An Address to the King (I)

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[Oktober 4th 1018, Ab Imperii Condita]

It was a clear day.

Under the blue sky was a bustling city. The capital city of the Kingdom of Weiss:

Cölln.

The city sprawled alongside a tributary river that was connected to numerous lakes, canals, moats, and other bodies of water between and under the city.

Within the imposing walls and fortifications, the streets were twisting and turning. Houses and shops were tightly compressed together. The buildings' architecture was elaborately designed, complete with intricate details and facades.

Surrounding the city were plains and meadows; accompanied by the nearby woodlands, farmlands, towns and rural settlements. Roads and rail networks stretched in every direction, connecting the city to the various areas and major cities over Weiss and beyond.

Acting as the heart of Weiss, Cölln was a city of contrasts. It was filled with grand palaces and sprawling slums, cutting-edge factories with outdated traditions, and a diverse mix of people from all over the Western Peninsula.

It was a rapidly growing city, fueled by the fast expansion of industries and commerce with an influx of skilled immigrants seeking economic opportunities.

—But most of all, it was the very face of Weiss; it was a centre of innovation and modernity. The city was home to the most advanced industries in the continent, with factories producing everything from textiles to machinery. Theatres, opera halls, and museums attracted visitors from all across the world.

As the city had been increasingly growing, it became a hub of political and intellectual debate. The necessity of the leftover feudal elements of society was being put into question. Accordingly, thinkers and activists were finally starting to push for more social and political reform.

Riding the waves of optimism after a recent successful armed uprising by the Francien people, thousands were beginning to gather in the capital city…

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Busy crowds were walking along the streets of Cölln.

There were farmers, butchers, carpenters, shopkeepers, urban workers; people of diverse professions and backgrounds. Among them, one could even spot those that dressed in their walking suits and top hats—particularly from the bourgeoisies, the nobility, and the academic intellectuals.

They took on the paved roads and the streets, passing by in front of the vast arrangements of buildings that come in varying sizes and practicality.

Their steps could be heard across the city. Chatters were exchanged. Some curious bystanders had stopped over to observe.

They all seemed to gather at the city square, heading with a specific purpose: towards the young king of the country. He was apparently still on his way to the palace, sitting in a moving carriage.

The royal carriage was drawn by two horses on a wide boulevard leading up to the city gate. It was led by columns of royal guards that rode their horses on the front, followed by other columns of the rest of the guards behind. The royal guards wore the standard black military uniforms with the spiked helmets on top. Armed with swords on the side and with the latest rifles, they seemed to be more than intimidating to any potential assailant.

As they passed through the gate, crowds of people could be seen closing in from the distance. They seemed to be gathering onto the square. In response, an officer motioned for the entire entourage to stop midway.

Seeing how threateningly close the crowd was getting to the carriage, the guards began to be alert. take on their arms, prepared for confrontation. Revealing their discipline, they quickly positioned themselves in formation.

"Halt!" shouted the guards' captain to the masses.

Feeling growing hostility from the guards, the crowd instinctively stopped.

Tension.

The crowd's spirit remained high. Their determination seemed to refuse to back down.

It all seemed that either the guards or the masses would make the first move against any of them, and a showdown would erupt between them at any time. That is, until…

"Cease this at once!"

An order came from within the carriage, "You must not hinder their way."

"Let them come."

A white-haired man went down from the carriage, adorned by a long black coat hanging over his shoulders. He wore the black Weissen military tunic with a short standing collar and black trousers under his knee-height boots.

Following him down was a black-haired young lady, wearing a knee-high black dress adorned with a simple light blue ribbon and black thigh-highs. A short black cape jacket draped over her shoulders.

After he moved forward, the man was standing upright on the paved space in front of the crowd.

Sense of an urgent reverence was surging as the crowd of thousands immediately bowed in the presence of the king. It was a sign of their relief.

The king, a person as high in position in every country, was willing to come down to stand with them, face-to-face. It was not entirely unexpected, however. Perhaps, he would hear their pleas and share concerns.

But they were hesitating for a moment, uncertain.

'What if we made him angry? What are we going to do next?'

Glances were exchanged. The crowd muttered among themselves, unsure what to say. Nobody was surely willing to directly strike a conversation with the king.

Then suddenly, a nobleman came out from the crowd, as if he sensed their fear. He went over in front of the crowd, standing directly facing the king. The nobleman then bowed to the young king to show his respect.

"Your Majesty!" exclaimed the man, bowing.

The young king nodded.

"With Your Majesty's gracious permission, I humbly propose that our upcoming conversation be made available for all to hear within the city, thus affording all residents the opportunity to partake in our discourse."

The young king thought for a moment, before nodding to the nobleman once again, "We shall permit it."

The king then motioned his hand over to one of the royal guards. As the guard recognised the gesture, she promptly casted a sound-enhancing spell to the young king and the nobleman for all in the city to hear.

Unintelligible runes started appearing so tightly arranged between intricate magic circles and its outer rings. The overlapping circular shapes in various patterns and sizes formed under the king and the nobleman as they were glowing.

After a short while, the circles dissipated into nothingness, leaving the two men standing alone.

"You may now speak."

The nobleman bowed again, wiping his cold sweat on his forehead.

"Your Majesty, may it please you to hear the words of this humble servant, Dietrich von Baseldorf. Today, we, your faithful and devoted subjects, beseech Your Majesty's benevolence to relieve us of our sorrows."

"And what might that be about?" the king solemnly asked.

The nobleman took a deep breath, then continued, "With all due respect, Your Majesty… We are discontent with the leftover archaic structure of our country. Times have changed; the Holy Latium Empire has fallen, yet our situation remains the same. The unity of the nation is still hindered by the incessant squabbles of the selfish princes!."

