Low Tide.

It has been two months since he met the King of Haiti. 

Felipe looked at the mast on which his ship was relaying--The damn thing had snapped off; thankfully, it had snapped relatively high, so the structural integrity of the mast was not that damaged. It was enough to reach the Port of Southampton. 

Southampton was a small South English port then, yet it was big enough to give them a place to dock. Though while some were preparing to make the ship at least somewhat sea-worthy again by repairing the mast, others were frenetically taking out cargo as if they were robbing the fucking ship. 

They could dock in the wooden port inside the bay at high tide. They were unloading everything from the ship as they were not looking for the ship to crush on its weight—when the ship is on the water, the weight would be distributed alongside the ship's haul. When the tide eventually goes low, the surface on which the entire weight of the ship will be put would be reduced to only its keel, so to reduce the stress on it, they must reduce the weight by taking all the cargo that was there which includes bed frames, barrels, ropes and other miscellaneous stuff. 

They were also preparing the ship supports to be stable on the bay floor; in other words, they would be in a temporary dry dock for repairs. After the mast was fixed, they would continue; until then, they would just stay there. 

"Yes, thank you very much," Felipe said, as he was the most proficient in English of the whole crew.

He had to study English almost from scratch after he was reincarnated because he would not understand a sentence from his nanny. Thankfully, he had enough foundation to pick up on the intonations and weird words they would say; even though 200 years was not a long time in the history of a developing country, there are still people in the UK who speak in an unintelligible way!

He was supposed to be in the port of London but didn't feel safe being in the English Channel with a broken Mast! The water was choppy, and the winds were aggressive; he was amused that they could make it so long without even stopping in Ireland. 

Fall was already on top, and even though it might not be as much, the wind worried Felipe. The coasts were full of strong winds while in the port, there was nothing, and to cross to London Port, they would need to sail right in the strong sails, and even though they were in the favourable direction, they were a bit too strong for a ship with a broken mast.

"The warehouse is already full…" One seaman said in Spanish as he got the news from his people that they could not accommodate another box. 

"Okay… I will solve that." Felipe looked at the logistical nightmare of beaching a medium-sized ship at almost emergency time. 

--

A few hours later. 

Felipe saw the entire ship slowly reach the very muddy-like ship and rest on the improvised wooden structure. It was late summer, so there was still a lot of light, giving time for the port city carpenters. They were in the chance to provide the ship with a fighting chance. 

Without a cloud in the sky, Felipe could see the enormous moon in the sky since noon. Nevertheless, there were not enough facilities to change a ship's mast, just enough to repair it and make it sea-worthy for a few miles, then in London, get a proper shipyard fix. 

"Hello… your majesty…. Right? No, imperial majesty…" The leader of the Coast Guard said politely as he didn't know what to say. All the UK's forces were based on the King as the commander in chief, so they had to know how to address certain people high up in the aristocracy level. 

The funny thing is that the title of Emperor was King of kings; in other words, it was the very thought that an emperor was not only god's will on earth but was god himself! And even though the United Kingdom of Britain and Ireland were in the unison of multiple kingdoms, the British monarch never got the title of Emperor. Nevertheless, the British monarch would later get the title of Queen Empress when India would be given to Queen Victoria in a few years, as for now, King George IV was just their King. 

The position of Emperor was awkward when dealing with the Russian Empire and the Austrian Empire; after all, there could only be one Emperor. 

"Your majesty is okay," Felipe said as he smiled and looked at the other soldier, bending their necks to look at him in the face. 

"A giant." One of the coastguards' murmurs was a bit loud. 

"Hey!" One guard beside him elbowed him quickly.

"Your majesty, I am sorry for my subordinate." The leader said d quite worried; it was a clear disrespect. "He will be disciplined; please be reassured."

In the minds of commoners across Europe, the nobility were rash and a bit cruel when they were not in massive public or at a party. 

"Sure, though I don't mind." Felipe smiled, "The Giant Prince, it is a bit more flattering remark." 

All of them were surprised by how gentle Felipe's voice sounded while talking, even though his physic was basically out of the world. 

"I hope I am not too much of a bother. Could you please make the nearest barber meet in the inn where I will be staying? The travel across the pond has given me bad habits…. Maybe it was god's will before I met your King." Felipe said gently. 

"That would not be a problem." The leader said as he had forgotten that he was a coast guard. "We have arranged for local police to keep the place where you would be safe. I understand a long trip will tire your sailors and your soldiers." 

"I appreciate that."

There was an awkward silence before they awkwardly returned from where they came from like penguins trying not to fall over the wooden dock—they forgot why they went to talk to Felipe's crew. 

For context, the current King, George the 4th, has gotten the infamy of being a slob and pompous bastard who only knows how to throw away the national wealth. In retrospect, they just saw a prince that not only towered them in height, but he towered them in muscle mass! They felt the sensation that almost every person that meets Felipe has—that person can kill me with a punch. 

The formal attire tailored for him was big already, and even then, his biceps could be seen tightening the sleeve! That also went for the pants and everything else.

A normal person in the 1800s could not get like that! One would need the time to exercise, the dedication and the sheer will to do so, to begin with, then one would need money to cover the time he would not be working, then the most difficult would contain protein intake. 

Even during the Journey from Washington to the UK, Felipe constantly ate beef jerseys and citrus pallets to prevent scurvy! Aside from that, plain old bread was stored as whole grain in barrels for them to mill and then bake when needed. 

Aside from all that, a person would need the natural genetics to be 6+ Feet tall in 1800; that was not normal,l with hunger being a common denominator across the fucking world. 

"Sigh… I thought I would be happier to return here; now I remember this place. It is a fucking mess." Felipe said as he remembered London and how he made enough fortune in London to finance the war that gave them the titles of imperial royalty. 

A huge reach from what their house once held,d which was the Eastern Roman Empire, but it was still something. Thousands of people have died for him and his father! The throne is real! It was built over skeletons, one requirement for a realistic throne. 

Now he returns to where everything started as a defector leader of a nation that has only seen growth in the past few years since they have gotten leadership of the Colombian Empire.

Felipe sighed as he knew that there was much yet to do. Empires will only last a hundred years and a bit more! He must ensure he leaves a path for what he will leave behind to prosper beyond the great filter for empires later. 

"Shit, I don't want to die." He murmured, looking at the stars already showing despite having hints of light blue across the sky. 

"Not fair. I can't enjoy my masterpiece." He gave a last look at the starry night and went back to help get his stuff to his in. He has let his imagination go wild and has written multiple books while sailing the Atlantic! He doesn't want to lose his work! 

"In a world where deities casually appear, maybe I can enjoy it myself; I wanna fight Hitler."