings, Ferdinando Ricci hadn’t spoken too much during the main conference itself. This was probably why, to disguise Italy’s decision. Everybody had gone into the conference believing Italy and Burgundy would form a united front. Perhaps even Giuseppe Lombardi wanted to convince Burgundy of that while secretly saying otherwise. That was why there had been a rift in the two delegations earlier that week.
“The Republic of Russia…” Oleg sat back down. “Would like to defer its vote until the end. We request more information on how the other nations have decided first.” He shot a look at Theodora and the Romans, since they were the only other ones who hadn’t taken a stand.
At that, everybody’s eyes fell on Theodora. Damn you, Turov! Damn you, Russia! Why did you have to put pressure on us again?! I swear, I won’t forgive this slight…
“The Roman Empire once again moves that the Kingdom of Silesia be reestablished out of the disputed Hungarian territory as a neutral nation.” Theodora recited the same line she had repeated over and over again for the last few days.
“I second,” Vaclav said.
“Motion denied,” Jens said, “An independent Silesia will only be reconquered by either Germany or Hungary within days of its creation. In short, it would be the most destructive and destabilizing solution of anything we proposed here.”
“But the people of Silesia deserve a chance to choose their own path.”
“Like you denied the people of the west?” Ferdinando said. “The people of the southern provinces? The colonies? The overseas territories?”
“That is different—”
“It is no different from what is happening right now,” Oleg said, “You have spent centuries conquering and expanding throughout Europe, and now you have the nerve to say all people deserve a chance at self-determination? A chance you denied so many?”
“What about you, then?” Theodora jabbed a finger at Oleg. “Your government has occupied Ukraine for the last seven years!”
“Yes, so what of it?”
“Theodora.” Kira lightly tugged on Theodora’s sleeve. “We shouldn’t go down this path.”
“Kira, not now.” Theodora looked at the other delegates. “I say this because the current Roman government is not the same one from all those centuries ago. It isn’t even the same one that was in power last year, during the Black Rebellion. We wrote a new constitution and established new political institutions solely so we don’t repeat the mistakes that led to the Time of Troubles. Now we are trying to make amends for all of our past transgressions. This is not hypocrisy. We support the Silesian cause for self-determination because we recognize, from first-hand experience, that the old way of doing things no longer works. Yet many here don’t realize it.”
She was careful not to say “you all,” as that would implicate Britain as well. “You pass around Silesia like it’s a chess piece, or a bunch of lines on a map to be redrawn with little concern for whoever is living there. We’ve spent too long thinking the same thing, not realizing that at the end of it all, everybody who lives in the Empire is Roman and should be treated fairly. You don’t see the Silesians as equals. I don’t think you even see them at all.”
She pointed at Gyula. “You just want the land and the natural resources.” She pointed at Jens. “Same goes with you. For all your talk about historical and cultural ties, that’s all it boils down to. I formally protest against the restrictive binary nature of this conference. Why is it that we can only support one side or the other? Who decided on such a format to begin with? Oh wait.” Another finger jabbed at Jens. “You did. You’re repeating the same mistakes the old Empire did. You ignore what the people of Silesia really want and instead force your own rule on top of them.”
She looked back at Gyula. “You too. You talk all you want about Hungarian history, but Silesian history shows a long history of the people asserting their independence from Hungary, Bavaria, Germany, and Poland, no matter if they and their land have been partitioned. In the words of King Fryderyk III, who declared Silesia independent of Polish rule in 1778: ‘We are a resilient people, proud of our freedom. Our larger neighbors may split our land and our people, but they will never take our freedom. We will endure and fight on until the day comes when the Silesian eagle flies over all Silesia.’” Vaclav looked shocked that someone actually quoted the words of one of his ancestors. “Yes, I actually took the time to read up on Silesian history, which is more than I can say for Ambassador Willem and Count Frigyes here.”
“You are out of line,” Jens said.
“It doesn’t matter anyways,” Janislaw said, “Because the Miedzymorze Commonwealth and United Provinces of Germany both support the German position.”
