Chapter 120: Deer Hunter
Dusk crept slowly across the woods, and with the sun sinking toward the horizon, the sound of chopping gradually faded into silence.
The forest was now littered with freshly cut timber. Stumps covered the ground in every direction, round and green at their edges, like lotus leaves scattered across a pond.
Led by Jörg and Wilhelm, even Hindenburg had joined in the lumbering for a while. But he was more than ten years older than Wilhelm II, and age had long since begun to hollow out the strength in his arms. After bringing down a single poplar no thicker than a large bowl, he had been forced to withdraw from the contest and stand aside as a spectator, leaning on his cane and breathing heavily.
At first, Jörg had been confident he could win.
Wilhelm II had quickly taught him otherwise.
The former emperor's technique was astonishingly practiced. With seasoned rhythm and efficient force, a tree would often fall after only a few clean swings. Jörg, by comparison, usually needed several more strikes to finish the job.
That forced him to abandon his earlier restraint. What had begun as a polite contest gradually pushed him to use nearly eighty percent of his strength just to keep up. Even so, Wilhelm maintained a lead of one or two trees for most of the afternoon.
Then, just as Jörg felled the last tree before him, movement flashed through the underbrush.
A deer.
Wilhelm spotted it at once, and the old emperor's interest shifted instantly from timber to sport. He turned just in time to see his young daughter, excited as a girl rather than a princess, motion for him to throw her the hunting rifle.
The rifle spun once through the air, landed in her hands, and was shouldered in one practiced motion.
Bang.
A bullet struck the trunk of a tree, gouging out wood just a fist's width from the deer.
Startled, the animal bolted.
At almost the same moment, Jörg, who had just set down his axe, accepted another hunting rifle from an attendant.
He raised it, aimed, and fired.
Bang.
The deer dropped instantly.
Blood arced across the edge of the dusk in a vivid crimson line before splashing into the grass.
"Good shot!"
The double pleasure of winning the bet and reclaiming the moment made Wilhelm II laugh aloud. He let out a sharp whistle, and two dachshunds darted out from somewhere nearby, circling the fallen prey in eager loops.
The movement behind him drew Jörg's gaze.
Following the direction of his eyes, a young woman in fitted hunting dress, with fine features and a slender figure, inclined her head slightly toward him.
"An excellent shot, Herr von Roman."
"Princess Charlotte?" Jörg asked.
Before she could answer, Wilhelm, dragging the deer closer by the legs, shook his head.
"She is not Charlotte. This is my second daughter, Lucy. She came to help carry the game."
The answer made Jörg pause.
If memory served, Wilhelm II should only have had one daughter. Where had this second one come from?
Before he could think further, Hindenburg, having noticed the brief flicker of confusion in his expression, explained quietly from the side.
"This is Her Highness Victoria Albert Lucy, His Majesty's second daughter. She and Princess Charlotte share the same mother, but Lucy is much younger than the Grand Duchess."
He paused, then added in a lower tone, "She was born in 1903 and has lived in the Netherlands with His Majesty since the abdication. She also once had a twin brother, but he died of the Spanish flu during the war."
Jörg nodded slightly.
He did not linger on the inconsistency.
This world had diverged from the one he remembered in too many subtle places for him to be surprised by an extra prince or princess. Compared with everything else he had seen, two additional royal children were hardly worth dwelling on.
By then, Wilhelm had drawn the deer fully over and Prince Vito, who had appeared at some point without Jörg noticing, stepped forward with an appreciative smile.
"Your marksmanship is remarkable."
His gaze lingered briefly on the bloodied wound in the deer's skull.
Wilhelm laughed.
"Remarkable? It is far better than that. The distance was at least eighty meters, there was no scope, no leisurely adjustment, and the animal was moving. He lifted the rifle and struck its head in a single shot."
He looked at Jörg with open delight.
"On a battlefield, that would have earned at least an Iron Cross."
He handed the deer to an attendant, then came closer and said, "Now then, Roman, you have already met Vito. And this is Lucy. She has been with me in the Netherlands these past few years. Unlike Vito, she is not especially well known."
