Long May Harmony Reign

Chapters

Chapter I: Time to Rule at Last
Chapter II: Behind Closed Doors
Chapter III: Defeat in Detail
Chapter IV: Will of the Regent
Chapter V: I Say Damn It

Chapter I: Time to Rule at Last

Grover grasped the imperial seal pinned to his red sashes as he entered the foyer, taking a seat close to the door whilst his guards flanked either side. Their dark green attire contrasted with Grover’s imperial purple regalia. The servant that had welcomed him in returned to the upper floors of the manor, Grover watching them disappear into a darkness that was quickly dissipated by lamps.

The grand room was lined with a dozen arts native to Feathisia. Traditional Feathisian art was paired with the recent trends that placed the common people – not the divine or noble – focal. He rested his sight on one of the contemporary paintings, letting the contrast that was the first sight of any entering the Grand Duke’s home settle in his mind. It was thought-provoking by itself, though Grover expected such coming from the griffon he knew. His thoughts were cut short as the older bird that called this mansion home walked down the stairs at the end of the foyer, the lights shining unto him in contrast to the darkness that encompassed his servant on the way up.

“Young Kaiser.” Gerlach greeted from across the foyer, Grover responding with a nod and subtle adjustment of his glasses. There was little for Grover to assume from what was said and how it was said. However, what wasn't said can sometimes inform much more than what was. Regarding the duke, Grover knew the diplomatic tone must have been hiding turmoil. None whose home was made their prison could ever be truly settled, no less an ambitious yet caring griffon like Gerlach was a decade ago.

The only thing that mattered to Grover was that very ambition. Right now, he needed the architect of Feathisian democracy, the Grand Duke the commoners adored across the Herzland. He needed him to forgo this imprisonment, the undoing of his life’s work by the imperial regent. It might not be an easy task, but Grover imbued the confidence befitting of his imperial title.

“Eros is dead.” The statement was blunt, but despite the bird having been the oldest on the continent by decades, Gerlach only showed a fleeting stare that was quickly defeated by his relaxed demeanour.

“It took twelve years.” Gerlach paused before approaching Grover, “I cannot see his doctrine of repression working for much longer. Given your presence, I presume you know that.”

Grover took a moment before he replied, reflecting upon the Feathisian art as mental guidance. One of the traditionalist paintings depicted the ducal palace here at De Vleugels, which was built reminiscent of the imperial palace back at Griffenheim. A palace from which Grover witnessed just how desperate of a situation the Reich was in; just two Kaisers ago it stood as Equestria’s equal. Alas, such was not to last. Grover drifted to the following painting that depicted commoners parading around the orange-and-yellow cockade. Such stories must have been witnessed by the Equestrian Princess time-and-time again for millennium.

The painting opposite depicted the imperial regent himself, Archon Eros VII, visiting De Vleugels to a crowd of commoners. It focused upon their varied reactions far more than the Archon. Grover had seen such reactions personally; commers hiding their spite – for ones they lost or hope that had been crushed – just to receive the charity of the Archon. Confliction was on every face Grover had ever seen in those crowds, gratefulness and hatred blended just as depicted.

The painting seemed accurate. Grover witnessed the Archon's ignorance personally, plaguing the entire regency council. Not one of them seemed wiser to the confliction upon the commoners was feeding the fuel for revolution, and what little they did understand seemed to only further the people's repression. Their only legacy being the fragile state Grover was to inherit, and the Kaiser had long learnt to hide his frustrated temptations from the outside world.

What in his mind felt like an eternity of reflection was just a few glances around the foyer to
the Grand Duke, unknowing of his admiration. “Eros has handed me a throne that will be soon beset on all sides by enemies; revolutionaries, nobles, and theocrats alike.” Grover looked Gerlach in the eyes, “If I continue down the path Eros has strayed, there will be fewer friendly faces around me than even my father.” And they won’t fail at regicide twice, Grover continued in silence but thought better than vocalising the grim prediction.

"Follow." He spoke softly as he turned towards the stairs, Grover following without saying a word, only waving a wing to halt his guards. They walked down a corridor on the upper floor, entering a nearby private study that seemed too modest for the grand country mansion it called home.

Gerlach took a seat in an armchair in the corner of the study, flanked by tall bookcases containing a plethora of books, from legal cases to fiction new and old. A similar seat was placed on the opposite corner of the room, flanked by short shelves that housed random items that included stationery and memorabilia, as well as being below one of the room’s two windows. The other was behind at the desk that dominated the back of the room.

“I’m surprised you came here.” Grover nodded in response.

“Eros never spoke highly of you but…” His words dragged on, “Your letters.” He cut short.

“Advice was the least I could do, Grover. So tell me, what’s the atmosphere down in Griffenheim?”

“Could be better." He shrugged, "Revolutionaries seem to want my head more now-than-ever. Aquileia and Karthinia seem ready to pounce on the corpse of my Reich, and the Federation is hardly any less ambitious.” Grover matched his list with motions of his claws.

“Could be. Is the threat of imminent revolution serious?” Gerlach leant forward.

“Serious enough that Benito hates the idea of me leaving the imperial palace, no less to talk to a traitor.” Gerlach subtly shifted his head.

“Benito is a good commander.” Gerlach admitted softly. “I pleaded to Eros that his repression, that his wars would not help revive Griffonia. Perhaps he would have listened if I had not sided against him.”

“Do you regret siding with Gabriela?”

“No.” Whilst his eyes stared directly at the Kaiser, Grover noticed no discernible change in his expression, “She… my wife may be ambitious, but I could have swayed her.” He could swear he heard a hint of desperation; such would make sense after a decade to brew on it all.

“And if she betrayed you like Eros betrayed those that sided with him?”

“My imprisonment here would have hurt in ways Eros could have never inflicted” His eyes swayed towards the door, Grover followed and noticed the painting above.

“Father…” He said lightly. “If only he wasn’t so weak.” Gerlach said nothing as his eyes returned to the Kaiser for a brief moment, “The revolutionaries, the nobles, the archons… they all preyed upon my father’s weakness.”

“I was no different. I led the forces that betrayed his son.”

“No!” Grover’s wings extended, but he calmly readjusted them moments later. “You aren’t the same. You fought for the people of Feathisia, not selfish interests. You’re something my aunt could never be. Truly noble.”

“Most don’t see it that way.” He said weakly, “They view me as the traitor to the Kaiser I am.”

“They don’t care whether you betray the Kaiser or not. They care whether you betrayed them. You never did.”

“Keeping my principles does not undo the consequences of Eros’ mistakes.”

“Revolution.” Gerlach hummed in agreement. “What Kaiser would I be to let revolution do my job.” Grover said with a smirk. “Our Reich will face a hard decade, and I can’t steer this sinking ship alone. I want you as my Prime Minister.”

Gerlach paused as Grover extended his claw. “Prime Minister?” While it was clear to Grover he intended to say more, however Gerlach cut his tongue.

“Well, I heard some people really like having a Prime Minister.” He kept his claw extended.

“Prime Minister is not a title to flaunt. The implications it brings forth could define your regime.” Grover finally returned his claws to his side.

“I’ve thought about it. As much as I’d like to take this country under my wing, it’s not yet ready. I need a second pair so our Reich can handle the load.”

Gerlach corrected his posture to be more regal “Eros has handed you a realm on spilled blood. Gabriela or the Archons deal much better with that.”

“Spilled blood is the status-quo that we both know is leading our Reich astray. It doesn’t matter how well Gabriela or Erion handle blood-politics, I’m not interested in it. It's too messy and too brutish to work. I have different ideas for Griffonia.”

“What ideas would those be?” Gerlach asked, causing Grover to stand up and move towards the window beside his chair. He pushed the curtains aside and waving his claws towards the glistening sun.

“Those of Princess Celestia.” Grover stated with authority as a strong smile broke across Gerlach’s face.

The Chronicle of Griffenheim

Luna Supports Gerlach as Imperial Prime Minister

Carina Harker | April 12th 1019, The Chronicle

In contrast to her sister reaffirming opposition to the Grover dynasty and support for the Republican government, Luna has come out in support of the Imperial Prime Minister while stopping short of endorsing the Grover dynasty.

In a statement made at 16:13 Griffenheim-time, Princess Luna stated “The appointment of Gerlach IV as Prime Minister bodes well for the Griffonian Empire, heralding a more prudent regime. I am hopeful for a bright future in the Herzland with Gerlach at its helm, a sentiment I am pleased to voice with all the liberties afforded to me as an Equestrian citizen."

The move was considered a surprise even by Equestrian correspondents due to its contrast to her sister’s continued support for the Griffonian Republic…

Grover threw the newspaper on the table Gerlach was working on, who was wearing navy-blue military regalia with a decorative collar embroiled with golden lace. For his part, Grover wore his typical royal purple regalia, but had forgone the sash and wore more authoritative epaulettes, while the imperial seal was maintained pinned to his chest. Gerlach seated near the head of a table that fitted dozens of people; designed for the entire privy council, cabinet, and more. The size of the room left plenty of space for the central table, seeming more like a hall than was strictly necessary. As with any room of semi-importance, the walls were pristine white marble with regal red contrasts that conveyed the supposed grandeur of the dying Reich. In this instance, the grandeur dwarfed the pair.

“Didn’t catch this. Luna’s in support.” Grover rested his claws on either side of the paper, leaning towards the table and waiting for Gerlach to look up.

“I saw. You were busy with the press, so I organised a separate invite to your coronation. Celestia is sure to deny per tradition, however Luna may accept independently.” He continued to study the previous decade of treasury reports.

“Should’ve told me straight away. It would be invaluable for my project.”

“Indeed. I spoke to her a few years ago, when De Vleugels was connected to the trans-Celestia telephone. She is incredibly persuasive and fiercely passionate. I would judge her as adept as rumour implies.” Gerlach finally looked up at the Kaiser, who was now looking out of the window into a finely groomed garden.

“Exactly why I want to speak to her. I’m anxious to get my project underway.”

“Luna may listen. She will also discuss uniformity.”

“She is a goddess.” Gerlach lightly coughed, Grover turned and rolled his eyes at him, “…a supposed goddess.” He continued softer, rebuiling the facade he let slip, “That’s entirely expected. But... Boreas-forbid if I touch the Archon’s precious traditions, we would be couped before I was even crowned.”

“She will not be easy to persuade.”

“I’ll just have to make it easy.” He paced towards Gerlach, “My project can’t be derailed into a spout with the archons. Not yet. She’s pragmatic. She’ll get it.”

“She is pragmatic.” Gerlach softly sighed, “But she is not naive. It will take care to ensure you sound constrained, not searching for an excuse. And of course, the more you tell her the more our enemies know our weakness.”

“Then this will be my first proper test, my first real-time speaking with a foreign leader.” Grover turned back towards the window. “Perhaps I could even fool Luna into thinking I’m weaker than I am. After all, I’m just a 16-year-old being dragged along by an elderly Grand Duke, scared of the upcoming struggle for power. If only I had a large minority of ponies backing me against the strings of the nobility and archons.” Grover was dripping with sarcasm, a paternal smile forming on Gerlach's face.

“The tone’s quite exaggerated. I doubt she views you as weak enough to fool.”

“Think she’s paid enough attention to me?”

“Most likely. Unlike our aristocrats, Luna and Celestia pay attention to small details. Such as that backdoor for press freedom you slipped through.”

He turned once again, “Guess centuries of privy does that; reformism it is then. I’ll send a telephone to her myself; personal code.”

“Now?”

“Unless you need my help with anything.”

“No. I can handle these reports myself, even if they are a headache. Been a decade free of the sensation. My wife and Ignatius are also waiting; can safely presume they want a place on the council.”

“They won’t be getting one.” Grover gritted his teeth. “They will be too outraged with me crowning myself, no different to the Archons.”

Gerlach scratched his wings before responding a few seconds later. “She will not be happy with me.”

“Apologies for that, but I can’t have reactionaries like her weakening me.”

“I know. Hopefully, I can delay any schemes she has.”

“Do…” Grover’s tone completely relaxed. “Do you love her?”

Gerlach smiled before responding. “Yes, but I love the people of the Reich more. If she divorces me over breaking my vows, it is a worthy sacrifice for you, nephew.”