“I must say, though, it is strange that Germany’s own decision is counted in a conference that directly involves Germany,” Edgar said, “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“It is customary for all nations represented in a diplomatic conference to get a say, even if they are the subject. We even give Hungary a say out of respect for the tradition. That puts the tally at 4 for Germany and 3 for Hungary.”
“Choose, Roman,” Jens said, “We don’t have all day. Germany or Hungary?”
Theodora sighed and shook her head. This was exactly the scenario they had spent hours yesterday evening trying to prevent. She had hoped some of the other delegates would come to their senses. Maybe Britain could second instead of supporting Germany, but she was wrong. President Papoulas and Edgar Kilikos no doubt believed an independent Silesia would still provoke the Germans into starting a war. Despite Donatello’s hard work, nobody else was willing to budge. Not even the Emperor’s presence changed anything. Perhaps she could just abstain and keep the tally at 4 to 3. If Russia voted for Hungary, the conference would deadlock and they would need to spend another week negotiating. But Russia would still vote for Germany in that case. If the Empire declared for Hungary, that would create a tie, which Russia would then break…in favor of Germany again. Oleg Turov probably delayed Russia’s vote solely so he could go after the Empire and vote exactly the opposite of what the Empire wanted. But no matter what the Empire decided on, Germany was going to win. Vote for Germany? 5 to 4 for Germany. Vote for Hungary? Russian tiebreaker in favor of Germany. Abstain or continue pushing for independence? 5 to 3 for Germany.
“In the absence of more preferable options, the Empire reluctantly supports the Hungarian position, with significant protest.” It was the failsafe she, Donatello, and Alvértos had decided on last night, if the independence plan failed. There was no way they would side with fascists.
Oleg smiled, believing he had won. “The Republic of Russia votes in favor of the German position.”
It’s just as I thought.
“It is settled, then,” Jens said, “The German position has been adopted. It is now this conference’s final motion that the entire region of Silesia be transferred from the Kingdom of Hungary to the United Provinces of Germany at once. Hungary is now obligated to withdraw all troops from Silesia, hand over all local government functions to their German equivalents, and recognize German control by May 6, or there will be war. Good work, everybody. This conference is now concluded.”
Everybody filed out of the conference room. Theodora was still slightly fuming as she entered the hallway and turned towards the stairs, where she would talk to Donatello and Alvértos about the Empire’s utter failure today.
“Ah, Sebastokrator Doukas.”
Theodora turned around, and her stomach sank when she saw the last person she wanted to see today. Giuseppe Lombardi was quickly approaching her, a smile on his face. A camera crew, not affiliated with him but still wanting the scoop in the making, followed close behind.
“Consul Lombardi.” Theodora composed herself. At least Donatello wasn’t here right now. Who knew what kind of frenzy he would fly into? It would be a PR disaster, she feared. But then again, she could turn this one around. Those photographers might come in handy to reset the narrative after her outburst in there. That improvised speech at the end helped, but she needed more. She held out her hand. “Hello.”
A show of mercy from the Roman sebastokrator, a Doukai at that, towards a breakaway’s leader, the son of rebel scum, at that. It may be a show of weakness on the Empire’s part, but my body language will reframe it as a show of strength. I’m the one extending a hand to Giuseppe Lombardi, showing that I welcome his contribution to this conference despite Italy’s current status. If he shakes, he acknowledges the Empire’s mercy and our restored power. If he doesn’t, the unprofessionalism will damage his and Italy’s reputation.
For a brief second, a look of hesitation flashed across Giuseppe’s face. Then his usual expression returned and he accepted Theodora’s handshake. It wasn’t without issue, though. As the cameras flashed and the reporters jotted down notes, Giuseppe jerked his hand in an attempt to pull Theodora closer to him and place his hand on top, with his grip tightening around her hand. But Theodora had expected something like that. Niketas had tried doing that a lot when they were kids. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he studied offensive forms and I the defensive ones. So no matter how much force Giuseppe applied, Theodora’s hand—her entire body, really—remained in place like a statue. A tense second passed. Realizing the cameras were close to seeing the distress on his face, Giuseppe relented and settled for a normal handshake, putting on another smile.
