Published at 6th of February 2026 10:58 am

Chapter 855: The New Chancellor of the German Reich

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After the parade was over, Bruno found himself in a private conversation with the Kaiser far from the public eye. If there was ever a such thing as an after party to a military parade, this was it.

The palace beyond the Kaiser’s private office was alive.

Laughter echoed through vaulted marble halls, carried on the clink of crystal and the rustle of silk and dress uniforms finally allowed to loosen.

Officers who only hours earlier had stood rigid at attention now spoke too loudly, their voices buoyed by victory and wine.

Nobles congratulated one another with practiced enthusiasm, trading stories of where they had been when the final communiques arrived, as though proximity to triumph itself conferred distinction.

Music drifted from a distant salon, restrained and tasteful, yet unmistakably celebratory. Servants moved effortlessly between clusters of guests, refilling glasses before they were truly empty. The Reich was victorious, and tonight, it allowed itself to feel it.

And yet none of that noise crossed the threshold of Wilhelm’s personal office.

Here, the air was still.

The thick walls swallowed sound, leaving only the quiet crack of ice settling in crystal glasses and the faint tick of a clock older than the war itself.

Portraits of long-dead Kaisers and field marshals gazed down from the walls, their expressions solemn, unamused by revelry.

This was not a room meant for celebration.

It was a room for reckoning.

Victory, Bruno knew, belonged to the crowds outside, to the soldiers marching, to the families watching, to the empire at large.

But its consequences had always belonged here.

The two of them shared a drink while the Kaiser’s wrinkled fingers wrapped themselves around his crystal glass as he savored the amber substance with a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I just wish Nicky was here to see this day...."

Wilhelm’s words lingered in the air far longer than he seemed to intend them to.

Bruno did not answer immediately.

For a moment, the room felt heavier, not with grief, but with the weight of things that should have been different.

He had bent history, redirected wars, broken revolutions before they could fully take shape... and yet, Nicholas Romanov had still slipped through his fingers.

Not to bullets, not to mobs, or revolutionaries. But to a quiet sickness that no crown, no army, no divine right could command into retreat.

"Nicholas would have hated the parade," Bruno said at last, his voice low, almost fond. "He would have smiled, endured it out of duty... and then complained afterward that it was all too loud, too theatrical."

Wilhelm snorted softly. "That sounds like him."

"He believed victories should feel solemn," Bruno continued. "That if they felt celebratory, then the cost had been forgotten."

Bruno remembered long evenings spent in private chambers, maps spread between crystal decanters, Nicholas tapping ash into porcelain trays while speaking not of conquest, but of endurance. Of survival. Of holding together a realm that never stopped trying to tear itself apart.

"He once told me," Bruno went on, "that he feared living long enough to see peace. Said peace demanded answers war never did."

Wilhelm’s expression darkened slightly.

"In the end," Bruno said, lifting his glass just slightly, "he survived revolution, exile, and the knives of history... only to be claimed by something utterly indifferent to power."

Cancer had not cared that Nicholas was an emperor.

It had not cared that he was protected by treaties, armies, or destiny rewritten by foreign hands.

It had simply taken him.

He exhaled slowly.

"We reshaped the world, Wilhelm. But even we were never meant to save everyone."

For the first time since the evening began, the Kaiser said nothing. Still, today was a day for celebration, Bruno could never allow such a thing to sour the mood. Not here, not today. Instead he raised his own glass and made a toast.

"To Nicholas... To Franz Joseph... To your father Frederick, to all of those who came before us, and will come after... With this war we have honored their memories and preserved their futures."

Wilhelm smiled lightly upon hearing such a toast, drinking to it before speaking plainly.

"Why, Bruno, if I didn’t know any better I would say that you have become a sentimentalist after your retirement...."

Bruno could only roll his eyes, he was officially retired for less than three hours, and the Kaiser couldn’t help but make a joke about it. Even so, Bruno allowed himself a rare smirk, and a nod of approval.

