Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Family Crisis
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Spring had passed before I knew it, and summer had arrived.
The Crown Prince and the princes had left for the Prinzenhaus, the royal villa in Schleswig-Holstein, for their studies. Only Wilhelm II and his wife, along with young Joachim and Viktoria Luise who were still too little to leave their parents' side, remained at the New Palace in Potsdam.
Meanwhile, France was still burning hot from my little fire-starting prank.
Émile Loubet had taken up the citizens' demands and pushed forward with the retrial of the Dreyfus Affair.
To be fair, in the current chaos, there really wasn't any other answer.
But President Loubet turned out to be far more radical than I'd expected.
Whether he saw the Dreyfus retrial as a chance to sweep away the French Catholic forces—which were practically far-right in this era—or not, he was shoving through the separation of church and state policy four years ahead of the original history.
A bold move, turning crisis into opportunity to push even further ahead.
But speed isn't always the answer.
Loubet's hasty and extreme actions only united the French Catholics and conservatives, and the Third Republic was suffering major political growing pains as a result.
Of course, Loubet was a capable politician in his own right, so he'd sort it out eventually. But still.
In my opinion, it wouldn't wrap up in two or three years at least.
That said, with Loubet aggressively pushing Dreyfus's retrial, the captain's innocence seemed on track to be recognized much sooner.
To the point where he personally sent me a thank-you letter.
It wasn't for that reason that I'd gotten involved, but it left me with a strangely bittersweet feeling.
But at the same time, guilt crept in.
Sadly for Captain Dreyfus, I'd basically used him to plunge his homeland into chaos.
"Come to think of it, Dreyfus even fought in World War I."
Even after all that.
If it were me, I'd have been so disgusted with my country that I'd emigrate or something. What a remarkable man.
"Sigh... This is why I hate war."
I'm not doing this because I enjoy it.
War leaves nothing but pain and ashes in the end.
But World War I is an unavoidable war as long as the great powers want to remain great powers.
That's why I had to make the German Empire win, no matter what it took.
The moment Germany lost, Wilhelm II and his family would meet their doom.
Wilhelm II fled to the Netherlands in exile, and the Crown Prince and princes joined far-right groups like the Steel Helmets to push for monarchist restoration, only to be abandoned by Hitler in the Night of the Long Knives and fade into obscurity.
Ah, except for Prince August Wilhelm.
The only ardent Nazi among Wilhelm II's kids—not only doesn't deserve a shield, he deserves to be shielded from.
If he tries that in this world, too...
'And then there's Joachim—he commits suicide.'
After the fall of the German Empire, Prince Joachim wanders, unable to adapt to the changed reality, and ultimately takes his own life.
And the Augusta Empress, shocked by her son's suicide, wastes away and passes.
"I really don't want to see that happen."
Wilhelm II's family had become like my own family.
I'd meant to keep my distance at first, but I'm human too—feelings grow inevitably.
That's why I wanted to prevent my precious people from meeting the same unhappy end as in the original history, as much as possible.
One more reason added to why I absolutely had to save the German Empire.
Meanwhile, the Dreadnought project—Furchtlos ("Fearless") in German—was progressing splendidly.
Though I heard they were still debating the ship's name.
Some wanted to just go with Furchtlos, but German naval tradition favored place names or famous figures, so that idea was lightly dismissed.
The longer it went on, the greater the expectations building for the Dreadnought in the German Navy.
To the point where these arrogant Germans weren't even hesitating to import tech from abroad.
The other great powers, led by Britain, were reacting with something close to "What the hell did they eat wrong?"
Good for me and the German Empire. Still, a bit of unease lingered.
'It won't go wrong, will it?'
Of course, the Dreadnought's performance was proven in original history, but with human hands involved, who knows—maybe they'd build some weird ship in the exact opposite direction of the design intent.
Please don't screw it up. Please.
While I was worrying about that, something intriguing happened last month.
Wireless communication.
A technology of infinite value that I absolutely had to secure.
It had high utility for military use too, but what caught my eye was radio.
Radio was the one and only mass media until TV came along.
If I could claim it first, I could mold public opinion and the press to my liking. A truly tempting prospect.
"Come to think of it, Reginald Fessenden was the first to succeed in wireless voice transmission via radio waves this year, I think."
I didn't remember the exact date, but probably December.
And Fessenden's first radio broadcast was in 1906.
But with more money, maybe I could pull that forward.
Not that I had that kind of cash in my pocket.
Damn Bill wasn't giving me any allowance.
'Though I don't really need it.'
Think about where I am right now.
I'm probably living more luxuriously than most European upper class.
But that didn't mean I didn't need personal funds.
Life is unpredictable—having a fat wallet for emergencies brings peace of mind.
Still, I couldn't exactly run a business with this kid's body.
And that's when this caught my eye.
Arthur Conan Doyle, who'd grown sick of Holmes and killed him off with Moriarty at Reichenbach Falls, only to cave to fans screaming "Why kill Sherlock Holmes? You asked for it?" and his mother's nagging, wrote this third full-length Holmes novel.
And it was currently serializing to great acclaim in Britain's monthly The Strand Magazine.