“I believe this is our first time meeting face to face,” Giuseppe said.
“It will not be our last, I hope,” Theodora said.
“I hope so too,” Giuseppe said, “You look as radiant as in your photographs.”
“Thank you,” Theodora said, “Though you look quite different from your own.”
“Ah, yes, that is an issue,” Giuseppe said, “My older portraits—both painted and photographed—had the tendency to…embellish my looks. Portrayed me in ways where I look taller, bulkier, younger. But I objected. My people deserve to know who I am really, not some ideal cooked up by my painter or photographer. You understand that, don’t you?”
The portraits changed to look plainer after the attempted assassination and the subsequent purge of the Squadristi. That checks out. “Yes, I agree. The real me is what matters.”
“Please, give us some privacy.” The reporters left, presumably to find some other dignatary to pester. Giuseppe turned back to Theodora. “Ah, that’s better. Now we talk without being overheard.”
I have Kira waiting around the corner, writing down everything we’re going to talk about here. She then saw what appeared to be the hem of a skirt just barely sticking out from a doorway several feet behind Giuseppe. Ah, he’s doing the same. It’s all a feint. “Then let’s get on with it.”
“I didn’t expect the Roman delegation to be led by the Sebastokrator herself,” Giuseppe said, “All of the other nations, including mine, sent ambassadors, but you brought yourself, your emperor, and the Ecumenical Patriarch.”
“His Majesty is here as a neutral observer, much like you and His Holiness are,” Theodora said, “And we have the right to pick whoever represents us, don’t we?”
“Surely you couldn’t have found someone better.” A jab at her closing speech? Theodora kept her face stoic and unchanging.
“I have the best diplomats in the Empire backing me up,” Theodora said, “You might be surprised at a few of their names.”
“I don’t like surprises,” Giuseppe said, “They usually try to get me killed.”
“Yes, fascists tend to do that.” Theodora decided to press the issue.
“They tried and failed. I have since dealt with them, like any others who hold Italy back.” Giuseppe waved his hand, as if to show he considered them merely a nuisance.
Not just fascists, I bet. The MSI has heard rumors within the Italian government that Giuseppe is going to go after Ugo Saletta soon.
“Yet Italy supported fascist Germany today. Why is that?”
“Like you no doubt have experienced, neither side is truly preferable over the other. Support Hungary, and they will continue their expansionism. Support Germany, and they will be emboldened to demand more in the next crisis. Either way, we are pushed onto the road to war. It is no longer a question of if, but when. Like any good leader, I want to keep my nation out of war as long as I can. After weighing all of the benefits and drawbacks, I decided to swallow my pride and support Germany. German expansionism might happen in the future as a result—” There was a strange rustling of fabric from behind both Giuseppe and Theodora. “—but we know full well Hungarian expansionism is happening right now and must be stopped. Given our geographic proximity, we would be within the line of fire much faster if it was Hungary and not Germany.”
“I just thought it was weird,” Theodora said, “Everybody had assumed you and the Burgundians were on the same page.”
“Pope Rhaban might think so, but he forgets that Italy is its own country, capable of its own decisions independent of him.” That seemed to rile up Giuseppe a little bit. “Just because he says something does not mean we will do it. He doesn’t understand that. I’m sure you do, though.”
That Italy is independent of the Empire? “As I’ve said in the conference, I do believe that people should be allowed to decide their own fates, not treated as pawns in a game.”
“Interesting,” Giuseppe said, “I didn’t think I’d hear that from a Roman.”
“We have changed much in the last year,” Theodora said, “The old ways no longer work. It’s time for the Empire to take a new path.”
“One that recognizes the new reality of the world?” The new reality that was the western provinces remaining independent.
“One that recognizes all people of the Empire are equally Romans,” Theodora said, “The Time of Troubles and the Black Rebellion happened because we forgot that.”
“But what is a Roman anyways?” Giuseppe said.