“Thank you... uncle." Grover resisted a reciprocal smile, choosing to keep a sterner expression, "Eros never truly placed his faith in me. I would have been more of a victim to my court than my father. It wasn’t until his strokes in the last two years that I had any real experience with cabinet and privy, and even then, it was begrudgingly.”

Gerlach opened his beak to respond but thought better. Nevertheless, Grover caught the movement and spoke instead. “It’s alright, I know I was never going to reign as Kaiser under him.”

“I did not want to insult him. I may have opposed the griff, but he was there for you when I and especially your aunt were not; I could not insult him to your face.” Gerlach replied, looking down slightly.

“Wasn’t your fault he ripped up your constitution and put you under house arrest.” Grover giggled a bit.

“Humorous?” Gerlach looked back at the Kaiser.

“Just that it backfired so much. Soon you’ll be known as the architect of the Reich’s constitution, not just Feathisia’s.”

“Just as I always planned.” Gerlach playfully hummed.

After a few moments, Grover backed away. “Wish me like with the Princess of the Night.”

“Good luck, mein Kaiser,” Gerlach responded with a mix of formality and jest, causing
Grover to let out a small laugh as he left the room, quickly being flanked by Benito’s Barkginian Guard. It wouldn’t take the Kaiser long to reach his personal office, adjacent to his bedroom, leaving his security outside.

He flicked through his personal phone book, which had a list of key individuals the Kaiser may need at any time; one such listed was ‘Diarch of Equestria, Princess Luna’. Repeating the code into the phone, he began the call and took a seat. Within moments, he received a response from what was clearly a civil servant, speaking a rough but perfectly understandable Herzlander informing him that Luna would be with him soon. That ‘soon’ quickly turned into half an hour, but eventually, he had a response.

“Quite late to be receiving a call from yourself, Kaiser.” Luna began in a calm, regal Herzlander. Without knowing the voice from the few speeches he could find, he would have never recognised that the voice came from a foreigner, let alone an Equestrian diarch.

Should be mid-day for her, Grover thought to himself. “My apologies, Princess,” He matched her Herzlander with a perfect trans-Celestial Equestrian, mimicking the radio broadcasters that had become popular from Manehatten to Rottendedam. Despite the origin of the accent in radio, Grover maintained a regal nature not unlike Luna's Herzland. Nevertheless, his young age was not lost behind the manufactured accent or regal tone.

“Your Equestrian is admirable, Kaiser,” Luna replied in her own regal Equestrian.

“Thank you, Princess. Eros ensured I would have the best of educations, even if he seemed hesitant in my curiosity for Equestrian politics. After all, I couldn’t ignore the very image of modernity!”

“I shall keep that in mind.” Luna let out a polite laugh. “It is an unexpected honour to receive a personal call from you. Such were rare from your father and regent.”

“I’m afraid that will likely continue given Celestia’s statements on my reign.” Grover lied, rather expecting a dramatic increase in dialogue between himself and the Princesses.

“Is there more to this than trivial discussion?” Luna asked bluntly.

“Yes, there is. I have it that you spearheaded anti-discrimination against Thestrals?”

“That is correct…” Luna replied, giving Grover the impression that she was confused or concerned, though Grover questioned the sincerity of such emotions.

“As I imagine you know, my reign is in an… unstable position. Nobles, Archons, and revolutionaries alike waiting for any opportunity to take a slice of the pie that is my Reich.” Grover paused, allowing Luna to take in the information, “I’m looking for a solution to this issue, and you seem well regarded in such.”

“I suppose Gerlach suggested to find yourself a partner in myself?” Luna’s tone turned more maternal, and Grover assumed such indicated she was being truer to herself.

“I accepted his council, but the idea was mine alone.” Grover seethed behind the phone. “To be crude, Luna, discrimination is a failure. It fails to cement imperial rule beyond the Herzland and has for decades only weakened it. I have no interest in seeing it continue, and I know you wanted the same when it came to the Thestrals.”

“What prejudices are of particular concern to you?” Given the short while it took Luna to answer, her succint question clearly implied more curiosity.

“Ethnic-cultural. We expect every culture to speak our language, and make our institutes abide by that. It makes any business or bureaucracy in the Periphery or Vartai a nightmare,” Luna raised an eyebrow at that term, “which is having a compounding effect on their economy and worsening unrest. It's all exacerbated by my regent’s attempts at Herzlandification, and it’s no surprise such a naïve project failed.”

“Issues reminiscent of those endured by my dear Thestrals. A millennium of such hardship had left them forsaken and angry. The divide was left to fester for too long, my dear sister’s centuries of inaction to blame. I commend your recognition of the harm caused by linguistic repression; however, prejudices are a greater concern than mere language alone. Political and religious reforms will be necessary, Kaiser.”

“I am aware; however, my claws are tied. Political reforms I plan for are already ambitious, I cannot risk further tension with the nobility. I cannot touch Eros’ Act of Uniformity dare I not just weaken my reign but end any notion of personal freedom. The Archons are simply too entrenched in privy to dare oppose brashly.” Grover didn’t bother to restrict his passion for politics from slipping through, perhaps it would garner him favour through genuinity.

“Such justified my sister’s inaction. Are these truly the only reason you are hesitant?” Her question was clearly accusatory, though Grover expected such. He wanted such.

“I will govern however’s best for my subjects. My choice of Prime Minister should make that clear.” Luna felt the chill in Grover’s words, though such chill was entirely manufactured.

At least he possesses the wisdom to avoid the question, Luna thought to herself. “What reforms do you intend to bring forth? As limited as they may be, a flick of a pen shall not suffice.”

“Eros was wise enough to work with collaborators during his campaigns, many maintain close ties with Griffenheim. Increasing their role in local governance would allow the bureaucracy to start operating in the local language and simply report back in Herzlander.” Grover smirked behind the phone, “The ponies would be far harder to deal with due to their deep distrust; obvious given Eros turned a blind eye to the Reformisten.” Luna recoiled at the reference, “This… is where you come in. You can help reconciliation efforts between me and the hill-ponies.”

“You desire we serve as a middlepony between ponies and the endorsed decades of genocide?!” Compared to Luna’s inner shock, her reply was calm. Her disgust was still obvious to Grover, who was far from oblivious of the importance of his next word.

“Yes.”

Luna took a moment to reply, as if she was expecting more though its likely she knew that was all she was getting. “I shall not lend a hoof to a regime so complicit. Perhaps my sister is well founded to turn her back to your wretched dynasty.”

“You know very well that I was just a child!” Grover shot back methodically, returning to a colder tone afterwards. “I spent a week convincing Eros it was not just childish naiveté to have Wingfried hung.”

“Such makes no difference to those ponies." Luna's reply was calmer, more thougtful, "Your banner is no different to those that flew while they were slaughtered.”

“It could if you help me.” Grover was thankful his smirk remained hidden, it was easier when he didn't need to hide that too, “I’m still a child, I have a Prime Minister known for his liberal approach, and I would have the guiding claw of the Princess of equality.”

"And what if they perceive betrayal in me? What if I am regarded as a turncoat, lured by imperial riches?" Luna spat back, though Grover knew he had got what he wanted.

“That’s the risk we take as monarchs! The gods bestowed upon us a duty to every creature because only we have what it takes. Squander this gift and you are no better than Eros for doing the same.”

“Divinely-bestowed rights is not a belief of mine,” Luna said dismissively.

“Duties, not rights. And does it matter who gave us our duty?” There was a shake of discomfort in his voice, “Boreas gave me my crown, Celestia gave you yours, and the people gave the Kemerskais theirs. What matters is the duty we have and how we can better the world with it!” Luna paused to take in his words.

“Such is not the sole concern." Grover held back a sigh of relief, "My sister shall not permit me to simply trot over and aid a regime we do not even recognise.” Luna cringed as she realised her avoidance just like Grover earlier. Politically effective, politically effective, she reminded herself.

“Your Equestrian liberties suddenly disappear?”

“Really using my statement against me?”

“Oh, you’re surprised that the poor child Kaiser has a bite to match his screech?” Grover answered with extreme sarcasm. The beginning of a response from Luna was quickly interrupted. “Good! I want to be underestimated like that!”

Luna considered the ambition behind the young griff’s eloquence. “I’ll help.” She confirmed behind a sigh “Just how?”

“My Prime Minister is already onto that. You should soon receive a separate invitation to my coronation, as a ‘private citizen of notoriety’ rather than a world leader. Celestia can’t prevent you from your Equestrian liberties.”

“It could harm the influence of my Lunarists in privy.” Her counter was fleeting.

“The Solarists are barely hanging onto full control after the Great War. You can afford to attend a major coronation.”

“Privy is hardly secure. I fear an unnecessary absence will exacerbate such.”

“Celestia is the most capable leader in history; she won't falter with your absence!” Grover paused for a moment realising his excitement. “Lunarists backed the idea of a vote; shouldn’t parliament not fear you?”

“We do, but I wish to convince Celestia, not undermine her,” Luna said sternly.

“Hmmm.” Grover thought out loud, clearly faking such, “The Volksfront is holding a convention following my coronation. Gerlach will be lobbying on our behalf, so perhaps you join your old friend and make something of the convention.”

“You have a proposal for all, do you not?”

“It’s easy to present a solution to clear excuses. Your strawgriffs were clearly genuine, but these last ones have been far from so.” Grover responded. “Tell me what’s the issue?” Grover dropped the trans-Celestia, speaking Equestrian in a friendly Griffenheimer accent.

“There are none” There was a hint of dejection Grover picked up on, offering a private smile at the response.

“Okay.” He mirrored her maternal tone.

“I’ll be there for your coronation.” Following she promptly hung up the phone and made her way to a nearby table, quickly gulping down a glass of water. Like clockwork, Luna’s secretary, a small brown mare, entered the room.

“Everything alright, your highness?” They hung around the door waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” Luna smiled at her secretary, “It is merely that I am about to trot into the trap of an young ruler.”

Her secretary subtly titled her head. “Am I missing something, your highness?”

“No, the customary response would have offered a polite decline. Celestia would have.” Luna moved towards the door and subtly flicked her mane, “I am just indulging in a touch of ambition, perhaps.”

Chapter II: Behind Closed Doors

Grover looked out across the palace square being warmed by the early sun. Kaiser’s College was partially visible from his quarters. He only spent just a year there, and what little he learnt was more useful when compared to what wasn’t. War classes were the one exception.

In contrast to the patriotism of his older peers, Grover felt only apathy for the very idea of military theory. He couldn’t deny admiration for conquerors like Arantigos and Grover the Great, but it was fleeting. Fittingly, his windowsill was home to two items: an old Karthinian wreath and an Equestrian crown. It was claimed by the Imperial Palace that were once worn by the First Karthinian Kaiser and Celestia respectively, but such was unlikely. Nevertheless, they were the very symbols of the brutal manipulation and benevolent exterior he aspired to.

His skin jumped as the sun glistened off his shoulders, the difficulty of the task ahead once again led his mind astray. The First Kaiser and Celestia excelled in their respective talents, perhaps being the most cunning and propagandised statecreatures in history. Following in their steps was possible; Grover knew it. He knew Luna’s aid would bring the ponies to his side, he knew he could rely on the commoners and military to oppose the archons and hochadel. But none of that made the thought any easier, nor made the heat of Celestia’s sun on his shoulders any less apparent. Perhaps in bringing his form harmony to Griffonia, Grover would fly too close to Celesta’s sun.

With the sun beginning to strike his face, Grover pushed his talons off the balcony and headed through his quaint office and towards the door. When his father died, Grover rejected the opportunity to move into the imperial room; the idea being too traumatising for the then-fledgling. And in the twelve years since, Grover never moved in and with his transition to power requested a room adjected to the cabinet office. Grover lightly opened the door, the older griffon already at work.

“Hope I haven’t been keeping you.” He greeted in a soft voice.

“No worries, young Kaiser.” Gerlach gestured towards a kettle and coffee, Grover taking the invitation and pouring cups for the pair.

“Is my aunt in Griffenheim yet?” Grover tapped his claws on the desk before picking up the cups.

“Yes. She arrived late last night.”

“Have you seen her?” He asked softly, taking his seat beside Gerlach.

“Yes.” Gerlach’s reply was just as soft, aided by a subtle smile, “I welcomed her from Central and set her up in the east wing. She is very… eager to see you once again.”

