Chapter 1: Vivienne’s Bipedal Advisor

“Tell me more. Tell me more of this ‘Napoleon Bonaparte’.”

With a start like this, one can imagine how things can go many ways. The results are, however, quite close to one another. But I believe I can’t digress into the abstract for too long before it becomes too jarring and boring.

An introduction.

My name is John Bukharin, and I have been displaced. I don’t know who did this or why, I only know that one day I woke up in a ditch somewhere in the middle of nowhere (or the Littlebay Region of the Kingdom of Aquileia). I was confused, worried, and then hunted down by some creatures before being ultimately found by a few feathered bastards that roughed me up a fair bit.

Not the best way to be introduced to an entirely new world where humans do not exist but… then I was then brought at the mercy of their boss.

Or Princess.

Compared to the rest of the gruntish Griffons that manhandled me left and right, the company of Princess Vivienne Discret was something of an intellectual struggle.

At first glance, a sophisticated royal, the heiress to the Kingdom of Aquileia and somegriffon that was voracious of knowledge and power in her pursuit of her ultimate goal: imperial dominance.

Vivienne was ‘softer’ in appearance, her dark-brown plumage contrasted by her dull blond hair and her cerulean eyes. Like many other Griffons, she wore clothes, but those were not the pompous dresses one would expect for a ‘princessly’ entity to put on, but rather those someone with a keen eye on comfortable and yet regal outfits should have.

And as I was getting tended to by a doctor and she rested right by my bed with curious and childish eyes, I filled her mind with truths that showed her true colors. She really tried to appear as the ‘humble lady’, but I could tell at first glance. The vicious and ruthless crave for authority.

I couldn’t blame her. My stories of the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte, Julius Caesar and other major conquerors all pulling on her upbringing. Born in Saddle Arabia while the First Aquilean Revolution took over this pseudo-French Kingdom in a time of grand revolutions, Vivienne was then presented with an army of scholars and military officers to give her education when the Monarchists subverted the Aquilean Republic in 985, two years after her birth. As a child that was limited to ‘food for the mind’, she instantly took a love for it all.

To many, she was already chosen as the heiress regardless of the current King’s desires. King Moriset was, after all, barely accepted by the staunchest monarchist, his rule a joke to various extents as he ruled by proxy through the influence his family had over the kingdom.

Even now many had suggested Vivienne thoughts that she herself thought dangerous due to their allure and their potential traitorous connotation. I admitted she wasn’t wrong considering that would be the one thing Moriset would expect. We talked of politics, gone was the pretense of trying to understand me as a species and more as an individual.

She was perking up alright as her wings stiffened to a degree of delight and childish intrigue over my words. She listened just as much as she spoke, and I spoke as much as I listened back to her.

In the end, Vivienne had an offer to forward and one that promised me a job for the duration of my unplanned stay in this continent.

“Join me, mon ami. I want to see this world made great, and so do you. I know, I can tell, the urge and the desire. Let us bask into the lights of the future glory.”

The night went through the talks and the wines. It was cute to see how embarrassed she was to wake up with her head resting on my lap. Embarrassed and flustered, yet not truly ‘upsetted’ or outraged by such a development.

Instead, you could say that it defined a degree of ‘trust’ with us.

I was given a custom outfit as a proper ‘butler’ of hers, and pretty much helped her around most of the time. I had a small room for myself, a bit of a purse of Idols (the name of the Griffonian coins) and I bought myself the bare minimum to outlast the current situation I was in for at least a week, maybe two.

As the days passed by and I was fully well and chatting actively with Vivienne on plots to follow and not to follow, it became clear on why she was here and not in the capital as the princess should be: the Fin d’Hiver was a celebration which was meant to be held here in Béroux.

It was to drink wine as the Winter ended, and to a promising year of prosperity for the fields and affairs of all sorts. Most of the royals were there and security was top-notch due to the active presence of revolutionaries. I was also there and my role was simple: I had to keep two bottles of wine on me which were taken from Vivienne’s personal collection.

One was actually a cheap bottle, the other was actually a sweet quality one.

She was hand picking- claw picking them, and I wasn’t sure why. At first, at least. If they knew the drink was good or bad they didn’t say, either because of but I was slowly realizing that this was not aimed at the Griffons that she was ‘pranking’.

It was meant as a lesson for me to know who to trust and who to distrust. An interesting way to show who will be her ally in the long run and who may have a presumed allegiance to Republicans without saying or gesturing much.

By the end of the wine-offering, we were informed that a drunk merchant had gone on a rant where he committed Lèse-majesté by ‘crapping on the policies of the King and giving a toast to his head… to be separated as soon as possible’. He was apprehended and sent to be ‘handled’ as per the royal authority.

Vivienne and I shared a brief exchange in that regard.

“Such a shame that those people are unable to see that a Republic is only going to invite incompetence in the long run.”

“Truly, truly. Maybe you could try to appeal to some if you play your cards right.”

A hint of surprise appeared at that idea, and yet the curious glint I saw in her blue eyes mentioned one thing. She had a plan. A big plan. And, for a while, I was utterly lost on what it could be.

Our ‘return’ to Aquila was also a big thing for me as I found myself relocated to a bigger room and with a more active presence around Vivienne. In her own words, I was ‘too valuable to be approached by troublesome spies’. I wasn’t sure if she was ‘protecting me’ or just treating me as a ‘treasure’ to keep away from other claws.

But the job was good, Vivienne was a pleasant boss, and despite a bit of racism here and there for being a ‘Diamond Dog/Minotaur’, I would say things were fine for someone of my status.

And then, a few months after my arrival, Vivienne beamed at me as one of her big plans was soon to fully manifest.

“We are going to Vinonia!”

Translation: we are about to hunt down some Republicans in the Land of Wine!

Author's Note

AN

Next time will be Vivienne’s POV.

P.S. Also, this is going to be updated regularly. I think once each week should do. The difference between this one and 'Clearly (Not) a King' is the pacing and the extent of the project early on. This will not be rushed and it will actually be structured like some of my stories in AlternateHistory plus... Well, plus the smut here and there.

There are plans to also commission fanarts, so for any artist interested, you can make yourselves know if you are open and interested. I may not answer you immediately, but I will keep track and make sure to start commissioning once I have enough money through the Patreon.