“A Roman is anybody who lives in the Empire, naturally,” Theodora said, “One who is part of the institutions and cultural heritage of a realm with unbroken continuity back to the days of Julius Caesar and the Republic.”
“Unbroken continuity, you say?” Giuseppe said. “Yet the Roman Senate stayed in Italy long after even the western empire fell in 476, disappearing into the vestiges of history. The Senate of Constantinople you are a part of is a copy that was established by the eastern empire.”
“And yet the eastern empire was every bit as Roman as the western empire, so the eastern Senate is as Roman as the western one.”
“The eastern empire calls itself the Roman Empire, and yet no longer holds the city of Rome. We do, though, so arguably we of the Roman Republic have more claim to the Roman legacy.”
“If you want to go that route, only the people living in the actual city of Rome have any claim to the Roman legacy, not the rest of Italy and probably not you,” Theodora said, “You tie Rome to the land and the people living there, but it’s long since evolved past that. The Empire is still the Roman Empire regardless of holding Rome or not. For much of its early history between Diocletian and the medieval era, the Empire didn’t hold Rome, yet it was still Roman. Why? Because it’s an idea. That’s what Romanitas is. If you live in the Empire, you are Roman, in all of your similarities and differences too. That’s how we lasted this long, despite constant civil wars, invasions, religious crises, and cult attacks. The dream of Rome never dies, for it is no longer tied to any land.”
“I see,” Giuseppe said, “And yet it doesn’t address that we in Italy do consider ourselves Romans as well as Italians, solely because we are custodians of the city of Rome.”
“If you consider yourselves Romans, we welcome it,” Theodora said, “Because we are also Romans. Thus, we are one people. Yet you also consider yourselves Italians, and that is fine. The Empire is made up of Hellenes, Thracians, Anatolians, Macedonians, Romaniote Slavs, Turks, Arabs, Jews, Armenians, and many other peoples. All are Romans. Italians would be no different. We’d welcome you all the same, if you’d have us.”
Giuseppe hesitated again, not sure how to react. He had probably been expecting a different response from her. Something along the lines of “We are going to reconquer the city of Rome so we have an undisputed claim to Rome’s legacy!” But she wasn’t going down that path. That way only led to further ruin. If they were to bring Italy back into the fold, they would have to do it peacefully.
“My answer depends on the answer of the people,” Giuseppe said, “As you’ve said, it should be the people’s right to choose who they are ruled by.”
“Of course. I’ll be awaiting their decision.”
“Once they have, I’m sure we’ll meet again. But in a better room than this hallway, I hope.”
“Me too.”
Artemisia walked up to Giuseppe. “Your motorcade is waiting. We’ve booked a table at the hotel restaurant in half an hour.”
At the same time, Kira walked up to Theodora. “Theodora, His Majesty’s waiting.”
“Ah, it looks like our time’s up,” Giuseppe said, “It was nice talking to you, Sebastokrator.”
They shook hands again. This time, neither person tried to assert dominance over the other.
“Likewise, Consul,” Theodora said, “I take it this is your secretary?”
“In a way, yes,” Giuseppe said, “This is Artemisia Favero.”
“April,” Artemisia corrected.
“Right, right. That is what she prefers.”
Favero… It took her a little bit, but she now recognized Artemisia’s face from all of the photos Aggelike and her spy ring had sent to the MSI. This was Donatello’s daughter, the one that had caused him much anguish over the last few months. To meet her in person, though…something felt off about her. Her eyes bore into Theodora’s soul, as if peering into every little thought and action she took and then waiting for a movement. It was almost like how… No, that can’t be. She shook Artemisia’s hand. “It is nice to meet you, Ms. Favero.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Madame Sebastakrator.”
“Please, ma’am is fine,” Theodora said.
Giuseppe turned to Kira next. “And who might you be? Her Excellency’s secretary, I assume?”
“Yes,” Kira said, “I am Kira.”
“Kira…”
“She’s really shy.” Theodora improvised on the spot. “She doesn’t like sharing her surname.”
“That’s fine.” Giuseppe smiled warmly. “My dear, it’s completely fine. I remember a time when I was like that.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lombardi,” Kira said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kira.” Artemisia held out a hand.