“Of course she is.” The softness in Grover’s voice disappeared. “You know she never wrote to me once?”

Gerlach leant back into the chair and shuffled an inch, “Eros did oversee most letters into the palace. He even intercepted mine, after all.”

“Did she ever bring it up?” His eyes locked onto Gerlach and narrowed as he awaited a response.

“No.” His admission was nearly toneless, “She never seemed concerned once.”

“Then you know she is only here because she thinks you control me.” Grover’s left wing twitched behind him.

“How are you going to approach her?”

“I’ll play to her assumptions.” Like a flip of a switch, Grover’s body relaxed into his chair, “It will make her easier to deal with if she drops her guard and says something treasonous”

“There is a simpler way of achieving that.”

“I’m not using you to bring down your wife.” As satisfying as that would be, “It may be easy, but burning bridges with my duumvirate partner, willing or not, would be foolish.”

“You consider this a duumvirate?” Gerlach raised his eyebrows.

“I soon expect it to be a triumvirate with Bronzetail. Your influence over me will make Gabriela and Eros look feeble in comparison.”

Which is unfortunate, Grover thought to himself and rested his head into his talons, as much as I need Gerlach and Elias, forfeiting such authority has… poor historical precedent. I just hope I don’t end up being Lark Antony; that would make a tragedy for the history books.

“You are correct. I have not really considered the dynamics of our relationship yet.”

“It’s why I chose you. Ambition without lust makes you valuable.” Your magical ability to build bridges doesn’t hurt, either. “Means it doesn’t matter that our ideals diverge.”

“Oppose my ideals of democracy, I presume.” Gerlach’s accusation took Grover by surprise, though there was no harm in indulging him.

“Yes.” Grover left his answer to sit before continuing, swirling his half-empty coffee in his talons “There’s merits in it, can’t allow another revolution so I will compromise, but I envy Celestia. I envy that she can stare her people down and tell them ‘no’ when they get ideas of replacing her. I envy her real control over Equestria, the kind we haven’t had since Grover the Great.” Grover placed his coffee down, leant back to look at the intricate ceiling, his wings sprawled out, and he let out a soft sigh, “But alas I do not sit in Canterlot, nor do I rule over the strongest empire the world has ever seen. I sit in a façade of a palace hiding a brittle realm my predecessors handed onto me; to fix or… die trying.”

Gerlach paused while he took in his nephew’s words, a small smile eventually forming on his face, “Eros try to beat those harmonic ideals out of you?”

“Yeah” Grover chuckled, “Had a copy of Twilight’s Journal burned when he caught me reading it. Luckily, he thought I was a child too incompetent to have more than one.”

Gerlach chuckled as well. “I am glad you held onto such an independent soul.”

“If I didn’t, our Reich would very soon find itself a Republic.” Grover shifted to a regal posture, “The archons tried anything yet?”

“Proteus wanted access to you last night, ignoring me completely. I have Bronzetail to thank for keeping him away. Erion set off from Romau overnight, should be in Griffenheim soon.”

Grover rested his claws below his chin, “Try to organise a private meeting with Erion and Proteus, I need to keep them docile for the time being.” Grover stood up and began to pace back and forth within Gerlach’s vision, his eyes tracing the Kaiser as he did.

“How do you plan to deal with them?” Gerlach took a deep sip from his coffee.

“It’s quite simple; without Eros, those two will bicker endlessly. I just need to spark that flame, and finding the kindle is on you.”

“I’ll find something, Kaiser.” Gerlach returned to the paperwork in front of him while Grover exited the room, Benito close behind.

The morning wind blew strong across the square, the palace wings funnelling it from the central avenue that led to the palace. Except for the statue of Grover the Great, the wind blew freely. While it ruffled Grover’s feathers and sent a chill across his body, Grover gave little physical recoil. It was good to feel the same winds Grover the Great did all those years ago.

He entered the east wing through an identical door that he left the west wing through, shining white with overly intricate golden ornamentation. Grover internally laughed at the utter contrast between the glamour of the palace and the impoverishment of millions across the Herzland. Yet Eros and Gabriela offered nought but gold and bread; pathetic bribes the spirit of Kemerskai made pointless.

Inside of the east wing was no less lavish than the west. The same marble linings, royal red decals, and the parquet flooring that still shined enough to show Grover his reflection; pitiful. It was at the further end of this wing that the short-lived Reichsparlament was established. Far from that chamber, Gabriela had chosen the most lavish quarters. Such was no surprise for the heiress presumptive to have chosen the only room that matched her elegance.

The doors to the lobby were only marginally smaller than the side doors that lead to the square, and the inside maintained appearances. Roughly half the size of the cabinet office, it could fit half a dozen easily, four on the central cream couches. Grover took his seat opposing the doors to Gabriela’s room, subtly adjusted his glasses.

Continuing to do so for a mindless few minutes before the doors opposite opened, Gabriela emerging just as Grover settled his glasses. The pink griffon quickly exclaimed Grover’s name, the Kaiser simply nodding and smiling in response.

“I wasn’t expecting you so early. When the news of your premier broke, I knew I had to come down.” Her words came out rushed and unprepared, though for most her natural elegance would cover. But it wasn’t enough for Grover, and it was clear to him she’d awoken minutes ago; at least her lies won’t leave her beak prepped.

“I truly appreciate it, auntie.” The lie rolled off his tongue as if it were second nature. “Eros’ passing was a shock to all of us here. Uncle will be a lifeline in helping me rule for myself.” Gabriela took her seat opposite Grover, Benito maintaining his a glare in her direction.

“He has always been an amazing statesgriff. I married him for a reason.” Gabriela smiled as he mentioned her husband, “I was wondering why you gave him Prime Minister of all titles?”

“It was the title that his Grand Duchy used. I thought it would be familiar for him.” It’s popular, that’s the only reason.

“You should know that it’s a title that holds a lot of weight, especially in the talons of my husband. While certainly no republican, my husband does have sympathies like them, and that title is heavily associated with that.”

“Ah.” Grover internally cringed at his performance. “I know. Gerlach says it will help mend the gap that has formed between me and the commoners, and I think it will. Uncle was passionate about mending that gap to keep me safe from another revolution.” The words may have been true, but the lack of authority communicated made them feel like lies. The false persona was already grating Grover just as much as Gabriela was; it’s so weak, so naïve, so pathetic.

“Perhaps you should consider widening your circle of advisors? Most nobles don’t like these sorts of… projects my husband entertains.” She replied with a smile as fake as Grover’s acting, making it more than obvious where she was heading.

“You want to help?”

“My talons are here if you or my husband ever need it.”

“I don’t know if more nobles in my court will help. Eros always warned me of their greed, and Uncle seems hesitant as well.”

“Well…” Gabriela began. “There are some nobles that don’t deserve the right Boreas bestowed upon them, but the Archons have successfully removed them. There is nothing to worry about from nobles like me and my husband.” Her response was predictable, a part of Grover was joyous at how easy this was, but another part was disappointed.

“Why did you and uncle fight Eros?” Grover continued his façade of naivete.

“We just didn’t agree on how the Reich should have been run, and we were both very ardent that the other was wrong.” Poor response.

“Eros called you and uncle traitors.” Grover probed. “Why did you betray him?”

“We considered him just as much a traitor.” Perfect, “That’s all in the past, I’m here for you now.”

“You consider my late regent a traitor?” Grover egged her on, trying his best to hide the smirk he ever so wanted to show off.

“It’s all in the past.” Gabriela tapped her wing against the seat, Grover’s eyes darting to the movement. She’s getting nervous.

“He always said everything he did was entrusted to him by Boreas until I’m old enough to take on Boreas’ burden. Do you mean to say I’m a traitor to the Reich too?” Nowhere for you to go, is there now?

“No, you could never be a traitor as the Kaiser!” Her defence was brash and thoughtless, not waiting a moment, “Eros leading the Reich astray was his betrayal to you, to us all!”
Got her.

He audially sighed, crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “Benito!” Grover’s tone snapped; the façade being swept away in an instant. Benito quickly obeyed his kaiser, the small detail that had accompanied Grover closing all the lobby doors and leaving the Kaiser and his aunt alone.

“Grover?” Gabriela let an inch of worry slip through her façade.

Grover stood up, “You rebel against the authority of my regent,” Grover pointed one claw up, “at his death seek to manipulate the Kaiser he acted in authority of,” Grover lifted a second claw, “and then dare call him a traitor, and your Kaiser in the process?” Grover’s tone was more refined than ever as he lifted a third claw, “You dare treat me like a child you cared for?” he quickly snapped all three claws down.

“Grover?”.

“Kaiser!” Grover barked.

“Kaiser,” Gabriela corrected, “I never intended to rebel against your authority. We could not let Eros drive the Reich into the ground.” Excuses.

“Gerlach and Othmar fought for their righteous constitutions. What did you fight for?”

“To prevent the Reich from falling! You must see the horrid state we are in!” Grover shook his head.

“Lies.” His tone was much softer yet remained regal, as if he was scolding a disappointing child. “I know the horrid state of my Reich much more than you, and your lust for power would only continue its decline. This betrayal of Boreas’ trust. Tell me why I shouldn’t have you executed for treason? Maar, allowing the revolutionaries to lynch you might even save my reign.” Grover finally let that growing smirk emerge as he let out the threat.

“I always fought for you.” She replied sternly, regaining her composure, “I never intended for it to go the way it did”

“You can’t even answer a simple question; all you intended was to be the one in my chair. Do you truly want to help?”

“Of course! The Kaiserpartei has regained a lot of its influence amongst the Niederer Adel. They will be vital in supporting your rule.”

“I’m perfectly aware of what the Kaiserpartei can and cannot be used for.” Grover said sternly, “I have no interest in it being the foundation of my rule like the Rat der Drei was the foundation of Eros’.”

“Grov-” He flexed his wings, “Kaiser, you cannot push both us and the archons aside. It will…”

“It. Will. What.”

Gabriela sighed before replying, adjusting her posture to be upright, “The Hochadel and Archonates are the pillars of this Reich.” Her tone had shifted as well, from her usual elegance to something more… ruthless, “The civil war was between us, between me and Eros, and it was nothing more.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Duchess. It’s not the nobles or archons at the heart of my Reich.” Grover smirked at Gabriela. “It’s the people and their indomitable martial spirit. It’s the Reichsarmee and the commoners.” Gabriela’s eyes squinted ever so slightly, but she stayed silent, “Understanding that was how a lowly artillery officer claimed himself Presidential-Marshall but a mile from where we are. Understanding her people and their spirit is how Celestia has ruled uncontested for millennia. I don’t need you, aunt. I need Gerlach, I need Elias.”

“Kemerskai? Celestia?” She half tutted, “Taking inspiration from them?”

Grover rolled his eyes, “Says the person who lost power a decade ago. I want you to be honest with me, Eagleclaw, what reason do you have to not follow Celestia’s shadow?” I know the answer, of course.

“Have you read their manifestos? Seen their armies? It's everything the Reich stands against.”

It wasn’t a surprise to Grover that Celestia’s harmony, harmony in general, was dismissed by the traditional powers of the Reich. After all, it was the antithesis of their rule. The ignorance nevertheless frustrated him.

“Yes. I saw Pegasi regiments crush Ebonwing’s panzers in Cloudburry. Not long before I saw the body of the President-Marshall hang. Tell me, do you think we’ll ever be able to defeat an Equestrian army in their rebellious backyard?”

Gabriela collected her thoughts, “No.”

“Do you think my father’s rule was good for my Reich?”

“Your father was a great griff!” Gabriela was extremely quick to answer.

“I don’t care whether my father was a great griff, I care whether he was a great kaiser.”
Grover reiterated methodically.

Gabriela tapped her claws against each other, Grover counting each tap as it landed, “No.”

Grover let another smirk emerge on his beak, “Then let’s move forward. Keep the Kaiserpartei in check, and I’ll keep the Rat der Drei in check.” Grover extended his claws casually, “Oh, and of course I won’t have you or any other aristocrats lynched.”

“Abandoning both of us will only make you like your grandfather.”

Grover stood up, retracting his claw and raised his voice, “I will not fail like he did. Like my father did.”

“You are young… Grover. Just sixteen. If the realities don’t set in now, they will soon enough.”

