Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Funeral
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A few days after the Victoria Dowager Empress entered eternal rest.
The funeral for the Victoria Dowager Empress began at Sanssouci Palace in Potsdam.
Across Germany, flags were flown at half-mast in a somber atmosphere of mourning. Numerous German royalty and nobility attended the funeral to pay their respects, including relatives of the imperial family and the monarchs of the princely states that made up the German Empire.
"We offer our deepest condolences on the passing of Her Majesty the Dowager Empress. Your Majesty."
Chancellor von Bülow and the cabinet ministers expressed their condolences to Wilhelm II, who was serving as chief mourner.
Military officials led by Alfred von Schlieffen and Alfred von Tirpitz, whom he hadn't seen in a while, followed suit. Members of the Reichstag and business magnates also visited the funeral hall to pay their respects.
But the procession of mourners was far from over.
Foreign royalty and delegations, including from the Dowager Empress's homeland of Britain, had yet to arrive.
Only after they all arrived would the final ceremony on August 13 commence.
On the 13th, the Dowager Empress's coffin would depart Sanssouci Palace and be carried to the mausoleum of Friedrich III, located in the Friedenskirche—the Prussian royal church in Potsdam. There, in the presence of family, she would be laid to rest alongside her husband and her young sons who had passed away prematurely, bringing the funeral to a close.
"Yawn... I wonder when this funeral will finally end."
"Just bear with it a little longer, even if it's tough, Princess Luise."
Viktoria Luise, bored with the funeral proceedings that had dragged on for days, pouted her lips, and I responded in a quiet voice from beside her.
Right now, I was standing with the imperial family, greeting the mourners.
Of course, hardly anyone spoke to us kids—me, Joachim, or Luise.
What was our role, exactly? Something like living decorations standing quietly beside the adults, I suppose.
"Aren't you bored, Hans?"
"Well... thinking of it as people-watching makes it a bit more bearable."
Besides, I'd never experienced a funeral of this scale even in my previous life.
Rustle, rustle
"Oh, looks like someone's arrived."
"We should stand up."
The moment we heard the murmurings from outside, Luise and I sprang to our feet from our chairs on reflex.
A commotion outside meant a high-ranking guest had arrived for the funeral.
We hurried to stand beside the other princes, ready to greet the mourner.
"His Highness Crown Prince Constantine of the Kingdom of Greece, Diadochos and Duke of Sparta."
With the chamberlain's announcement, a middle-aged gentleman with a finely groomed mustache entered the funeral hall, accompanied by a large entourage.
Crown Prince Constantine, eldest son of King George I of Greece and husband of Crown Princess Sophie.
A man who would later become far more famous as King Constantine I of Greece.
"You've come, Constantin."
"It's been a while, Your Majesty."
Wilhelm II shook hands with Crown Prince Constantine, welcoming his brother-in-law warmly.
"How is Sophie faring?"
"She's struggling but holding up. She's over there—go to her."
At Wilhelm II's words, Crown Prince Constantine nodded and went to his wife.
Crown Princess Sophie embraced her husband the moment she saw him, sharing her grief over losing her mother.
"Our condolences, Your Majesty."
As Crown Prince Constantine headed to the crown princess, his entourage simultaneously offered condolences to the Kaiser.
They appeared to be the delegation dispatched from the Kingdom of Greece to mourn the Victoria Dowager Empress.
After greeting Wilhelm, Crown Prince Wilhelm, and the other princes, they moved to offer condolences to their own crown princess, where Crown Prince Constantine stood.
"His Highness Şehzade Mehmed Selim, eldest son of His Majesty Abdul Hamid II, Padishah of the Ottoman Empire."
But soon after, a new foreign delegation entered the funeral hall, and the faces of the Greek delegation twisted in unison as if they'd rehearsed it.
They looked as if they'd run into their mortal enemy on a one-legged tightrope.
And it really was their sworn foe.
"Your Majesty, on behalf of my father, I offer our condolences to Your Majesty and the German Empire."
"Thank you, Prince. I will not forget the friendship shown by the Ottoman Empire."
After greeting Wilhelm II, the Ottoman delegation looked triumphantly at the Greek group.
Evidently, both Wilhelm II and the German Empire were more favorable toward the Ottoman Empire than the Kingdom of Greece.
This made the Greek delegation's faces even grimmer, and only after Crown Prince Constantine shot them a warning glance, mindful of their surroundings, did their expressions soften.
Don't do this at someone else's funeral, you lot.
"His Imperial and Royal Highness Archduke Franz Ferdinand Carl Ludwig Joseph Maria von Österreich-Este, heir presumptive to the Austro-Hungarian Empire."
Shortly after, following the Greeks and Ottomans, foreign delegations began arriving one after another, starting with Archduke Franz Ferdinand—the central figure of the Sarajevo incident. (I flinched involuntarily at that.)
"His Imperial Highness Grand Duke Mikhail Alexandrovich of the Russian Empire." (Younger brother of Nicholas II.)
"His Highness Ferdinand Maximilian Karl Leopold Maria of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Prince of the Principality of Bulgaria." (Ferdinand I.)
"His Highness Prince Hendrik of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, consort of Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands."
"His Royal Highness Prince Philippe, Count of Flanders, heir presumptive to the Belgian throne..."