“Same.” Kira shook her hand. “It’s—”
At that moment, both women froze up, their eyes staring blankly ahead.
“Uh, Artemisia?” Giuseppe waved a hand in front of her face, but there was no reaction.
Oh, skata! Theodora cursed. It must have been Kira’s foresight kicking in at the worst possible time. Why now of all times to start working again? How was she going to explain it to Giuseppe? Her mind raced through the possible cover stories she could give. Then she remembered the same thing was happening to Artemisia. Sure, Kira is affected, but why her? Why would she… Theodora realized the truth of that earlier moment, when she felt Artemisia’s eyes on her. No. Oh no. No, no, no, no. Oh God. It all makes so much sense now. Everything fell into place with Aggelike’s botched assassination attempt. The one that had a 100% chance of success thanks to Kira’s foresight but still failed anyways due to an unforeseen variable. They had deduced there could have been another foreseer at the event who changed causality in another direction, but they didn’t know how or who. Now she had figured it out. Because Artemisia was front and center during the event too.
This is Lombardi’s foreseer.
“Are you okay?” Giuseppe continued. “Hello?”
Judging from his reaction, though, it seems he’s unaware of her power, unlike me. Wait, unlike me? I have to put on an appearance, pretend it’s the same with me. Otherwise he’ll accuse me of some assassination plot or whatever. She waved a hand in front of Kira. “Hello? Kira, you okay?” She lightly shook Kira’s shoulders. “Come on, speak to me, Kira!”
Giuseppe looked at Theodora. “Wait, you don’t know either?”
“How would I know?” Theodora was speaking half truthfully, because she didn’t know what in Kira’s ability was causing this. “This is strange.”
It felt like an eternity, but only three seconds had passed since Kira and Artemisia had shook hands. Nothing was changing.
“What’s going on here?” Theodora said.
---
It was like cold electricity running through her veins and over and under her skin. As she comprehended it, it became a loud buzzing which then solidified into fuzzy images around her. The hallway was gone, the carpeted floor was gone, the air was gone, the light was gone, and yet she still saw everything. Her head throbbed behind her eyes. Her lungs cried out to cough, but she couldn’t. Her stomach screamed out to retch, but she couldn’t. She was falling, or maybe it was her very essence feeling as if it had been ripped from her body and expanded outward, like a gas filling an empty container. Was she Kira? Was she Artemisia? What did it matter at this point?
W-What’s going on?!
Oh no, this is what’s happening?
She didn’t expect this to happen. Nobody would have thought there would be another…hold on, another what? Images began to form in the formless swirl of causality threads. No, they weren’t exactly threads. She saw every possible permutation of herself walking through the hallway several seconds from now, each new interaction creating a new branch. The same was true of Giuseppe and Theodora, who became ethereal branches of a great tree, its trunk and roots stretching through the entire hallway and beyond. She saw Theodora shooting Giuseppe right there, another where Giuseppe shot Theodora instead. One where one’s bodyguards arrested the other. One where they both lay on the floor, their blood staining the carpet, and Theodora complaining about the cleanup fee as she bled out.
Then, suddenly, they were thrown out of the building, high in the sky over Dresden. Now the permutations grew in complexity and number. The sky was simultaneously clear, partly cloud, thundering and raining, and full of bombers, their own identifiers and insignias fluctuating between over a dozen different nations. Explosions rippled down below, all overlapping each other so they blanketed every block and every street simultaneously. The city changed too, its architeture and street plan shifting to become an entirely new city every second. Constantinople, Rome, Pozsony, Frankfurt, London, Kyiv, Cologne, Paris—all burned. The conflagration engulfed all of the branches in spite of their permutations and divergences, no matter where they looked.
One of the branches, though, came loose from the tapestry, winding its way outside of time, and then she realized there was another tapestry, another tree out there, one of many in an infinite forest. But this new tree was different. It seemed to be two trees wound tightly around each other, almost like a double helix—wait, how did she know what that was? And as she looked closer and closer, she began making out images and faces and voices.