“Grover the Great was twenty-two when he took the throne. The First Karthinian Kaiser was nineteen when he joined the second triumvirate. Arantigious the Great was just twenty when he set to conquer Griffonia.”

“Thousands have failed to live up to their legacies. It’s dangerous to fly so close to Boreas' sun.”

“You just don’t understand, do you?” Grover placed his claw couch arm, “We don’t have a choice. Dream high or we will all be lynched like my father should have been!”

“You always,” Gabriela started slowly, “always have a choice. Implement my reforms, calm the archons, the nobility, and the commoners by not rocking the boat. Don’t fail like Grover IV, don’t spend your time fighting when you could govern.”

“Your reforms were never going to be enough,Duchess,” Grover growled. “The commoners still hate us, no matter how much gold and bread Eros threw at them. They hate us because we refuse to listen to the song they sing.”

“So, you want to be like Celestia?” Gabriela asked exasperated, “When her subjects sung she let them get away, just to get stabbed in the rear.So much for her harmony and friendship.”

“Severyana was a blackhole for Equestrian agriculture. You don’t rule over those that want to kill you; you either let them go or die.”

“All you’ve told me is how much everyone wants to kill us. Your grand idea to give up? That’s how you want to honour your father’s legacy?”

“Fuck his failed legacy.” Grover yelled harshly, “I am not any other Grover.”

Gabriela’s eyes rose to Grover as he lashed his talons towards her, barely enough time to comprehend his actions. As his claws grasped her neck, she felt a sharp pain just as her body was dragged forward and onto the ground, directly below the Kaiser. Grover stared downwards; his eyes focused on his bloodied talons in silence bar Gabriela’s rapid pulse. Without breaking the silence, Grover extended his bloodied claws down to Gabriela, the duchess returning a blank stare that saw nothing behind his glasses.

“Gerlach couldn’t have…” She murmured as she accepted his talon. Grover continued to stand, using his sleeves to subtly rub at his claws.

“Gerlach is the only reason I didn’t have Bronzetail deliver you to the revolutionary mob. I hope you take that threat seriously now.” His voice was cold. “Now, do we have a deal, Duchess?” There was barely a façade of a question.

“Yes, Kaiser.” Gabriela held the side of her neck, staining her claws, “What now?”

“The obvious.” His voice had switched tones in a heartbeat, echoing his earlier regal authority, “I need you to pledge your eternal loyalty to me personally. Not to the Reich, not to the Crown, not even to the people. To Grover von Greifenstein, sixth of his name, the Kaiser of Griffonkind.”

Gabriela looked at Grover with uneven breathes, “I, Duchess of Strawberry… Gabriela Eagleclaw, pledge eternal loyalty to Grover von Greifenstein… sixth of his name, the Kaiser of Griffonkind.” Her pledge was clearly half-hearted, but that was enough for Grover.

“You’ll await here in this palace until further notice. Feel free to visit your husband or enjoy the wonders of the imperial capital but remain here. I’ll need your services soon enough, aunt.” Rather than endearing, aunt now stung the duchess to her core.

“Yes, Kaiser.” The satisfaction at her submission was crushed by the feeling of blood dripping down his talons. His mind of course exaggerate the true extent, but it was enough to irritate him.

“Benito!” The dog instantly entered the room, flanked by two guards. Benito looked at the Kaiser’s claws but said and expressed nothing. “Ensure she has the best protection we can offer. We couldn’t afford for her to be harmed, now can we aunty?”

Gabriela remained seated, looking down at her claws for minutes after Grover had left. Two guards were left with her, not bothering her but neither giving her the privacy she desired. She had to reach for a clothe herself. Memories flashed through the duchess’ mind from years ago. First the archon’s abuse of the people for their power, and now her nephew was foolishly following in the shadow of a foreign monarch. No, it’s not his fault. He has no choice but to submit to Celestia’s ‘harmony’. This is my fault. I failed them, I failed them all. Boreas… forgive me.

On the other side of the lobby’s doors, Grover rested his back against a marble wall and looked at the ceiling. This one’s a lot less interesting, Grover chuckled to himself. He used his sleeves to rub at his claws again. Out, out, out, he yelled internally as a guard handed him a clothe that finally allowed his claws to return to their natural colour.

“A change of clothes, Your Majesty?” Benito asked, Grover continuing to look up.

“I’ll deal with that back at my quarters. Inform Gerlach I’m done.”

Chapter III: Defeat in Detail

The face that looked back at him was cold. If one was to take a glancing look, they might call it kind, but Grover knew what was behind his eyes. One only had to look to his stained sleeves to glimpse the parts of him Grover tried to keep hidden. I wonder what you see in the mirror, Celestia.

Grover lifted the shoulder strap that kept his small golden epaulettes attached, placing both items on a table to his left. Following, he lifted the purple tunic off, revealing a basic white undershirt that was otherwise entirely hidden. He threw the tunic over the back of a nearby chair, reaching for an identical tunic on his right. Grover repeated his previous actions in reverse until the only difference from before was the lack of bloody sleeves.

To complete his look, Grover grabbed a pair of white gloves he had previously neglected. They would hide any blood he might have missed on his claws, though obsessive checks revealed nothing. He made his way to the door to his study, brashly opening the door and immediately moving to open the curtains behind his desk. The view was practically identical to his quarters next door, and the sun fully illuminated the room.

Sitting on the chair behind the desk, looked down on a book that had been left from the night before. A rather plain cover read “Il Principe”. He grabbed and placed it into a small bookcase under his desk, taking another book and placing it upon his desk. Unlike the Wingbardian of the previous title, this one was translated into Herzlander. “Discourses” it read. Placing the book on his desk, he turned to the sixteenth chapter and traced a claw along the title, feeling the thin paper brace under his sharp talon; “That a People accustomed to live under a Prince, if by any accident it become free, can hardly preserve that Freedom.”

Grover skimmed through the chapter, his claws landed on a passage around halfway through the chapter, reading “I say that the prince who seeks to gain over an unfriendly people should first of all examine what it is the people really desire, and he will always find that they desire two things: first, to be revenged upon those who are the cause of their servitude; and second, to regain their freedom.”

“It’s like he wrote for a ‘Prince’ just like me”, Grover murmured to himself before letting out a light chuckle, “more like my ancestors make predictable mistakes.” Grover looked at the door expectably, “Eros may be dead, but you still live, Erion.”

Like clockwork, Grover heard a brash knock on his door and with just a flick of his wrist Benito opened the door and Erion walked in. Compared to Proteus, and especially Eros, Erion was rather young. He wasn’t a literally teenager like Grover but having risen to the role of Archon in his forties, and soon crossing his sixtieth year, the archon had plenty of decades left.

The archon looked like Grover in many ways. Both had a small build, beige feathers, and sharp blue eyes. Behind those eyes, both shared a lust for control and the aptitude to gain it at frightening rates. Nevertheless, the two could not be more different for Grover was born an heir to an empire, whereas Erion was born to poor industrialist workers. One earned their power, while the other was gifted it on a silver plate.

Erion bowed as he walked into the room, Grover quickly permitted him to rise and telling him to “sit”. Erion did without delay, his claw traced the back of the chair before he took his seat. He seems confident.

“Erion.” Grover said simply, “You should know why you’re here.”

“The fate of the Rat der Drei.” His reply was blunt, though he let a small smile slip, “Your choice of premier is a mistake, Grover.”

“It’s the choice I’ve made. I won’t defend it to you. We both know it wouldn’t matter.” Grover matched his blunt tone, cutting the smile off Erion’s beak, “My Reich will head in a new direction-”

Erion cut Grover off, “I know you’ve met with Eagleclaw before me. You’ve appointed van Weijermars as Prime Minister. Its clear Eros’ warning went through one ear and out another.”

Grover let out a simple laugh, “Erion, there isn’t much beyond our appearance that makes us alike. But we share hatred for the Hochadel.”

“Then why Weijermars and Eagleclaw?” Erion’s question seemed genuine.

“For the latter, it was to make her bend the knee and then exclude her. I want nothing to do with her.” Erion scoffed at the statement, but said nothing more, “Gerlach is not a traditional aristocrat. He owns little profitable land himself, and as Grand Duke only weakened his personal authority. He, like myself, is a reformist of the modern age.”

“He stood side-by-side with Eagleclaw in armed rebellion against you, Kaiser. Its…” Erion lifted a claw up, “He is dangerous.”

“Officially, I pardoned him eight years ago.”

Erion’s jaw nearly dropped, but he maintained his composure, “An official pardon does not change the fact he was a traitor. A republican sympathiser that cuddled up to those scum in the Kaiserpartei.”

Grover rolled his eyes, “Let’s talk about Proteus.”

“Where is he?”

“I talked to him last night,” Erion’s eyes narrowed, “We came to an agreement.”

“On what?” He scowled.

“Don’t worry,” Grover replied paternally, “it has nothing to do with the Rat or Archonates.”

“Did you discuss the fate of the Rat der Drei to him?”

“You know what he’s like; hates admin. Had no care for being part of the executive.”

“So, you offered him something regarding the Knights of Arcturius.” He stated more than asked.

“You might believe such; I couldn’t possibly say." Grover answered tonelessly.

“Seems you took the worse lessons from Eros.” Grover placed his claws over the book on his desk; not quite. Erion’s eyes darted down to his claw, looking at the book, “I know of that author. He’s scum.”

“You consider a lot of people scum. It doesn’t mean much.” Grover replied with a subtle smirk.

“A lot of people deserve it. Like him.”

Grover picked up the book and showed the cover to Erion, “I presume you know The Prince,” Erion nodded in agreement, “What about this one?”

“Discourses?” Erion hummed for a few moments, “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Grover said as he placed the book down and slid it over to Erion, “Heard it summarised as a love letter to the Karthinian Republic. It’s a fair assessment.”

Erion tapped his claws on the book and grasped it in his talons, “Fair enough inspiration.”

“My father kept The Prince in his quarters. So did my father and my great-grandfather. But the Discourses?” Grover looked directly at Erion, “Only my grandfather. It’s a shame; it’s like getting only half the tale, so it's no wonder my Reich has fallen so far.”

“You place the blame on what books past Kaiser did or did not read?” He asked with doubt.

“Metaphorically.” He answered with a smile, “Most have read The Prince, and whether they realised it or not took lessons from it. The same doesn’t apply to this book,” Grover pointed, “and I think it’s much more valuable for the likes of us.”

“Us? Why so?” Erion leant forward, keeping hold of the book.

“Ruthlessness,” Grover lifted one claw up, “and restraint.” Grover lifted a second claw, “It’s easy to point to those with one or the other. Grover II and Beakolini, and then Luna and Grover IV. Those with both?” Grover leant back into his chair, his wings resting on either arm, “Me, you, and my greatest enemy.”

“And who would your greatest enemy be?”

“Look out the window. Look across this desk. Her influence is all around us;” Erion followed his directions, but looked loss, “At least she’s convinced half the world of such.” Including myself, Grover chuckled internally.

Erion smiled at his revelation, “Princess Celestia,” Grover nodded in agreement, “You dream high, Kaiser.”

“When surrounded by a crumbling realm, I must. But that crumbling realm is my first concern.”

“Take my council. Your Prime Minister can be a puppet while those with real power pull the strings.” Erion rested his head on his claws.

“I cannot. I need revival, not continuity.”

“You mean to say I’m a threat,” Erion replied coldly.

Grover matched his tone, “I mean to say you’re not.” Not if I have my way with it. “Erion, your services to my late regent are very welcomed, but I am not my regent. My Reich and his Reich will not be the same, and the role you played in his Reich no longer exists.”

Erion tapped the arms of his chair, “I still control the Archonate of Eyr, Kaiser.” His words were bitter, “I still control the Free City, Kaiser. I am more of a threat than you give me credit for.”

Grover sighed and slouched into his chair, “It wasn’t the Knights.” That is true, “It was the next Archon.” That is not so true.

“What?” Eion said sharply.

“He requested - more like threatened - I don’t interfere in the election. I would presume he has someone lined up already.”

Erion’s body tensed as he gripped his claws, “I… I didn’t expect that from him.”

“As I said earlier, he’s known for hating politics. Seems he just hates you more.”

