Bruno sat in the Kaiser's palace, a cup of tea in his hands. For today's occasion he had dusted off the old Reichsmarschall uniform. Not because he had come out of retirement and taken up the sword once more on behalf of the Reich.
But because it acted as his royal regalia. Every medal and honor that was officially recognized by the Reich as valid to be worn within formal military uniforms was emblazoned spectacularly across his visage.
He looked like a man from another century. A century where kings and emperors ruled man. Not technocrats, bureaucrats, and politicians.
By his will and hand alone fate had kneeled in submission, and that era continued into the modern age. After half a century of warfare, Bruno sat calmly, Kaiser Wilhelm II seated in front of him.
The two men shared tea and didn't say a word. Not at first, that is until finally Wilhelm spoke.