The nobleman then extended his hand towards the gathered crowd, still facing the king. The king listened in earnest.

"Furthermore, Your Majesty, the privileged position of the aristocracy has left many of us at a disadvantage. The nobles hold a disproportionate amount of power and privilege, while the common citizen is left with fewer opportunities and rights. They enjoy tax breaks and access to government offices, while the working class and farmers suffer from unemployment and poor harvest returns. Their policies and practices serve to further alienate us from important day-to-day decision-making processes!"

Mutterings rippled through the crowd as the nobleman's words struck within them.

They felt the weight of his speech. The people felt a surge of anger and frustration rise within them, not just towards the aristocrats but also towards their own sense of powerlessness.

"We do not wish to be shackled by such discriminatory systems any longer! …We desire to be liberated from the old aristocracy that still retains their control over our country!"

"History bears witness to the division of our nation by numerous petty kingdoms, duchies, and city-states. The quarrelling princes and the resulting disunited land have always made our country vulnerable to foreign powers seeking to carve it up. The people are exhausted, Your Majesty."

"Hear! Hear!" someone from the crowd started to shout.

"Our humble request, Your Majesty, is to bring an end to the current system of governance. We desire to have the freedom to voice our opinions and have a say in how our country is governed. We yearn for unity in our fatherland, and we cannot have it as long as the aristocracy holds all the power and continues to perpetrate injustice. We implore you to stand with us, Your Majesty…" with that, the nobleman deeply bowed to the king.

By then, virtually everyone in the city had heard the nobleman's speech. They all waited for the young king to respond.

The king was generally viewed as a national hero. Served and had been rising up in ranks since his tender days, the young king had led a record of expeditions and battles overseas. He was known for his bravery and magical prowess on the frontlines.

He was certainly the most popular person to currently live in Weiss. The average layman had heard tales and stories of him, even just by sayings. His battles would make headlines in the newspapers. 'A prince, unrivalled in the matters of war, moving out of the enemy lines with damsels in distress in tow.' His exploits and actions were retold in the operas and theatres. Children would recite his lines in their playful banters. Those accomplishments were real, naturally. But the need for domestic propaganda in every country would make the best out of their 'heroes', and Weiss is definitely not an exception.

Perhaps that was exactly why nobody could precisely pinpoint his personality nor his vision when he was just crowned a few months ago. He was still pretty much a mystery.

Despite that, they came here in peace. Instead of an open—armed, often violent—unrest as what the people of other countries did, they came with anything but faith to their hero-king. Perhaps also by fear.

But the fact was that they showed themselves as being harmless; only by believing in him. A belief that the king would give his absolute support in favour of the people.

Or at least, that was how it all appeared to the king.

Before the king had any chance to reply, the black-haired lady, arms crossed, retorted:

"Pardon the interruption, I mean no disrespect. But really, Sir von Baseldorf… I really think you need to understand the difficulty of the situation these days, that is."

"...A-and you are?"

"Berlinetta Elyse von Ruppel-Brocken. Does that strike any chord?"

"...!!!"

The nobleman and the crowd simultaneously could not hide their shock.

Seemingly disinterested with their reaction, she continued,

"Now, it is quite apparent for both of us that the economic hardship we are experiencing is not solely confined to our country or even to the confederation, but rather pervades throughout the continent. Activities went down in shock, while companies are struggling to continue their businesses. It is the government that has been working tirelessly to keep the economy afloat, but the situation remains challenging. Nonetheless, with the current policies, the average working-class citizen is still able to procure a loaf of bread from their nearest bakery for a mere thirty pfennigs—quite a luxury to many citizens of Arlen or Wenia, is it not?"

Surprise and curiosity were painting the crowd's expressions.

"How can't it be so? You tell us, Sir Baseldorf… Life is, after all, not a wish concert."

Wanting to speak more, she opened her mouth again, but then decided to just shrug it off.

The king, facing the nobleman once more, began to speak.

"...Well, Sir von Baseldorf."

"...Y-yes, Your Majesty?"

"I believe it is the appropriate time for you to tell her—no—us, your motivations as to why you are so keen on scrutinising the current government. One cannot help but wonder, when you are a member of the aristocracy yourself."

The word 'von' is a prestigious title that indicates nobility. Its use is pretty much only reserved for members of the Serrelander nobles, often from within the confederation. It was also granted as a non-hereditary title for outstanding performance in the Weiss Military.

But the king, who is also at the same time the head of the kingdom's military apparatuses, knew that the nobleman was not one of the latter.

"Your Majesty, in the opinion of Lady Ruppel-Brocken, perhaps it is true that by our inadequate insight, our concerns may be mistakenly directed. But by no means we are ungrateful towards the country's current performance compared to our fellow brothers within the confederation."

The nobleman politely replied.

"However, Your Majesty must understand well that the government's current course of action will likely cause Weiss to be at conflict with itself. If anything, the last Wars of Liberation have taught us that our nation could not stand against foreign powers divided. There are many problems that we need to confront, including of course, the matter of a united fatherland. That is why some of us, myself included, have decided to partake in today's demonstration whilst ensuring that nobody may be harmed in the procession. We are a proud and strong nation, and we must always strive to remain so!"

"Besides, Your Majesty," he paused, softly smiling, "Is it not apparent that the duty of a knight is always to protect the people and the fatherland from anything that may endanger our way of life?"

'Noblesse Oblige…? What naivety.'

The black-haired lady thought to herself.

"It is the duty of a noble; an obligation to the people. I personally believe that we must remember our responsibility: what we have to pay in respect to our ancestors and lineage. Now that the age has changed and the people are desiring freedom,"

he said with a palm on his chest.

"We shall relinquish our own grip over them and partake in whatever the future they have chosen to face."