“Why tell me? He could have been an ally for you.” Erion relaxed his claws, though remained tense.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted the Rat der Drei out. He may have got the first slash, but he miscalculated in thinking I had his interests in mind.”

“And it benefits you to have me and Proteus fight.” A hint of pride came through at his ‘discovery’. Shame Proteus has no such plans.

“Yes. I doubt he realises what he has done.” Let’s hope I know what I’m doing.

“Of course, he hasn’t.” Erion flicked a claw in the air, “I have no choice but to strengthen my position in the Rat rather than strengthen its position. He’s not even going to get the electors he wants, I’m more influential in the college!”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be so sure about that.” His eyes narrowed at Grover, “Eros’ may have hinted at an intended successor.”

“No…” Erion murmured and placed a claw on his forehead, “I’m surrounded on both sides.”

“I did promise Proteus I wouldn’t interfere with the electors, but I also must find something for the General Staff.”

“Make him chose between fulfilling Eros’ final wish, and the soldiers he loves ever so much,” Erion smirked with glee.

“Oh, you may think that Erion; I couldn’t possibly say.”

Erion stood up and patted his regalia down, “Well this was a nice chat, Kaiser. I hope we have many more to come.”

“Good day, Archon.” Erion opened the door, “One more thing, Erion.” The archon turned to face Grover, “I like you.” Grover resisted scoffing at himself, “It’s good to have an ally outside of Griffenheim.”

“Thank you.” Erion replied, half-warm and half-cold.

As he shut the door, Grover beckoned Benito closer, “Inform Gerlach it worked like a charm.”

As Benito whispered the command to a lower servant, Grover grasped the book on his desk and looked out the window. It’s funny, Grover thought to himself, if only he would ask Proteus for the truth. But he won’t, too distrustful of those around him, especially now I’ve extended an olive branch his way. I doubt he’ll ever repay my ‘kindness’ without needing something in return, but he’ll eventually need me. And it won’t it just be a shame when my help isn’t enough to save him? Grover let out a soft laugh as he sat in his chair, catching the attention of Benito who stood silent as the loyal guard he was.

10:56. That was the time the grandfather clock behind Grover indicated. Infront of him laid another oval table, roughly the same size as the one in the cabinet office. The utilitarian ebony of this table contrasted not only with the cabinet table but also with the very room it was in. Found in the south wing, this room housed the Generalstab of the Reich, the head of both the Reichsarmee and Kaiserliche Marine. While the south wing was nowhere near as overly lavish as the east and west, the room was still well-kept and lined with white marble. Each end of the room, behind Grover’s chair and the Chief’s chair, were portraits of Grover the Great and Grover II respectively; the very same imperial seal pinned on Grover’s chest emphasised in both.

“And somehow this little seal gets veterans to bow to a child.” Grover murmured to himself, “Soon enough they’ll bow for real.” Grover rhythmically tapped the table, attempting to replicate the imperial anthem as best he could. “Hail, Kaiser, dir!” Grover sang quietly, interrupted by a knock on the door. The clock now read 10:59.

Grover signalled for Benito to open the door, and eight officers walked into the room as Benito returned to his Kaiser’s side. The first that walked in, standing behind the chair closest to Grover on his left, was Elias Bronzetail; the Chief of the Generalstab. Behind him was the Vice-Chief Erich Ebonwing, positioned next to Elias. Finishing the left side of the table was Proteus III, the highest panzer officer Reinhold Thundertail, and the highest artillery officer August Duskwing. On the right side of the table, the Grand Admirals Konstantinos Hellcrest and Karl Stormfeather, and senior air officer Fritz Ebonbeak.

Grover eyed all the officers, before raising his claws to signal for them to sit. They quickly obeyed the order, taking their seats with the grace expected of a general staff. “Thank you all for your attendance.” Grover began, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. “The death of my regent is, in all but name, a transition of power within the Reich. A transition that the Reichswehr is, I can imagine, keen to keep as smooth as possible. The last transition of power, from my late-father to my late-regent, was a bloody affair. Oberstleutnant Ferdinand Dawnclaw and Duchess Eagleclaw both used the period to wreak havoc upon the Reich; this will not be repeated.”

“If I may, Kaiser.” Bronzetail began, Grover nodding in response. “I think it would be best to address our two key concerns head-on.” Apart from Proteus – clearly excluded from the collusion – the entire Generalstab nodded at the statement. “The first being the Archons, the second being your Prime Minister.”

Grover cupped his handed together and leant forward. “What about the Archons?” He asked them as a collective, keeping his eyes off Proteus.

Ebonwing offered an answer. “The late Regent was rather hands-on when dealing with military affairs, such resulting in disasters like Cloudbury.” I guess even field marshalls avoid blame. “The two remaining Archons…” Eyes steered towards Proteus, “liked their influence. We want reassurance it won’t continue.”

“I can assure you,” Grover maintained eye contact with Elias, “all of you that I take your concerns seriously. I am willing to work towards a more… independent Reichswehr.”

The silence the room fell into weighed heavy on Grover’s shoulder. It wasn’t uncomfortable to him – not that he would show it if it was – but it nevertheless wasn’t enjoyable. Elias soon broke the silence.

“Then let’s look at our operational independence.” He said calmly.

“For reasons you’ve implied already, I do require the appearance of control. The war minister needs at least an appearance of separation.” Grover maintained a regal tone.

Ebonwing spoke up instead, “We have already drawn up a selection of individuals we’d support in the office.” He reached into a briefcase beside him and brought out a small notebook, handing it towards Grover who took hold of it.

Anicetus Mudbeak, Dietrich Mach, Garold the Blue, Herman van Vorst tot Vorst, Grover read internally, a list of unspectacular officers that could hardly say no; to the job and to them. They will all be seen as what they are, a pathetic puppet.

“Van Vorst.” Grover said plainly, “I’ll make sure he’ll be appointed.”

“Very well.” Elias answered, “Onto your Prime Minister?”

Grover simply nodded in return; the room being beset by a short silence once against. This time, the silence made Grover more comfortable, a clear showcase that even an unproven child on the throne weighed heavily in their minds. Oh, how that will be so much better oh so soon.

The silence was eventually broken by Ebonwing. “Regardless of his pardon, the Grand Duke is a security risk to the Reich and the Reichswehr. That is not a choice of premier we are happy with.” While most of the room nodded, Grover eyed Thundertail and Stormfeather who did not.

“To be more formal, your Kaiser, the Generalstab cannot put our faith in your choice of Prime Minister.” Bronzetail corrected for his vice-chief.

“How confident are all of you in your Kaiser?” A simple question that thickened the tension in the room, once again bringing an eery silence over the room. Grover could feel the desire of all but Bronzetail to confirm with their peers what they think. “Speak freely, please.”

“We simply do not know, Your Majesty.” Elias eventually answered on their behalf, the tension disappearing nearly as soon as it appeared.

“Let’s clarify what we all know. I need you; you need me.” Grover crossed his claws on the table, “What further can I do to make sure we trust each other?”

“We need to know what Kaiser you intend to be,” Hellcrest answered sternly, earning unsaid appreciation from Grover.

“I am afraid that largely depends on how successful I am. But the broad strokes are I intend to modernise our realm, and to do that I must leave behind the nobility and clergy of old and embrace the modern martial spirit that truly defines our Reich.” Grover reconsidered, “To put beside the ideological jargon, I am putting my faith in you and the people to fuck over the hochadel and archons.”

Grover could see a smile form on Ebonwing and Hellcrest at the crudeness of his remark, Proteus on the overhand looked incredibly uncomfortable. I did just promise the most powerful griffons in the Reich to fuck him over.

“A truly militaristic Kaiser. Something our realm haven’t had since Grover II.” Hellcrest applauded.

Grover let out a short chuckle, “I will be no warrior-Kaiser. I shall parade as such, but the military shall be securely your domains.”

“As proven by War Minister von Vorst.” Elias spoke calmly, “We do need one more guarantee, however; the Grand Duke must have no influence over the Generalstab.”

“I can guarantee such.”

“Good. The Generalstab shall be your most loyal organ” I doubt most loyal, but it shall do.

With the agreement reached, the room returned to a calm silence. Grover reached down beside him, his movements catching the eyes of all in attendance. He slid eight files down the table, each officer reading through the paper.

Grover’s eyes focused on the portrait of Grover II, the last Kaiser to make any meaningful conquests. His Eternal Crusades into the Riverlands had become revered in Griffonian history, and it had crossed Grover’s mind to replicate it eastward or westward. But years of careful refinement had led Grover to one conclusion; it was a mistake. The mythification of Grover II hid his greatest mistake: unifying the Riverlands against the Reich. A mistake made of the same hubris that led Aquileia to rebel against Griffenheim at the start of Grover II’s reign.

“Operation Synovial was shelved… years ago, Your Majesty.” Elias broke the silence, “It was a very ambitious plan, befitting for a Changeling like the namesake.”

“Yet ambition may be what we need.” Ebonwing spoke up, Thundertail nodding in agreement.

“Using revolutionaries is rife for misfortunate,” Elias argued back.

“We missed our chance last time,” Hellcrest spoke up instead, “Myself and Stormfeather have been constrained by just Feathisian ports for too long. The revolutionaries would easily hand us ports for direct involvement on their side.”

Grover eyed the bickering officers, causing each to return to silence, “Ebonwing,” Grover said sternly, “I want you to draft up a new operation like Synovial. Ebonbeak.” The quiet Griffon looked attention, “How many of the new jets do we have available for a southern blitz?”

Ebonbeak seemed unprepared for the question, his yellow feathers frizzled as he attempted to concur an answer. Grover’s patience did little to calm him. “Um… five-hundred advance fighters, and two-hundred jets, would be available by the end of the month. If we wait another month, I could double the fighter count.” He quickly blurted out.

“Make it three-hundred jets. I don’t care for older variants; I need Equestria to see our military supremacy.”

“So, a political stunt first and foremost?” Externally, the question was polite, but it hid a much cruder intention. Elias did not like him.

“Securing our southern border from the Aquileian threat is our most important priority.” Grover corrected, “A showcase of our military prowess is simply a convenient consequence we can exploit.” He said with a smirk.

Elias didn’t seem settled with the answer, but the expression of the rest of their faces contrasted him. After a quick scan, Elias seemingly relented. Grover doubted that would be the last from him.

“As I mentioned earlier, at the very least the Kaiserliche Marine would need access to Aquileian ports. But that proposes further concerns.” Hellcrest said sternly while Grover nodded in response, “Equestria would, quite rightfully, do whatever it can to keep our fleets constrained to Feathisian ports; Karthinia too.”

Such concern hadn’t gone unconsidered by Grover. Keeping Equestria out of the war would require careful diplomacy, and more importantly, tugging those Equestrian heartstrings. As with any tool in international relations, holding the moral high ground came at a cost and benefit. While it justified Equestrian intervention at the first hint of immoral conduct, it also limited them when moral conduct was against their interests.

In this case, that moral conduct was ‘liberating’ Aquileia from their ‘tyrannical’ monarchy and placing the ‘rightful’ President Vérany back in power. Grover was certain with just a little bit of effort, he could prevent Equestria from acting against him in totality. But that didn’t mean they would stand by and allow Griffonian warships to dock in Aquileian ports. However, Princess Luna would helpfully be close to Grover in the upcoming weeks, prime for subtle lobbying.

“I have such considered. Equestria wouldn’t dare prevent the restoration of the government they still hold as legitimate, and I will soon be meeting with Princess Luna a lot. I’m certain I can work out a deal without crossing our redline.” Hellcrest and Stormfeather smiled at Grover’s response, clearly happy that they would be getting what they’d want.

“Meeting with an Equestrian Princess?” Ebonwing spoke up, “They still recognise the Republic!” He voiced in close to an outrage but maintained a professional tone.

“It’s an insult to us, but I am not weak enough to be scared by such insults.” Grover answered, gaining little response from the staff, “You’ll see at my coronation exactly what I intend.”

“I think it would be best for us to hear now.” Ebonwing’s let of a sliver of bitterness.

Grover tensed for a moment. Much like the Changelings in the Great War over on Equus, Grover intended to blitz past these early roadblocks and use clear success to sway agitated voices. Given he had neither moved an inch nor met any success, that plan was stifled.