“Have you not seen a single Israel Schmidt movie—oh, right. Sorry.”
“If Alexandra needs more processing power, I’ve got it.”
Gas-powered engines proudly roared like lions, and in the blink of an eye, the entire horizon was covered in a line of steel which threw up immense clouds of dust behind them. The first rays of the sun peered over the horizon from behind the Caspian Sea, gleaming off the steel with a brilliant determination matching that of their crews.
“Damnit! Hold the line, soldiers of God! Don’t let those heretics through, or I’ll kill you myself!”
“Sound off for equipment check.” “Liberator 1 ready.” “Liberator 2 ready.” “Liberator 3 ready.”
The muzzle flash from his assault rifle lit up the still darkened warehouses and factories. Blood splattered against faded concrete and rusty iron. He stepped over bodies clad in tactical black and slipped into the alleys, where he took cover behind a stack of oil drums and reloaded.
“At the very least, I have full faith in them. After all, they survived April 2. I’d be making a tactical mistake if I didn’t deploy them.”
“For Romanitas!” “For Wilhelmina!” “For Normandy!”
The night was still dark. The only noises he heard were of his men rustling through the grass and bushes as they closed in. His infrared goggles made out the outlines of the rebels a couple hundred feet away moving into a flanking position on the other side of the main entrance.
“We are in position. Awaiting transmission of the Panopticon configuration.”
“Kathartes 13-16, target Hellhounds 2, 6, and 7. Hellhounds 12, 19, 25, destroy the targets.”
Morning broke over a certain neighborhood of Isfahan. The quiet and empty streets were unblemished with bomb craters or bullet holes, almost as if there was never a war in Isfahan. The trees swayed in a gentle morning breeze. A few birds had begun to sing just as the last of the lampposts turned off.
“The day will come when Persia, the last bastion of freedom in a sea of totalitarianism, marches into the ruins of Constantinople and brings down the evil Reich for good! Pâyande Bâdâ Irân!”
“One scone please!”
Then something pulled her back into the forest, away from the strange double helix tree. Confused, she looked around, but all she saw were more and more trees, their infinite branches stretching forward into infinity. And then she saw it not in the trees but in the space in between. There was something there. Something slithering, coiling, watching her, with eyes larger than all of the human species combined. Its eyes bore into her, and the threads of causality began to scream and twist and outright burn and blacken. Contradictions and paradoxes manifested themselves in physical form, all of the ugliness of improbability and the nonexistence of unreality made real. There was no describing It. It defied all attempt at classification, at definition, at conceptualization. She didn’t know what It was. On the other hand, she had an idea. Was this what the Cult was aiming for, the entire time? The Cult? What was that?
The worst thing was? It wasn’t just looking at her. It was looking at the thread that led to and from the double helix tree to her own. It was looking at her tree, and all of the threads of causality contained within the people that lived in her own world. And as It did so, she felt a horrible sense of dread and foreboding, but also familiarity. As if she knew this would happen. As if a part of her deep down knew this was the plan all along. The plan?
…Chernobog?
Without warning, she was slammed back into her body, her essence that had spread out to fill the forest pushed back into the tiny vessel that was Kira. She blinked, finding herself back in that hallway in that hotel in Dresden, shaking Artemisia’s hand. She was in a cold sweat now, panting heavily and feeling completely exhausted. It had felt like an eternity, but only a couple seconds had passed in reality. But what was reality anyways? Her eyes focused, and she realized Artemisia was in a similar situation.
“Kira?” Theodora said.
“Yes?” Kira replied.
“Oh good, you’re okay,” Theodora said.
“Artemisia?” Giuseppe said.
“I’m fine,” Artemisia said.
“What was that?”
“I think it was…static electricity.” Artemisia said. “Shuffling your feet over this fluffy carpet really causes it to build up.”
“Yes, I think that’s it.” Kira went along with it. “I’ve never felt it this strong before, though.”
“Well, at least it’s over,” Theodora said, “I do apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Not at all,” Giuseppe said, “If anything, it’ll be a fun story to share at dinnertime, years from now.”