Since they were being introduced properly, Jörg and Lucy shook hands.
Then the party returned to the manor.
The corridor inside was covered with deep red carpet threaded with fine gold. The walls were not hung with precious paintings, but with manuscript sketches, one after another, depicting ancient ships, grand buildings, gardens, and scenes of imperial leisure.
The name William signed at the bottom of several of them made Jörg immediately realize who had drawn them.
By the time they were seated in the hall, night had already fallen.
A crystal chandelier shone above them, filling the room with a warm golden light. Soon a pot of hot tea and a plate of finely made royal pastries were brought in by an elderly woman dressed in black, graceful despite her age.
Jörg recognized her identity almost at once.
This had to be Hermine Reuss of Greiz, Wilhelm's second wife.
Because Hindenburg had once visited in a private capacity, she was clearly familiar with him. But when it came to the handsome young man seated before her, she hesitated for a moment, as if trying to place him.
Wilhelm solved the problem for her.
"This is Jörg von Roman, the young man they call Europe's youngest military strategist."
The old lady's face brightened at once.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Herr von Roman. I have certainly never met so young a strategist before. But no matter how brilliant a strategist may be, he will still lose to my venison tonight."
She delivered the line with perfect timing.
As the consort of an exiled emperor, she clearly understood that what followed was likely to be a conversation among men of power, one in which her place was limited. Using the venison as an excuse, she gracefully withdrew and left them their privacy.
Once she was gone, Wilhelm set down his cup and got to the point.
"Roman, if my memory has not entirely abandoned me, then I won our little competition today, did I not?"
Jörg picked up a piece of chocolate pastry, took a sip of the red tea, and nodded.
"You did, Your Majesty."
"In that case, I have only one request."
Wilhelm leaned back slightly.
"Lucy has spent too many years in my shadow. Next year, I intend to send her to university in Berlin. I want you to look after her for me. As Deputy Commander in Chief of Germany, surely that is not beyond your ability."
The tone sounded casual, almost careless.
The meaning behind it was anything but.
Jörg heard it clearly.
His first instinct was refusal. But when he turned, Lucy was already looking at him in silence, dressed now in a long gown, her attention fixed so directly on him that it made evasion impossible.
At that moment, Jörg had to admit Hindenburg had not been wrong.
When it came to matters of the heart, he did not think like a proper nobleman at all.
A true aristocrat was expected to conceal emotion, not let it show in the slightest shift of expression. Yet Jörg knew he had never been very good at that. Perhaps it was simply a defect in the Roman bloodline.
Come to think of it, both his father and grandfather had produced only one direct heir, and neither had left behind any notable scandals. Seen that way, perhaps single mindedness was itself a Roman family tradition.
And then there was the problem standing much closer than before.
Lucy had deliberately drifted nearer, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her body and the faint scent of perfume and horse leather still clinging to her.
At that moment, Jörg found himself thinking, with genuine exhaustion, that women were more troublesome than war.
"No problem, Your Majesty," he said at last.
Then, half from impulse and half from irony, he gave a knightly bow so old fashioned it belonged to another century.
Wilhelm burst out laughing.
"None of that. Germany is the Weimar Republic now. If the Deputy Commander in Chief bows to me like that, people will think I am plotting restoration, and then the sailors and the socialists will probably start another uprising."
He waved a hand.
"You should bow to the President instead. In fact, you should thank him more than you thank me."
He smiled with mischievous satisfaction.
"Do you know how Hindenburg describes you in his letters? He says Germany is fortunate you entered politics. Had you become a businessman, the nation would probably end in the grip of merchant monopolies. Had you turned to science, Germany might have gained another Newton or Edison."
He took another sip of tea.
"As for literature, however, no. I have no fondness for men who conquer hearts with theory alone."
Before Jörg could answer, an attendant entered and bowed.
"Your Majesty, dinner is ready."
Wilhelm nodded, then turned toward Lucy with open amusement.
"Lucy, take our Herr Edison away and see that he bathes properly. It is time he tasted the finest venison in Europe."
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]