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. I am taking inspiration from Chrysalis after all. She barely got past Whinnyapolis before their war fell apart. Now the so-called Immortal Queen is dead, presumably in some ditch where her tower once stood.

“My coronation will contain two key details that are vital to my plans to marginalise the voices that have led our Reich astray.” While none in the room looked towards Proteus, Grover could feel many wanted to, “The first is that I have requested Princess Luna’s aid to construct an Equality Bill; aimed at being for discussions with Vérany and ending our war with the Vartai Liberation Army.”

To Grover’s relief, none in the room seemed displeased with either announcement. The Reichswehr may have been home to nationalistic voices, but it was also home to pragmatic voices. The latter seemed to trump the former today.

“The second,” Grover began, planting his claws on the table before him, “is my intention to crown myself.”

Grover barely finished as Proteus shot up, “That is…” The Archon began, before settling himself and sitting back down, “That is, Your Majesty, a stark departure from tradition. It would…” Proteus trailed off, allowing Ebonbeak to speak.

“A departure from tradition would be much appreciated. Too long the Hochadel and Rat der Drei have experienced undue power compared to the Reichsarmee and Marine. A Kaiser finally exerting their power like Grover the Great would be a glory to see!”

“And the Reichsarmee shall be the tip of my spear.” Grover hid a smile that dared to form on his beak.

For a third time, the room fell into silence, none having words to speak. The silence was almost eery, but such suited Grover. It gave him time to calm his nerves and frustrations. But alas, it did not feel like enough time; he doubted any amount would be enough.

“Unless you have any further concerns,” Grover said, “I feel this meeting is adjourned.”

“I believe all has been addressed, Your Majesty,” Elias answered for all.

“Then go and bring glory unto our Reich. Make her glorious once more.” With those words of encouragement, all but Proetus rose from their seats and saluted, practically smashing their talons onto their heads. With a nod of the Kaiser’s head, they were permitted to leave, and all did in an orderly fashion. All but the Archon, who remained seated.

A few moments after the Ebonbeak left the Kaiser and Archon alone, Grover spoke, “I know the death of Eros must be hard on you, Konrad.”

The room remained silent, Proteus III - or Konrad Krukenburg – matched his left and right talons together on the table, while Grover simply leaned back into his chair. It remained that way for a little while.

“Why did you invite me?” Konrad asked plainly.

“You head the Knightly Chapters, that is-”

“Without the jargon.” He leaned forward as he asked.

Grover matched Konrad’s bluntness, “Erion.”

“What is he planning?”

“To get an ally as Eros’ replacement. Exactly what you should be doing.” Grover moved his arm down beside him, picking up a piece of paper and placing it onto the desk, sliding it towards Konrad.

“And what is this?” He asked with clear suspicion.

Grover turned his head slightly, gazing upon the portrait of Grover the Great as an excuse to hide a smirk on his beak, “Eros’ will. And exactly who he wants as the next Archon.”

Chapter IV: Will of the Regent

Grover woke to a loud banging on his door. An occurrence that, in the last few years, he had become relatively accustomed to. As accustomed as one could to interruptions during the night. It was after Eros’ third stroke that the bureaucratic machine of the Reich began to panic about succession. After all, the last transition of power did not go well. To Grover, however, it was a nice occasion; the only times he could act as a true Kaiser.

Unlike his father, Eros’ ill health was not a surprise, or Grover hoped it was not. As one of the few centenarians on the continent, the regent was only months away from seeing the reign of Grover III. However, that says more about the poor genetics of the Grover dynasty than it did about Eros’. It was as if Maar had cursed the dynasty to a slow death, just another challenge Grover was condemned to face.

Grover lifted the covers off him and moved towards his wardrobe in tired strides. “Enter.” He yelled in a tired voice as he picked out his usual purple regalia. Benito brashly entered the room, seeming more disturbed than even the first time Eros suffered from a stroke.

“Your Majesty, your Regent is…” Benito took a breath, though Grover did not need him to finish his sentence. He simply raised a claw to quiet him, and continued to dawn his regalia, pinning the imperial seal onto the red sash as always.

“So, he's passed,” Grover said tonelessly. Benito gave a calmer nod in the corner of his eye. Too soon, he thought to himself, I needed more time. “Benito, who knows of his passing?”

“Only the relevant security details, as you instructed. Kircheis and Kesler are stationed outside his room,” His answer was met by a smile from the Kaiser as he walked towards his desk.

“Perfect. Suppress news of this until the afternoon.”

“And what will you do, my Kaiser?”

“Skipping breakfast, that’s for sure.” Grover chuckled to himself and retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, “Just keep to your job. Make sure no one knows until we’re ready.” His ruthless undertones stiffened Benito to attention.

The walk to his regent’s room was relatively swift, and soon enough he saw the red griffon and white dog stationed outside. The two remained motionless as Grover approached.

“Kircheis. Kesler.” Grover greeted the griffon and dog respectively.

“Your Imperial Majesty.” They replied in calm synchronisation.

Both Barkginian guards moved aside, letting Grover’s claw rest on the doorknob. He paused for a moment before slowly opening the door and walking inside. Once he shut the door behind, the room was cold and quiet. The small fire opposite his regent’s bed did little to offset the eery stillness of his late regent’s body.

“Pity that,” Grover murmured to himself as he walked past the bed. His eyes moved quickly to the desk at the end of the room. He paced behind the desk and brashly pulled at the bottom-left drawer, but to no avail. The guards outside definitely heard the struggle, but as loyal as ever made no move to enter.

Grover tugged a second time to the same results. The Kaiser sighed and walked over to Eros’ bedside desk, brashly opening its drawers and finding a small stash of keys. Grasping the smallest one in his talons, he returned to the drawer and opened it. Just a single item called the drawer home: The Will of The Archon of Boreas.

Taking it in his talons, Grover walked to the fireplace and read the will as he did. There shall be no second regent, The personal reign of Kaiser Grover VI shall not be undermined, My private estates shall be gifted to Grover von Greifenstein, My private wealth shall be dispersed among the commonfolk. “How lovely of you,” He traced a claw along the final paragraph of the page.

I make no nomination for my successor as Archon of Boreas. There shall be no interference when the electoral college is formed to appoint the next Archon of Boreas.

“But we can’t be having this. Now, can we?” Grover smiled.

He traced a talon under the clause again, applying more and more pressure. For a moment Grover paused and kept his talon still, staring intensely at the will. Rereading its contents once, then twice, then thrice. Grover breathed in and closed his eyes before reapplying pressure onto the will, finally piercing the paper. Once he reached the end of the paper, Grover let the will float into the crackling flames. The paper turned brown, then black, then disappeared altogether. The only evidence of its existence was the waft of smoke now hitting Grover’s noise.

“It's a tragedy your final desires must be erased from history.”

Grover’s eyes focused intensely on the crackling flames. His smile slowly faded, and his head subtly tilted. The subtle heat of the flames traced its way across Grover’s body in a poor imitation of Celestia’s sun. He eventually escaped his trance and returned to the desk and softly placed the paper from his quarters in place of the Archon's will.

“You made quite a few foolish mistakes, Eros.” Grover softly shook his head, “Thinking you had earned the loyalty of those dogs yourself was just stupid. I appreciate handing the reigns once you kicked it, but you,” Grover growled and grabbed his regent’s face, “lost any rights Boreas squawked in your ears.”

Grover let go of his regent and blankly stared at his face. Grover let out a deep sigh as he took a step back, his eyes laying on the top of the bedside table. Grover smiled at a medallion and half-empty glass of water that sat atop. “Better empty that,” Grover said joyfully as he grabbed the glass, taking it to a lavish ensuite to be rinsed and placed back.

Before leaving, he grabbed the medallion and placed it around Eros’ neck. “I’ll give you at least this, Eros. At least you failed for me of all things.” Grover let the medallion settle between his claws, his eyes focused on the intricate details. When he moved to leave the room, Grover gave one last look at Eros, muttering “Sleep well with your Boreas, for Celestia-forgive the future is no brighter without you,” as he placed a claw on the doorknob.

“Kircheis.” The griffon turned his head as Grover stepped out the room and nodded in acknowledgement, “Have the train for De Vleugels ready.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The guard replied with a calm smile, following his Kaiser as they both walked down the corridor.

Chapter V: I Say Damn It

An older griffon swung back on his chair, his lime feathers drooping down like the white and gold cap he wore. The younger griffon opposite him leant forward in her chair, grasping hold of the beverage the older man ordered for her. Her light-grey feathers stuck up as she looked into the eyes of the older griffon.

The two found themselves in a small bar in central Griffenheim, just a thirty-second stroll from the Square. Rumour said Alexander Kemerskai planned the Palace March in this very bar. According to the stories told to younger griffon, in this very corner of the bar.

“Doesn’t say ‘monarchist’ to be wearing a cap just like Kemerskai’s, ya know?” The younger griffon said with a subtle smile.

“Kemerskai used to admire Grover IV, ya know,” He completed sarcastically, “perhaps I’ll admire his grandson. Perhaps the Volksfront will turn to the Republicans again.”

“Last time you guys were actually a legal organisation. Not so much now.”

The older griffon laughed at the statement, “Legal or not, the Volksfront is still here. The old regent couldn't exactly do much to hammer us out.”

“So, van Cleef.” She began, “Willing to answer a few questions?”

The older griffon shook his head with a soft smile, “You’re not as subtle as you may think you are, Carina Harker. The Chronicle’s rising star, I hear.” The younger griffon offered a soft smile in return.

“Got me!” She jested, raising her hands up to mimic surrender.

“I will praise your writings. It's good, and not just in comparison to the rest of the Chronicle’s dribble. But I’m not going to oust myself to the most pro-establishment paper out there, no matter how well you write.”

“Ah, you don’t play fun.” Carina pouted, “You gotta have something. Some secretive march, some underground connection with Equestria or the Federation, something!”

Edwin tutted, “I’m just a griff of relative notoriety, and today certainly not the griff of notoriety you want to be casing.”

“Oh, this is part of chasing him. It's not exactly a secret that students are getting uneasy. We all know it’s the republicans, the Kaiser knows it’s the republicans, but we are wondering if it doesn’t go that ever bit further?”

His eyes squinted at the accusation before he relaxed and brought a claw up to the journalist, “You can all just wait to find out.” The front legs of his chair swung back to the ground with an audible thump, “If you want a quote, quote the Volksfront: we’ll stand with the people, whether or not the Kaiser does.”

Carina smiled at the concessions, “Thank you, Mr. Volksfront. Such a shame I never got your name.” She gulped down half of her beverage and stood up, heading for the door, “I do hope we’ll see each other again. It's been fun.”

“I hope not,” Edwin said under his breath, taking a drink from his own beverage.

The streets of central Griffenheim were grand and clean this day. The effort across the last few days to clean up the city was almost comedic to Edwin. It contrasted the apathy that dominated the last decade. Funnily enough, it was the first sign to Edwin that Eros VII had died, though the – now confirmed correct – implication of a rushed coronation surprised him.

While he wasn’t surprised that Grover VI chose to rule personally, that was the only predictable thing. The choice of premier threatened to give Edwin the one thing he dreaded the most: hope. Hope that whatever the Kaiser planned, it could involve the Volksfront rather than fight it.

The cleanliness of the streets disappeared as Edwin walked further into the urban jungle that was the imperial capital. The almost fantastical architecture of the central city gave rise to the brutalist designs of the poorer districts; the infamous ‘central slum’ among them. The slum was less than a mile from the imperial palace, and its existence had been a great shame for the imperial government. Despite all of Eros’ rhetoric, he made little improvements despite attempts every now and again.

Despite the name, it wasn’t a true slum. The buildings were sturdy, and the basic necessities of a once great power were provided for. Compared to the slums he had seen from the Evi Valley to Kiria, these were a paradise. Nevertheless, the district earned its name for a reason. Be it the Republic up north, the River Federation to the east, or Equestria far to the west, how they housed their most unfortunate was leaps and bounds better than what Griffenheim did. How Griffenheim could. The very idea of true social housing was near a utopia here.

“All is relative, I suppose,” Edwin muttered to himself as he walked down a darkened alley, eventually turning into a small pub positioned at the end. Despite its location, Edwin found the pub a rather quaint meeting place for his Volksfront. While the club could never risk a permanent home, having a common couple did well for morale.