Some names I'd heard before, others not.
Some of these people would become allies in World War I, others enemies.
Bitter as it was, that was the reality of the 20th century.
"...Your Majesty, 'he' has arrived."
"Mm."
Wilhelm II, who had been greeting delegations for a while, stiffened at the chamberlain's words.
Then he quietly spoke.
"So it has come."
No sooner had the Kaiser's words ended than the most prominent mourner among all the attendees revealed himself.
"His Majesty Edward VII, by the Grace of God, King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India."
The eldest son of Queen Victoria and younger brother of the Victoria Dowager Empress.
The arrival of Tum-Tum Edward.
"In the end, my sister has closed her eyes."
Buckingham Palace, London, seat of the British Empire.
Not long after the Victoria Dowager Empress's passing, King Edward VII received a telegram from Sir Frederick Ponsonby and murmured sadly as he read it.
He had anticipated it.
Edward VII had already sensed his sister Victoria Adelaide's impending death and had bid her a final farewell half a year prior.
But that didn't lessen the pain of losing family.
"Even heaven is too cruel. How long has it been since Mother passed, and now it takes my sister too."
"Cough... These are the times to remain steadfast, Your Majesty."
"I know, Robert."
Edward VII nodded at the words of Britain's 49th Prime Minister, the Marquess of Salisbury, Robert Gascoyne-Cecil.
Having spent a long tenure as Prince of Wales before ascending the throne, the shadow of his mother Queen Victoria still loomed large.
Britons still watched with concern, wondering if Edward VII would carry on the glory of the Victorian era or symbolize the twilight of the British Empire.
Thus, in times like these, Edward VII had to show composure.
"Mm. If possible, I'd like our entire family, myself included, to attend the funeral."
"Of course. However, the Prince of Wales..."
"Yes, George won't be able to make it. He's on the opposite side of the world right now."
Britain's heir apparent, the Prince of Wales who would become George V, was currently abroad on an imperial tour for the British Empire.
Naturally, attending the funeral was impossible.
"We should also prepare a delegation."
"Indeed. Since it's my sister's funeral, make it as grand as possible."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The prestige carried by the title of Britain's Princess Royal was immense.
For any other nation it might not matter, but a modest British delegation would only dishonor their face.
"Who from the cabinet will go?"
"I intend to."
"You'll go yourself, Robert?"
Edward VII looked surprised and concerned.
The Marquess of Salisbury's health was far from merely "poor."
In fact, the current cabinet was practically led by Arthur Balfour—Salisbury's nephew and frontrunner for next prime minister—in his uncle's stead.
Edward VII worried this trip would harm Salisbury's health further.
"Will your health hold up? Perhaps you should go with your nephew."
"Cough, cough! I can manage. This is none other than Princess Victoria Adelaide's funeral. I wish to attend."
Edward VII let out a short sigh at the old man's stubbornness.
Breaking this fellow's resolve would be no easy task.
"Besides, Sir Ponsonby's message concerns me."
"I see."
That did trouble Edward VII as well.
"Who would've thought young Billy would open his heart to my sister."
Even during his last visit to Schloss Friedrichshof, the relationship between sister and nephew had been at rock bottom.
Of course, as a brother, it was a relief that she'd passed with a smile on her face—but for Edward VII, it was quite perplexing.
"And that the one behind it is some Oriental boy named 'Hans Choi.'"
"He was quite the topic in London recently."
The yellow boy who saved nephew Wilhelm II from an anarchist bullet.
That alone was sensational fodder for thrill-hungry Londoners, but incredibly, the nephew had even taken the boy under his wing personally.
Upon hearing this, Edward VII and the British wondered if the sun had risen in the west.
Wilhelm II's fixation on yellow peril ideology was well-known even in Britain.
"Frederick says to watch the boy closely. He's a dangerous variable for Anglo-German relations."
"I think they might be overreacting."
"We'll see for ourselves soon enough."
Anticipating his meeting with the intriguing boy, Edward VII stepped into the funeral hall with a cheerful smile.
Of course, he couldn't meet Hans Choi right away.
First, he had to deal with his nephew, who openly scowled at the sight of him.
"It's been a while, Billy!"
"...You've arrived, Uncle."
Edward VII and Wilhelm II exchanged an awkward embrace.
"I heard from Frederick. You finally made peace with my sister, eh?"
"It wasn't full reconciliation—just mutual understanding."
"Same difference! It's a good thing anyway. Your father-in-law must be rejoicing in heaven."
His nephew's face softened slightly at the insincere flattery.
Still as easy to read as ever.
"I heard the reconciliation was thanks to that boy Hans."
"Pardon? Well, yes, but..."
"I'd like to thank him personally. Where is he?"
At Hans's name, Wilhelm II eyed his uncle suspiciously, wondering what he was up to, but Edward VII ignored it.
"Ah, there he is!"
Scanning the funeral hall, Edward VII soon spotted Hans conversing a short distance away with his nephew-in-law, the Crown Prince of Greece.
'First impressions aren't particularly striking.'
The only standout features were his skin color, different from those present, and the jet-black hair and eyes typical of Orientals.
'A conversation will reveal more.'
Murmuring to himself, Edward VII smiled amiably and approached Hans.