Kira looked away in what would outwardly appear as embarrassment, but she was still playing along with the charade. She knew exactly what had happened.
“Alright, then, I suppose we’ve been delayed enough,” Giuseppe said, “I’ll be seeing you around, Sebastokrator Doukas.”
“And I’ll be seeing you, Consul Lombardi.”
“Ciao.”
“Antío.”
They parted ways. As soon as she was sure Giuseppe was out of earshot, in as many permutations of causality as she could, she spoke up. “Theodora.”
Theodora immediately deduced what Kira wanted to talk about. They took a turn into one of the side office rooms the MSI had previously vetted and cleared of any bugs. Theodora locked the door and turned to Kira. “What was that back there?”
“It was…a lot.”
“A lot?”
“As in we would be really late to meeting the Emperor and Donatello if I were to explain everything I saw there. So I’m going to start with what you will find immediately useful.”
“And what’s that?”
Kira looked her dead in the eyes. “Artemisia Favero is the foreseer we’ve been looking for.”
Theodora nodded. “I’ve reached the same conclusion.”
Constantinople - May 7
“Senators, Representatives, welcome!”
It was now May 7, but Theodora still felt like it was March 8. She hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in two months now. All of Kira’s findings were still being processed, on top of everything else that was happening in the country and elsewhere. At least Kira could use her ability again now. While she sorted that mess out, Theodora had also finished finalizing the details of the Foederati Plan with Alvértos and Donatello, and now they were rolling it out. Embassies, officially known as “special diplomatic buildings,” would now be established in the breakway territories. They would be the first step in building a new “Foederati” coalition. It would be an economic and military partnership at first. Full reintegration into the Empire would come at a later time. As expected, Free Britain was the most receptive of the western breakaways to the Foederati Plan. President Papoulas had even visited Constantinople last month to sign the treaty, and in return, Theodora had visited London to address the Parliament. That was a hectic day, trying to shout over dozens of aging rebels who wanted nothing to do but hold back progress. Unlike in Italy, many Vretanói still wouldn’t mind rejoining the Empire as long as nothing fundamentally changed on the local level and they could continue their lives as usual. It was the old rebel leadership that was still locked in their old Time of Troubles mentality.
Unfortunately, not every breakaway was as willing as Britain. The government of Belgica answered the Empire’s Foederati Plan by instead expelling pro-Roman administrators and bureaucrats, just as had been done in Jolof and the Lazarines. While she could handle the issue on the diplomatic side quite easily, the press made everything more annoying. She had to issue quite a few apologies to various breakaway “special diplomatic representatives” who feared they would be next in the line of publishing fire.
Then there was the elephant in the room, Silesia. Hungary left the conference still adamant on keeping Silesia. But as the weeks passed, nobody came to Hungary’s aid, despite Pozsony’s desperate pleas for support. The Scandinavian government offered its “moral support” to Hungary but nothing else. Pope Rhaban of Burgundy was too wrapped up in his increasingly public spat with Giuseppe Lombardi to worry about Hungary. The Empire, too, had also pivoted to focusing on the breakaway provinces and had little time to spare for Hungary. As the deadline approached and the stalemate continued, tensions rose. Germany and Poland both mobilized their troops and deployed them to the Hungarian border. There were rumors Russia had done the same.
Finally, on May 5, with only 12 hours before the deadline, Hungary relented. At noon, all Hungarian troops and government officials left Silesia, including Hungarian-dominated Upper Silesia. At 2, Prince Vaclav seized on the opportunity to declare Silesia an independent nation again. Although his declaration was met with an outpouring of support among the common Silesian people, it lacked military strength. At 3 PM, the German State Army, aided by Polish tanks, crossed the border. By 4 PM they had occupied Breslau and Ratibor, effortlessly sweeping aside Vaclav’s movement like it was dust under a broom. There were sporadic attempts at resistance in a few towns, but the Germans easily crushed them. At 5 PM, the German Statthalter declared the annexation of the newly established Province of Silesia complete. Theodora didn’t even have enough time to put the Empire’s support behind Vaclav’s movement before it was gone. Not that it would have changed anything.