The familiarity of the place calmed Edwin as he made his past a ‘staff-only’ sign and up a depreciated flight of stairs; he swore they could collapse at any moment, but he kept his strides confident. Once at the top, he could make out a soft conversation coming from their usual meeting room, “Guess I’m the late one today.” The familiarity Edwin felt was sharply jolted as he heard an unfamiliar voice from the room. But as unfamiliar as the voice, something about it seemed recognisable. He walked cautiously towards the door.

“And you’re Geogina Schüler, right? Had to work with many young harmonists like yourself.” The voice said.

“I’m guessing this arrogance of yours turned them away.” This softer voice calmed Edwin, and he grasped the knob with his claws, his doubts partially adjured. If Georgina was talking to them, it should be fine.

“Must be Edwin.” A third, must finer, voice said.

River Breeze as well? Edwin thought to himself as he pushed the door open, “You would be right.”

Once the doorway was clear enough to walk through, Edwin scoured the room. First at the blue-grey pony he had just referenced, sitting nearest to the window. Then to the light-purple griffon that was sat closet to the door, but facing away. And then to the final griffon in the room.

“Vérany?” Edwin puzzled towards the grey griffon, who unceremoniously sat on top of the room’s table on top of a map displaying the square, palace, and avenue that connected them.

“In the flesh!” He clicked his tongue. “And I’m sure you too are curious about why the exiled-President of Aquileia is in Griffenheim on this very day.” Edwin slowly nodded, placing his claws on the back of the nearest available chair.

“Now Edwin is here, do we get an answer?” River asked.

Vérany nodded, “Either the Kaiser or Grand Duke contacted you yet?”

Edwin squinted his eyes. Such information shouldn’t be revealed to someone outside of the Volksfront so liberally, but this wasn’t just anyone. This was the griffon that sat beside Kemerskai as the face of republicanism and liberty itself. The griffons that Edwin fought to live up to their legacy. He must have a reason to be here; in Griffenheim and in this room.

“The duke.” Edwin answered, “I don’t trust it.”

“As did I initially.” Vérany lifted himself off the table and walked towards Edwin, “I also hear a certain Princess Luna has not only arrived in Griffenheim but is also intending to meet with your Volksfront.”

“And how do you know that?” A smile formed on Vérany’s face as he was asked.

“Oh, she gave me a call to inform you.” Vérany softly smiled, “I was genuinely surprised that I was the closest contact she had.”

Edwin shook his head in response, “We’re a political club Théodore, not a militia.”

“Even though that hat implies otherwise, I know. Just didn’t realise how safe you played it.” Vérany paused and cocked his head at Edwin, who had lifted a claw to his hat and titled it down, “Unlike some of my colleagues, I like that. Maar, I’m jealous you can afford to be.”

“I don’t know how much longer we can. We’re holding out hope the young Kaiser will be like his grandfather.”

“Don’t hope, see for yourself. I will be.”

Edwin let the offer settle. He thought about disregarding it. While Gerlach had permitted the Liberal Party in Feathisia, Edwin couldn’t be so sure the new Kaiser would allow for such to repeat. Gerlach being granted such power after the Regency War was a miracle on its own, and Edwin wasn’t willing to hope for another miracle.

However, Vérany shifted the equation. If the Kaiser had invited the exiled-President, it was likely his eyes laid south. That left Gerlach to home affairs, meaning the Volksfront may just have a place. It was still a risk, but maybe that’s what the Volksfront needed. Edwin shook his head, causing Vérany to mount a thrown on his face. Realising his thought process was externalised, Edwin began to pace. Vérany got the message.

“You said you can call Luna?” Edwin asked, receiving a curious nod from Vérany. “Do that again.”

Edwin strode onto Griffenheim Square from a small alleyway, the sparely occupied square being overtaken by crowds. Heavy conversation dominated the square, mostly in Herzlander but northern, Aquileian, and even Ponish languages could be heard. After all, it was a city once at the heart of the continent, much like Canterlot remains.

He brushed passed a small group swaying the blue-on-yellow cross of Feathisia, a chant in support of their duke being sung. Not far away, Edwin heard the same for countless other fiefdoms of the empire, even those that remain outside its claws like Cloudburry.

Orange-and-yellow cockades dominated the crowd as he approached the grand bleachers where the Kaiser was. Never mind what hope he held out for the young Kaiser, Edwin couldn't help but feel a sense of comradery wash over him at the sight.

Especially today. It wasn’t hard to see sniper teams positioned on the roofs surrounding the square and he had earlier seen panzers lining the main avenue going into the square. Edwin’s chest tightened at the thought, and he was unlikely to be the only one. The massacre four decades ago was a horror story he lived through only as a child, but it was Eros’ purges he truly remembered. The so-called ‘White Terror’ killed tens of thousands. Many Edwin knew. Many he didn’t. Who was to say Grover VI wouldn’t repeat it?

Right here: cameras. Despite the bravado of the Reichsarmee, the Kaiser seemed obsessed with this event being filmed for the entire world. As often as Edwin saw a fiefdom’s flag or republican cockade, he saw a camera crew positioned to film the Kaiser; presumably when he made some emboldened speech at the centre of the square. It might have even been a subtle way for the Kaiser to ease the crowd’s fears as all knew he wouldn’t dare slaughter a crowd for the world to see. Not even the cruellest tyrants were so brazen, at least when they remained sane.

Edwin felt the tension as he pushed through the crowd. Uncertainty radiated from the crowd. The collective yearning for answers trickled down his spine. Even as he made his way to the front of the crowd, just below a set of grand bleachers, he still felt their weight. Even the comforting hoof of River Breeze on his shoulder did little in the moment.

Many of the faces above him were recognisable. As Vérany said, Princess Luna was in attendance and expectedly he could see the Prime Minister. The Queen of Aquileia and Chancellor of the River Federation both made themselves central, with countless other global figures present. Even that report – Carina Harker - was present off to the side. None seemed as out of place, while simultaneously never more at home, than Théodore Vérany. He couldn’t hear a single word from him, but it was clearer from Princess Luna’s relaxation that this wasn’t the first casual discourse; soft chuckles cemented that.

It was soon after that a young griffon placed his weight against the intricate white lectern and raised his head towards the midday sun. Despite the ceremonious imperial regalia the griffon dawned, he looked out of place. From just this short glance, the young griffon imbued more innocence than imperial authority.

“He is just a child,” Edwin murmured, gaining the momentary attention of both River and Georgina beside him.

With one claw the griffon laid paper onto lectern, and with the other grasped the microphone with one claw while the other fiddled with his glasses before he brought it down. Any who had missed the Kaiser’s entrance were suddenly made aware by a sharp ringing. A scoff from the Aquileian Queen and a grin from Vérany caught Edwin's eyes. Whether that was intended for the Kaiser or Queen he did not know.

“My griffons!” The Kaiser began, “Today is a day twelve years in the waiting. A day where I can finally be the Kaiser I was born to be, address the griffons I was told I was destined to rule over, and finally act upon the divine duty bestowed upon me. I wish that I was here to celebrate today’s occasion, celebrate the glory of our Reich and the accomplishment my regent and my ancestors brought us.”

Curious murmurs rang through the crowd as Grover VI allowed a momentary pause,” But I am not.” He declared with authority that seemed alien to the monarch’s small frame, “Not because my regent has passed on, not because the weight of Boreas’ will has finally landed upon my shoulders, but because what I inherited cannot be celebrated. It was upon this very square that the first blood of the Revolution was shed, blood that turned protestors into revolutionaries. Their simple desires of ‘liberty, equality, and fraternity’ were met with violence, and plunged our Reich into chaos.”

From the uproar, it was clear that his statement struck with the crowd, simply not in the way he probably intended. Of all the things he took the Kaiser for, it was not a fool. Even Grover V knew what was going on even if he was not competent enough to do much about it. As Grover continued his speech over the crowd, it was clear Grover VI did as well.

“Four decades later, that pain stays with you all. And now I am the Kaiser in more than just inheritance, that pain is justly aimed towards me. It's for that reason that, at this very square, I want to apologise.”

While the uproar did not completely die, it certainly settled. An apology, huh? Edwin thought to himself.

“I am sorry for the pain my dynasty has caused you.” The Kaiser paced his words slowly, “I am sorry that you shall never have the satisfaction of vengeance. I am sorry for decades of suffering. There are no words in any lexicon that could justify the last four decades, and there is no argument that changes the truth. The Trinity abandoned this dynasty for its crimes, made clear by the loss of the Idol, and now I inherit a dying dynasty. One fate wants to kill once and for all.” The Kaiser’s words began to ring with a subtle bitterness beneath his regality.

“But we all know the imperial dynasty will not die quietly. We all know that a pen will never be enough to end your suffering. I see that fate, and I think all of you do too.

“And I say damn it to the fates! I say damn it to the blood!” The Kaiser practically yelled and pushed more of his weight into the railings, “Who would we be, as a people, as Reich, and who would I be as the Kaiser bestowed this divine duty to allow such a dreadful fate to befall our great Griffonia? Who would I be as the Kaiser to ignore your cries and pleas until they were at my very neck? A failure who would deserve the rope around my neck, that is who! I reject that ignorance. I chose to embrace something new. Something… harmonic.”

The Kaiser visibly relaxed his claws that had come to tightly grasp the railings. His brief break allowed the crowd to take in the rawness of his words, and it seemed it had overshined every other emotion. The uncertainty Edwin felt across the crowd before was now replaced with interest, with curiosity, with dare he say hope. He let out a soft chuckle that caught River Breeze’s attention before the Kaiser began his speech, in a much calmer and approachable tone.

“Today, I wish to begin a journey into modernity. A modernity that shall once again bring deserved glory to our martial spirit. A journey we will embark not as a Kaiser and their country, but as a country and their Kaiser.” Edwin could swear the Kaiser was hiding a grin forming, “It is a journey we may have to take alone, but it is a journey recently treaded. By those brave enough in Equestria, Aris, and Kiria alike to find harmony where my ancestors have spilt blood. To wield the pen where my ancestors wielded the sword.

“But my words only go so far. I know that. And that is why I have acted. I have appointed the Grand Duke of Feathisia, Gerlach the Silent, as my Prime Minister so that the glory he brought Feathisia may be brought across Griffonia. With him by my side and a Reichsarmee loyal to the cause, I promise that no longer shall the Reich and its commons be the property of the Kaiser, but the Reich and its Kaiser shall be the property of the commons!

“And the commons shall be for all. No longer shall we waste precious recourses on Boreas-forsaken fantasies of an accursed slaughter of ponies. No wasteful cultural struggle against those with irrelevant differences. It shall be a country that forgoes such petty distractions, and marches strong towards the glories Grover the Great intended of our great nation.

“This part of the journey will not be embarked alone. For one of the bravest souls in Equestria has accepted my imperial request to stand beside me today, and to fight beside us as we embark on our journey. May I present the architect of Equestria’s fourth tribe, Her Royal Majesty Princess of the Night Luna!”

The sombre atmosphere was suddenly replaced by cheers, which could be heard no louder than from the minority of ponies in the crowd. But they were not alone, and it seemed all in the square were united in cheering on the Equestrian princess, far more they ever did the Kaiser himself.

Carina was surprised at how close she and other reporters were to Grover. So close that she could practically feel the tension between the Aquileian Queen Vivienne and the exiled-President Vérany. She had to hold back a giggle just watching them. The Kaiser helped immensely in that.

Grover had surprised Carina for as long as she knew him. His wit, his ‘unconditional support’ for her career, his utter boldness. Today was just another surprise, and she fully expected more to come.

“Go on.” She heard Grover direct at Luna. “Help me help them.” He held his claw out, though Luna softly swatted it away and walked past him. The pair paused beside each other, a soft smile forming on the Kaiser’s face as the Princess continued past and grasped the microphone with her right hoof. She looked down at the lectern and let out a small smile, then looked up once more.

“Greetings, citizens of Griffenheim and of the Reich.” Her Herzlander was refined, any anxiety present would be hidden, “The Kaiser came to me, just a few days ago, requesting my assistance. Twelve years ago, I embarked on a protracted campaign, and still do, abolish the deep-seated prejudices that have for eons afflicted the Thestrals, my batponies, within the realm of Equestria.”