I'd been a college lit nerd in my past life, so I could handle English and subscribed to the original out of fandom. Then it hit me—why not write a serial novel for newspapers or magazines myself?
Especially since the German Empire at this time was famous in Europe for reading newspapers voraciously.
Berlin was even nicknamed Zeitungstadt, the "newspaper city."
German papers focused on political debates and editorials, but what really hooked people were the weekly chapter serial novels.
Of course, I had no serious intention of becoming a writer.
It started half for fun, half for pocket money.
But the response was better than expected.
Ah, can't resist God-sunshin.
Thanks to that, not only was I earning a tidy allowance, but fan letters were pouring in.
Saying Admiral Yi embodied the ideal Prussian soldier image?
Of course they'd say that—who else but warmongers steeped in militarism to the brain.
Recently, even overseas fan letters were arriving, which was getting a bit scary.
Berliner Morgenpost is a local Berlin paper. How the hell did they even see it?
Anyway, I was spending peaceful yet fulfilling days.
How nice it would be if these days lasted forever.
"Hans, big trouble!"
But this was the turbulent early 20th century.
"Grandma Victoria is critically ill!"
Wishing for quiet days was a luxury in this era.
Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa.
Britain's Princess Royal, the consort of Predecessor Friedrich III, and Wilhelm II's own mother.
I already knew she'd pass away a few months after Queen Victoria's funeral.
I just hadn't known it would be now.
"Hurry, children. It's a long way to Kronberg."
As servants bustled packing, the Augusta Empress urged me, Joachim, and Viktoria Luise with an anxious voice.
The Victoria Dowager Empress had built Schloss Friedrichshof—named after her husband—in Kronberg near Frankfurt after Wilhelm II's ascension, and had lived there ever since.
"Mother, is Father not coming?"
"Your father will come later, Joachim."
The Empress answered Joachim's question.
Wilhelm II was currently in Königsberg in East Prussia for work, not Potsdam or Berlin.
The distance meant even if he left now, he'd arrive after us.
The same went for the Crown Prince and princes up in Schleswig-Holstein at Germany's northern tip.
"Your Majesty, preparations are complete."
"Let's go, children. You too, Hans."
"Yes, Ma'am."
We boarded the imperial carriage with the Augusta Empress.
Of course, we wouldn't ride the carriage all the way—we'd take the train from Potsdam to Frankfurt, then switch to another carriage for Schloss Friedrichshof.
"Depart."
No sooner had the Empress spoken than the carriage sped toward the station.
Moments later.
Police escorting us to control the crowds guided us into the station upon arrival.
A portly middle-aged man who looked like the stationmaster came huffing and puffing, bowing hastily to the Empress.
"Your Majesty, an honor to see you...!"
"No time for pleasantries—the situation is urgent. Is the special train to Frankfurt ready?"
"Y-yes, of course. This way."
Following the stationmaster's lead to the platform, a stately steam locomotive waited there, old-school and grand in keeping with the era.
"When can we depart?"
"In fifteen minutes."
"Understood. Come on, children."
Joachim, Luise, and I nodded and boarded immediately.
The train, prepared for royalty and nobility, was lavishly decorated.
I'd never even ridden first class in my past life, and here I was in this luxury in this one—what irony.
We settled into comfortable seats.
Looking out the window, palace servants were hurrying to load our luggage transferred from the carriage.
"An honor to serve you today, Your Majesty, Your Highness, Princess... and..."
The conductor, greeting the imperial family, spotted me and froze, words failing him.
Months after I arrived in Germany, and still people like this.
"Are you Hans Choi, by any chance?"
"Huh? Yes, why?"
"I'm a big fan of your serial Immortal Admiral Yi! Could I possibly get an autograph...?"
Didn't expect that angle.
I avoided the conductor's eager gaze and scribbled my signature on the novel he held out.
By the way, when did they even release a single volume?
Oh right, the newspaper sent a letter about it last time.
I skimmed it and tossed it, completely forgetting until now.
"Hans, you're a celebrity."
"Tell me about it."
Didn't expect to meet a fan here, though.
Hope when Admiral Yi dies in the finale, they don't demand I resurrect him like Sherlock Holmes.
"Have a wonderful day!"
The beaming conductor vanished with his signed book.
A wonderful day, huh.
The kids might manage, but the Empress didn't look so bright.
"Your Majesty, are you alright?"
"Hm? Thank you for worrying, Hans. My mind's just a bit tangled."
"Because of the Dowager Empress."
The Empress gave a wry smile at my words.
"You see right through me, don't you? Yes. I knew a day like today might come given her illness, but facing it is hard to accept."
The Victoria Dowager Empress had breast cancer.
Cancer is tough even in the 21st century—imagine the 20th.
"Were you close to the Dowager Empress?"
"It was delicate at first. My mother-in-law and husband's relationship wasn't great, so I kept my distance too."
And she'd done some nasty things back then.
Guilt still lingering, perhaps—the Empress bowed her head.
"But as His Majesty was often away on duties, leaving me lonely, she became my steadfast support. Before I knew it, we'd opened our hearts to each other."
"......"
"She's a pitiable woman, Hans. I wish His Majesty understood that..."
The Dowager Empress shook her head sadly.
It was summer.