A gesture that couldn’t help but spark further reaction from the Kaiser.

"My God.... Have I already passed and didn’t realize it? Don’t tell me that all along, you were death waiting to reap my soul?"

Bruno only chuckled further at this remark before responding in kind.

"Please... You have been saying that death has been at the door for the last ten years at least. You’re not going anywhere old man. You are eighty-three years old, and your grandfather lived to be ninety-one... With my investments in the field of medicine, you can expect to live at least another decade."

The Kaiser only ceased with his verbal jabs because he had more important matters to discuss.

"I’m sure you already figured out my intentions. You have already done so much... for me... for my house, for my country... and I have no right to ask you for more But I want you as my chancellor, Bruno. For the last years of my reign, I want you to make sure this country is on the right track before death finally does gain the courage to take me."

Bruno didn’t immediately accept the offer, despite already having the intention to do so. It would be impolite of him to be so eager to accept, when there was currently another man holding that position.

"And what of Kurt von Schleicher, are we really going to depose the Chancellor who presided during the war for the sake of a retired General?"

Wilhelm immediately knew the game that Bruno was playing, and sighed.

"Chancellor von Schleicher has had a change of heart after that fiasco in Geneva earlier this year. He has gained a new perspective on life and wants to live out the rest of his days in peace, with his family. He will be retiring when the next term in the Reichstag is up, which will be next year. When that happens I will appoint you to Chancellor."

Bruno couldn’t help but voice his grievances out loud as he thought about the Reichstag.

"So this is it... This is how I will spend my twilight years. Corralling a bunch of sheep who believe themselves kings..."

The Kaiser simply rolled his eyes at Bruno’s remarks.

"Oh, come now, Bruno. You know better than anyone that the Reichstag is largely administrative now. Ever since that nasty business in ’19, the Reichstag largely does whatever we tell them to do. And with you now looking over their shoulders at every hour of the day do you really believe they’d dare to question your orders?"

After much feigned contemplation, Bruno was quick to shake the Kaiser’s hand.

"Very well, for the next year I will remain retired, and come the next round of elections, I will step in as the next Chancellor of the German Reich."

Though Wilhelm knew the entire time that Bruno was going to accept his proposal. He had known the man since before he was even fully grown.

And the Kaiser had long since grown accustomed to Bruno’s social quirks. He simply smiled as he poured the two of them another drink, raising another toast as he did so.

"To the new Chancellor of the German Reich, long may he reign...."

The hint of sarcasm in the Kaiser’s voice did not go unnoticed by Bruno who accepted the toast nonetheless with the same degree of sincerity as his host.

"Hopefully not too long...."

The two men had a good laugh as they begin speaking of war stories. Of years past, battles won, campaigns fought. And all of the interesting figures the two of them had met and lost throughout their travels.

Peace had come to Germany, and for the first time in a long time, the nation didn’t have a war to fight, a conflict to prepare for.

For a time, they simply sat there.

Two old men who had bent the course of continents, now listening to the distant echoes of celebration that no longer belonged to them. Beyond the palace walls, Berlin reveled. Tomorrow, the newspapers would print photographs, speeches would be dissected, and the world would begin its slow adjustment to a new order.

But here, in the stillness of the Kaiser’s office, history felt finished.

Bruno found his gaze drifting once more to the portraits lining the walls. Men who had ruled, commanded, and conquered, each convinced, in their own way, that their era would be the one remembered. Most had been wrong.

He wondered briefly how long his own name would endure before becoming little more than ink on a page, debated by scholars who would never know the weight of command or the cost of victory.

Perhaps that was as it should be.

At last, Bruno rose from his chair.

"Enjoy the noise while it lasts," he said quietly. "Tomorrow, the work begins."

Wilhelm smiled, weary but resolute.

"Yes," the Kaiser agreed. "Tomorrow always does."

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