Despite the unsettling implications for the Kaise, Carina cracked a smile as groupings of ponies cheered loudly for their Princess. Cheers from republicans and harmonists alike were not far behind.

“It has yielded great triumphs that have only been matched with the trials and tribulations it has demanded for me to overcome. In collaboration with your Kaiser and Prime Minister.”

Grover is probably mad she didn’t style it as ‘his’ Prime Minister, Carina chuckled to herself,

“I am assured that the lives of all commongriff and pony shall be elevated to unprecedented heights of well-being. It is as a Princess of Equestria that I make the vow that the principles of harmony shall henceforth guide Griffonia forward into modernity.”

Luna wore a soft smile as she stepped back from the microphone, the same type you would wear after crunching an article last minute. The speech was admirable, but her circumstances were clear. Grover probably likes how clear it is.

The smile was short-lived, Luna dropping it as soon as Grover stood beside her once more. There might has been nothing else that indicated what she felt, but that dopped smile told Carina everything she could have wanted.

It will make for a good article. If Grover doesn’t tell me off.

As Luna made her statement, Vérany’s eyes drifted to the Kaiser behind her. His figure had clearly relaxed, his eyes focused on the Princess ahead of him. As she walked back and the Kaiser forward, the two momentarily paused next to each other, the former muttering something incomprehensible to Vérany before making her way back to her seats.

“I thank Her Royal Majesty for her presence.” The Kaiser began, his claws planted on either side of the lectern, “And I graciously thank her generosity. My work with the Princess shall be just the start of our journey into modernity, and what the journey will entail will be revealed in due course.” The Kaiser looked at Gerlach with a sense of… glee that had formed on his beak. Vérany could relate with that.

“But rest assured, my griffons, that this journey shall not be the musings of a Kaiser in his palace, behind the claws of nobility and panzers alike, but a collaboration between the populace of whom I rule for, and the Kaiser who rules for their populace,” Grover paused and looked out towards the crowd, “It is together, not separated and certainly not against each other, that the glory of modernity shall brace each and every one of you in Griffonia. It is my promise that, together, we shall bring the glory upon our Reich that Grover the Great intended. Glory to our Griffonia! Glory to our Reich!”

Interesting speech, Vérany said internally, perhaps one day you’ll repeat it without the panzers.

Vérany diverted his eyes from the Kaiser and onto the crowd. For the most part, the crowd had joined in with the chant. “Glory to our Griffonia! Glory to our Reich!” continued to ring, but it felt off. This was not the reaction of a crowd enthusiastic with his speech, not like the many Vérany had given, but something a lot more cautious. He couldn’t come to say it was force. While it was infinitely better than the speeches of King Moriset that he heard after his first revolution came crumbling down, it refused to settle in Vérany’s mind

Beside him, both Queen Vivienne and Luna stared at the Kaiser with daggers. He could guess his presence exacerbated the former’s tension. And whether that motivated the Queen or not, she stood up and approached the child Kaiser.

“Wonderful speech.” Sarcasm dripped from the Queen’s statement; any polite interpretation shattered

“Thank you.” The Kaiser’s reply was polite, however, and his body remained calm. The impact on the Queen was clear, as her wings twitched ever so slightly. That brought a smile to Vérany’s face.

“They are going to rip you to shreds, you know?”

It was a statement much more than it was a question, and one Vérany was not surprised at all to hear. The Queen was infamous for treading those she considered below her, even if Vérany had to admit she often had the talent to back it up. Grover VI was one the wannabe-empress saw as below her, merely a pawn in the machinations of the Griffonian Reich. Vérany, however, wasn’t so quick to dismiss the young monarch. He was about to prove just why.

Grover extended a claw out to Vivienne as if he was securing a cordial agreement, “Literally.” he said tonelessly, the initial confusion on the Queen’s face threatened to extend the smile on Vérany’s face, “But what’s the point in a game with no risk?” Grover matched Vérany with his own smirk, while Vivienne looked back in continued dismissal.

“A view befitting a child, Your Imperial Majesty.” She scoffed back. “It will be a shame to see this entire continent come crashing down on you.” The Queen placed a condescending claw on Grover’s shoulder. The Kaiser showed no discomfort whatsoever.

“Don’t forget Equus as well.” Vivienne scowled. “It will be interesting to see which flag Griffenheim hosts by the time I’m ‘matured’.”

Looking past Grover, Vivienne looked out to the crowd. Flags of various the various fiefdoms and a few more imperial banners flew below, “I doubt you will get to see it.”

“I’ll keep you alive to eat those words.” In contrast to his prior clam wit, Grover’s tone suddenly adopted sharp aggression alongside his snarky personality.

Vivienne let out a soft laugh. “Perhaps I’ll have a place for you, young Kaiser.” She walked away with her chin raised up. Grover began to head towards his Prime Minister, who had long retreated towards the corridor freed for his imperial exit. Before either could leave, Vérany walked up to the pair

“Do you still have a place for me, your majesty?” Grover turned back to the exiled-President, as did the Aquileian Queen.

“Théodore Vérany.” She coarsely growled, which caused Grover to let out a subtle smirk the Queen seemed to miss.

“In the flesh!” Vérany released his arms to mimic a grand gesture. “Your thanks for the invitation.” The Kaiser returned a rather joyous nod, further irritating Vivienne who continued her march away from the conversation.

“I appreciate your trust in making your way here. Even if it did involve some rather un-regal begging.” Vérany was quick to shake the Kaiser’s claws.

Vérany let out a soft laugh, “She had some rather… choice words to describe you?”

“Choice words?” Grover questioned, rather rightfully.

“Well,” Vérany cocked his head, “I think she wanted to use some anyway. ‘Irritating’ was as far as she went.”

“Irritating.” Grover chuckled, “Sounds like she finds me endearing.”

“It sounds like you made some sort of impression.” He replied with a façade of confidence. Vérany kept his doubts hidden; while the young Kaiser seemed… well young he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was the speech just a result of childish naivety, or was it part of a larger strategy? Gerlach’s appointment and the exclusion of key figures like Eagleclaw and Erion seemingly implied the latter, but Vérany knew better than to rush head-first into something. Mostly due to two failed Republics, but he still knew, nevertheless.

The Kaiser placed a claw on Vérany’s shoulder and whispered into his ear, “After I crown myself, make your way to Kaiser’s College. You’ll be expected.”

He just read me like a book, Vérany thought while hiding a smirk, “Interesting.”

Grover walked off and was joined by his Prime Minister, leaving the bleachers for a prepped corridor and motorcade. Vérany himself shuffled along with the other guests of owners, all headed for Griffenheim Abbey.

The breeze blew on Benito’s neck, the chill seemingly from the Abbey’s open door. The guard stood dutifully as he awaited his Kaiser, his motorcade visible a few hundred feet down the avenue. A small weight lifted from his shoulder at the sight, relieves that ushering in guests from needy journalists to Aquileian monarchs was over.

Once the motorcade crossed an arbitrary line, Benito sharply turned, flanked by a half-dozen guards, and entered the packed Abbey. Below the memorising grand arches, the hall was lined with countless guests, ranging from the ‘guests of honours’ at the far end towards the chapel, to loyal civil servants, officials, and whoever else was deemed important enough for this occasion to occur before their eyes.

Benito’s entrance caused murmurs almost instantly. Their unique military regalia quickly dispelled any mistaken identity as Knights of Arcturius or forces of a coup. Only the Barkginian Guad, the ‘Dogs of the Kaiser, would adorn striking green attire padded with ornamental plate armour.

The long strides of the Guard make their journey swift, Bento’s gaze soon met that of both remaining archons. The two archons were spaced on either side of the pedestal that housed the Abbey’s red and gold throne. Erion’s eyes squinted at Benito, but he gave him no reciprocation. He gazed his eyes towards the imperial crown, housed on a purple cushion upon a small table between the throne and the entrance. Benito knew how much the Kaiser had prepared for this day, and now he was here to make it a reality.

With his guards relaxed beside him, Benito made his way towards the crown only to be swatted away by Erion, “And what do you think you are doing?”

“What the Kaiser has ordered of the Barkginian Guard does not concern you. We act only at the beckon of Boreas’ chosen.” Benito replied calmly, finishing his stride next to the crown. “We shall await our Kaiser, and we shall submit to him. As is our duty per Boreas’ wisdom.”

The Archon muttered something under his breath, but nevertheless allowed Benito and his guards to take control over the table. Without further protest, Benito slowly picked up the imperial crown. The golden crown glistened from the sunlight glancing it, the scarlet Reichstone that adorned the crown was just as impressive as it was the last coronation Benito saw. It shone brighter than any of the lesser variants Kaiser had worn until now.

Benito placed his paws below the plump cushion, and gently lifted it. He took each step with purpose, with absolute care that nothing would go wrong. Once he arrived at the foot of the throne, he carefully placed the cushion and the crown that called it home upon the throne. He took a step back to ensure his work match the glory of the Kaiser.

Deciding his work was satisfactory, Benito looked at the archons behind him. Eros’ daggered eyes sent Benito’s fur standing on edge, but he refused to relent. He walked back to the archons and stood to attention next to them, and awaited the Kaiser’s arrival. That wait was uneasy, neither three nor their respective underlying seemed content with being beside each other, but none dared express such, dare invoke the wrath of the gods or Kaiser.

Soon enough, their wait was rewarded, and the Kaiser entered the abbey. Unlike at his speech, the Kaiser had now adorned a striking purple cape, his shoulder draped in white fur atop his epaulettes, which were presumably removed. None could deny that the Kaiser looked authoritative Looked like he could demand the unconditional loyalty of any in the Abbey as he had done his Barkginian Guard.

Silence fell upon the Abbey, the only sound being the steps of the Kaiser and the more modestly dressed Prime Minister alongside him. This silence continued as the pair made their way down the Abbey, their slow steps being traced by the crowd. Their path seemed unobstructed until the Kaiser sharply stopped shortly before the chapel.

Just as sharply as he stopped, the Kaiser pivoted left and held out his claws to a member of the crowd; Elias Bronzetail. He responded with the precision of a rehearsed action; a freshly unsheathed sabre being gently placed upon the Kaiser’s claws.

The Kaiser rested the sabre in his right claw while he gently traced its length with his left claw, before he attached the bare sabre to a small hoop on his waist. As if he had never stopped, the Kaiser continued his walk towards the throne and passed Benito with a subtle smile. The guard simply nodded in return.

The Kaiser paused just a foot away from the throne, his head tilting down to look at the golden crown that sat upon it. Lifting his right claw to the sabre hooked at his waist, the Kaiser turned around dramatically and swept his cape in the process.

“My griffons!” The Kaiser exclaimed, his sabre raised towards the crowd, “It has not been since Grover the Great has a Kaiser placed this crown upon their head. It has been four Grovers too long.”

Most of the crowd resisted muttering in response, but Benito head a few weak souls that let their shock and curiosity disrespect the Kaiser. As much as he wished to express his disdain, the dog resisted shaking his head not wanting to disrespect the Kaiser in turn,

He returned his eyes to the Kaiser as he hooked the sabre back to his waist and made his final pace towards the throne. The Kaiser allowed for one final moment of hesitation and extended a claw towards the throne. He let out a whisper of “Celestia.” too quiet for any but Benito to hear. With his resolve returned, the Kaiser harshly grabbed the crown with both hands and lifted it upon his head.

To Benito, it seemed as if the world had stopped. His eyes could not divert from the divine sight. After twelve years, the Kaiser had ffulfilled his father’s final wish. Benito felt a sense of completeness wash over him.

“Under the watchful eyes of the divines,” Benito was brought back by the Kaiser’s regal voice. The Kaiser looked towards a large, stained window expressing the coronation of Grover the Great, but traced his eyes along the sunlight shining through it, “A new Kaiser has been crowned! Hail to thee, Kaiser Grover von Greifenstein, Sixth of His Name!”

With his declaration, the crowd erupted into chants of “Hail to thee, Kaiser,” that overshadowed the anthem being played in the background. After years of waiting, after years of watching the young Kaiser’s impatient manoeuvring, the moment had finally come. He would follow in the footsteps of Grover the Great like no other Kaiser had done. He would live up to the legacy his father had always wanted him to.

“Hail to thee, Kaiser.” Benito chanted under his breath, letting a small smile finally escape his stoicism.