The news was definitely disheartening. Theodora nad the team had put in weeks of effort during and after the conference, but it amounted to nothing. The fascists had won out. Although the immediate threat of Hungarian expansionism was now reduced, the Baltic Axis, by comparison, would be emboldened to demand more land in the future. She would have to watch both countries closely from now on. It wasn’t so long ago that they were enemies, but now they were cooperating even closer than before. Just hours earlier today, so recent that the Senate’s maps had to be hastily painted over, Germany had even ceded the Polish-majority region of Posen, or Poznan in Polish, back to Miedzymorze. That would explain why the Commonwealth had little qualms with letting Germany have Silesia—they had already known they would get Poznan back, so it was only fair their new fascist ally would get Silesia. Both countries benefited as a result. Germany gave up a rural region full of Poles in exchange for an industrialized and resource-rich region which had a substantial German population, while the Polish government satisfied its nationalist ambitions in bringing a Polish region back into the fold. Now each country would have fewer grievances against the other, and they could turn their attention outward.
Theodora let everybody else speak first. She was too tired to give a long-winded speech again. Donatello was in the same boat. Every time she looked over at his seat, he was chugging a cup of coffee in an attempt to stay awake. The Thaddai delegation was doing much better, but she knew that Timon would rather focus on Aotearoan and Pacific matters than European ones. He seemed a little more interested in the Chinese conquest of the rump Manchu state, though he was probably more interested in where Zhu Wei would look next than in the combat data the Empire had gathered.
Donatello next spoke up, talking about the failure of the Empire at Dresden, then the successful first steps of the Foederati Plan, calling for patience and understanding. After all, nobody would have expected Britain to reconcile with the Empire even months ago. But they did, and despite Belgica’s subsequent actions, it was a good sign. The Empire could yet be restored with this new way. Once he was done, he slumped back into his chair and struggled to stay awake.
Timon took his turn next. Like Donatello, he shared his thoughts on the Foederati Plan and asked a pressing question. While the recent breakaways from last year would likely rejoin without incident, and the western provinces might come back after a period of reconciliation, what about the further imperial overseas regions and colonies? Would Africa and Southeast Asia come back to the fold? It was hard to say, even with the Foederati Plan. And what beneft would these regions get from the Foederati Plan? Wouldn’t they just get dragged into the Empire’s wars in Europe?
That question gave Donatello some more energy to sit straight up and answer Timon by explaining the Foederati Plan in better detail. Yes, the dominions and others in the Foederati coalition would contribute troops to the Empire’s wars, but the Empire would also do the same for them, just as Theodora had promised Edgar at the conference. The Foederati was a partnership of equals now, of one people working together.
Once Donatello sat back down, Theodora decided it was her turn. She stood up.
“We are entering a new age, everybody. One in which the old ways of doing things no longer works. As we have shown at the conference, we’ve adopted a new way. The Foederati Plan, as Minister Favero says, is a coalition of equals, and it is not an exclusive partnership. We gain access to the other members’ markets, and they gain access to ours. They contribute their troops, and we contribute ours. They help us in our wars, and we help with theirs. This is not an old system of vassals around the imperial core. It is the realization that despite the borders on the map, we are all still one people with a common cause. We will lift each other up and allow everybody to be the best they can be, and we will protect each other from those who would harm us. They may choose to be dominions or provinces…” She left out the word ‘independent,’ for fear of undermining the reintegration efforts in the west. “They may choose to directly ally with other dominions or even independent nations. The Foederati Plan accommodates for it without forcing them to choose between those partnerships or that with the Empire. Because we recognize that we are stronger together than separate. We can achieve more together. We can build a lasting peace, both within the coalition and outside of it. The Empire is committed to the Foederati Plan and to all those who accept it. Together, we can make Alithiní Anástasi a reality.”
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((After over a week, here's the infamous post that caused so much discussion and rewriting.))
((Edit: Fixed Britain's reasoning, updated Artemisia's name usage, and fixed the Slav mention.))
