SPD (5): A Loan from the Hanoverians
The ten-hour journey ahead of the election was far from comfortable, but I made it safely to Gmunden in Austria. At the border crossing, the customs officer had given my name a strange look, but there were no issues. Nobility was a thing of the past now, after all—I was officially just an ordinary German citizen.
"Let me see…."
I checked the map. Cumberland Castle, owned by the Hanover family, wasn't far from Gmunden. About twenty-five minutes on foot, following the path through the woods.
It started out manageable, but my damn limp turned it into agony before long.
Ernst August, Duke of Brunswick and head of the Hanover house—my sister Viktoria Luise's husband. Word was she'd lost her fortune like me, but with his help, they'd moved into the Hanover family castle. Considering the historic bad blood between Prussia and Hanover, it was downright ironic. And now here I was, a Prussian prince, come to borrow money from the head of Hanover.
The real Joachim might have called it humiliating, but I felt nothing.
"There it is."
The uphill climb was wearing me down, my leg making every breath a labor, when I spotted Ernst standing with his hands behind his back in front of the castle. Beside him, Viktoria Luise tilted her head with a displeased frown.
"…I figured you'd come by car."
"If I had one."
Ernst looked mildly surprised, his gaze lingering awkwardly. Viktoria, arms still crossed, wore an expression that screamed, Then why bother coming?
"My long-lost little sister doesn't seem thrilled to see me."
"Why would I be happy to see you? That dopey face of yours hasn't changed."
Not quite the princess reaction I'd imagined. Not pure rage or contempt, either. If anything—
"If your brother hasn't written in ages and then sends a letter saying 'lend me money,' how do you think a sister would react? You'd do the same."
It felt like a real sibling response. Royal upbringing or not, growing up bickering with your baby brother was universal, transcending rank and nationality.
I gave an awkward smile. "Do I really come off that desperate? I've been through a lot lately…."
"I know. What you've been up to. Come inside first. We can talk there."
I nodded slightly.
The reception room in Cumberland Castle had been built in 1882, but its classical interior felt intriguingly timeless.
"Where's Karl Franz?" Viktoria asked.
I shrugged. "Left him with the nanny."
"The nanny? What about the Anhalt woman?"
She meant my ex-wife, Marie Auguste. Ernst glanced at her in confusion, and I forced an awkward smile. "You didn't know? We're divorced. Though Father never acknowledged it…."
Viktoria's eyes widened in shock. "Divorced? She ran off again?"
"Yeah…."
She didn't seem entirely surprised. "I told you, didn't I? There's something off about her. Who abandons a husband who went to war?"
Viktoria crossed her arms tighter and turned to Ernst. He gave an uneasy chuckle, glancing at me, then tried changing the subject. "I, uh, heard you've joined the Social Democratic Party. Is that true?"
"Yeah, brother-in-law. What's the story? What are you even doing?"
I could only let out a hollow laugh. They didn't read my letters properly.
"It's true. I wrote about it. I'm here for help with election funds."
"…What?"
Viktoria clutched her forehead, eyes squeezed shut. Wilhelm II would have bellowed over the phone; August Wilhelm would have swung a fist. This was downright mild.
"A Social Democratic prince coming to borrow money from us… Quite the historic day."
Ernst said it like a joke, but Viktoria and I stared back coldly. He clammed up quick—mostly because she was glaring daggers at him.
After some thought, she turned to me. "Fine. No more questions. You've always had something up your sleeve. That leg of yours proves it."
Her expression mixed pity and concern. The brother she'd always scrapped with had botched his marriage, gotten shot in the war, and now dealt with a wife who'd abandoned their son. Tough words aside, family was family.
She crossed her arms again. "So? How much do you need? Don't parties cover that stuff?"
"They cover basics. But I have personal plans. And right now, I'm flat broke."
She tilted her head. "Did she take it all?"
Her gaze sharpened, as if asking, You didn't let yourself get played like that, did you?
I shook my head. "Being broke was the reason for the divorce. She couldn't take what wasn't there."
"…That bitch."
Her language was rough—pure Hohenzollern foster daughter.
She pondered, then looked at Ernst. "What do you think? You're the head of the house, so whatever you say. But I'm asking: can you lend my idiot brother-in-law some money?"
With her expression softening, Ernst hesitated. I was a prince, sure, but as Duke of Brunswick and Hanover patriarch, lending to a Prussian socialist risked backlash from his entire house.
Still, seeing my resolute face and Viktoria's uncharacteristically humble plea, he nodded decisively. "We'll lend it. But treat it as an investment. Pay it back someday—not necessarily in cash."
I gave a faint smile. "I understand."
This was a plea from the Duke of Brunswick and Hanover head. Not just money—a political debt. From a Prussian prince to Hanover's leader, no less.
He stood. "Maintaining and repairing this castle costs a fortune."
He led me across the hall to a room. "Wait here."
I stood by the door. He returned with a paper envelope. "Fifty thousand marks."
I was speechless.
"Enough?" Viktoria asked confidently, beaming with pride in her husband.
"…More than enough. Thank you. I'll never forget this."
I gripped Ernst's hand firmly. "Never."
He just nodded.
"You know how the election works?"
Otto Wels asked me.
"You mean going to East Prussia?"
"…You have no idea."
He stared at me like I'd nearly caused a disaster. "It's not about your personal popularity getting you a seat."
"Then what?"
"People have to vote SPD."
He tapped the table with a finger. "It's not a vote for individuals. It's for the party."
"The party?"
"You're less a candidate and more… a face. The face of our party."
I tilted my head, and he sighed deeply. "Under the Empire, as you know, winning the district got you the seat."
He shifted in his chair, gesturing emphatically. "But now it's different. People vote for parties, not candidates."
I blinked. Proportional representation for all seats? As a former Korean, it wasn't intuitive—especially election systems, which even history buffs like me barely grasped.
"So where do I rank on the list?"
"You're the hottest topic right now, so probably one or two. East Prussia isn't SPD territory."
As he said, East Prussia was full of conservative nobles and officers—not prime SPD ground.
Suddenly, an idea hit me. "Can we still adjust it?"
He nodded warily. Without hesitation, I said, "What if we push me down the list?"
"…I'm not even surprised anymore. Why?"
"Wouldn't that draw more votes?"
Wels smirked. "Become the flag on the hill?"
I nodded. He chuckled, the laugh growing until he was roaring, as if amazed at the idea. His booming laughter filled the room, and I couldn't help but join in.
Finally, he raised both hands in surrender. "Fine. Let's do it. Shake up the election, Your Highness."
I nodded quietly. Four months until the East Prussia election.