Chapter 570: A Pact in Gilded Halls
Gilded eagles gazed down from the walls as Wilhelm II reclined at the conference table, fingers idly toying with the silver chain of his pocket watch.
Opposite him sat King Albert of Belgium, elegant but visibly tense, flanked by the stolid Dutch Prime Minister.
They’d come to Berlin during the calm before the storm. Both knew that what lie on the horizon was likely another great war. And this time, they wanted to be on the right side from the start.
But beneath the silence lay question on everyone’s mind.
At last, Albert spoke it aloud.
"Your Majesty, forgive my candor... but is it not unusual that His Highness the Grand Prince of Tyrol is absent from these proceedings?"
A mild smile curved Wilhelm’s lips. His gray eyes glinted with faint mischief.
"Ah, my dear Albert. Bruno has spent three years cloistered in Berlin’s war offices, breathing telegram dust, ruling by fountain pen and telegraph wire. Months more overseeing Okinawa’s transition. If ever a man earned a season’s reprieve from strategy; it is he."
The Dutch Prime Minister cleared his throat, eyes darting to the large map of Europe behind Wilhelm’s chair.
"Still... one hears so many stories. That he can recite railway timetables from memory, or that he wept when the new reserves from Tyrol arrived, too young by half. That he ordered the bombardment of Kobe with such precision. Not to mention that ghastly business in Belgrade all those years ago. And now as we sit here to discuss the most important questions of the era he’s suddenly absent?"
Wilhelm’s mustache twitched. He leaned forward, palms splayed on the polished oak.
"Gentlemen, sometimes even the steeliest men must remember they are flesh. If you wish for him to stand unshaken when next your sons must march, better he has these small indulgences now."