The Florentine Palace, Theodosia - April 24th, 1940, Early Morning
Torres von Reichsgraf walked through the massive bronze doors of the Florentine Palace feeling profoundly unsettled this morning. It was still very early, barely past dawn and he had stayed awake most of the night reading and rereading conflicting telegrams that arrived in waves from multiple embassies. Each new message seemed to contradict or complicate the previous one, and he had developed a growing conviction that these communications were foreshadowing something far more serious than a simple diplomatic misunderstanding.
The Chancellor had not experienced anything resembling proper sleep. He had been jolted fully awake in the middle of the night by urgent telegrams from the Hanseatic embassy in Tokyo reporting Japanese demands for immediate clarification on matters that, quite frankly, he had initially known nothing about. What exactly did they want him to clarify? What had prompted such urgent late-night communications?
Another telegram had arrived from Beijing at nearly the same time, and only by reading both sets of messages together had he begun to make sense of what this diplomatic incident actually concerned. And at the center of it all, once again, was his younger brother Kylian. He could scarcely believe it. After the technical instruction debacle in Beijing and now this, his brother somehow entangled in what appeared to be developing into an international crisis.
As the Chancellor made his way through the palace's grand corridors toward the throne room, the atmosphere struck him as eerily quiet in a way that increased his anxiety. The dimly lit chandeliers cast long shadows that seemed to dance mockingly along the marble walls. The usual bustle of early morning palace activity was absent; apparently, the Emperor had ordered the area cleared for their private consultation.
No one seemed to be present in the throne room except for Emperor Konrad II himself, seated upon the Griffin Throne but looking far from commanding at this moment. He was leaning heavily on his fists where they rested on the throne's ornate armrests, clearly in deep and troubled contemplation. Even from a distance, Torres could see the tension in his sovereign's posture.
"Your Majesty," Torres announced his presence with a formal bow as he approached the throne, his voice breaking the oppressive silence that had filled the chamber.
The Emperor appeared not to have noticed Torres's approach despite the echo of footsteps on marble floors. He looked up with a start. "Chancellor!" His voice was heavy with exhaustion but carried a note of genuine surprise. "I suspect the telegrams that kept me awake through the night accomplished the same feat for you. I can understand a von Reichsgraf becoming a topic of diplomatic discussion but to have one implied in what the Japanese are suggesting is a... a romantic entanglement with a Chinese imperial princess? That is something I would never have anticipated. Gods above, what is even happening in Beijing?"
The Emperor's frustration was palpable, his usual diplomatic composure frayed by lack of sleep and the bizarre nature of the situation.
Torres cleared his throat before responding, choosing his words carefully, "Your Majesty, I share your shock at these developments. However, I must emphasize that according to all available information, this situation is not the result of any fault on our part or any deliberate action by Captain von Reichsgraf. Rather, it appears to be the consequence of a seating arrangement error made by our Chinese hosts during the wedding ceremony."
He produced a telegram from his leather portfolio and handed it to the Emperor. "Foreign Minister von Hausen has provided a detailed explanation of the circumstances. I believe Your Majesty will find his account both credible and clearing of any intentional wrongdoing."
There was visible strain in Torres's face, the weight of defending his brother while maintaining objectivity as Chancellor but it was also clear to the Emperor that conviction shone in his eyes. Torres genuinely believed in his brother's innocence of any deliberate impropriety.
Emperor Konrad accepted the telegram and began scanning it, his eyes moving across the text. After several moments of careful reading, he looked up at Torres.
"It would appear that the Foreign Minister believes or at least asserts that this was purely a seating arrangement error on the part of the Chinese court," the Emperor said slowly, "The Minister of Rites fell ill at the last moment, and the only available seat of appropriate dignity for a foreign military officer of Captain von Reichsgraf's rank happened to be adjacent to the imperial family's section. Is that the substance of von Hausen's explanation?"
"Yes, precisely that, Your Majesty," Torres confirmed. "But I confess I am far from certain the Japanese will believe this version of events, however truthful it may be. I am afraid that the weight of the von Reichsgraf name makes any 'accident' involving one of our members seem implausibly convenient to suspicious minds. The Japanese will look for deeper meaning and intentional slights where none actually exist."
Torres sighed heavily as he spoke, his tone carrying profound resignation. He understood international politics well enough to know that the truth often mattered less than perception, and perception could be manipulated by those who wished to find offense.
"I will stand by what my Foreign Minister has reported, Chancellor," Emperor Konrad stated firmly, his voice taking a more authoritative tone. "If our Captain is not at fault, if he was simply assigned a seat and behaved with appropriate protocol, then we have a duty to defend him and maintain our position that he is innocent of any impropriety. Quite rightly so."
The Emperor's eyes fell upon Torres again, and he noticed that his Chancellor's expression was painting an increasingly concerned picture despite the firm support just expressed.
"Your Majesty, I agree completely that we must defend our officer if he has done nothing wrong," Torres said carefully. "But the implication of my brother forming some kind of romantic connection with a Chinese princess is deeply troubling from a diplomatic standpoint. I am deeply worried about the consequences this perception will generate, and particularly about the offense the Japanese will feel is directed at them personally. They will interpret this as the Hanseatic Empire conspiring with China to undermine their strategic interests and insult their honor."
Torres remained seated but found himself staring into the middle distance as he spoke, running through various scenarios and potential complications in his mind.
"The Japanese ambassador will be arriving at the palace in approximately two hours for what he has termed an 'important clarification,' Chancellor," Emperor Konrad informed him, his face stern as he spoke. "We will be speaking with him directly about these concerns. I intend to make it abundantly clear that we have absolutely no interest in participating in their imperial games in East Asia, no matter what conspiracy theories they may be constructing."
"I did not expect the Japanese to dispatch their ambassador so quickly, Your Majesty," Torres replied with surprise. "For them to mobilize their diplomatic mission this quickly means they view the matter with extreme seriousness, far more than a simple seating arrangement would normally warrant."
"I am convinced they perceive it as a deliberate slight," the Emperor said with a long, heavy sigh. "Regardless of the actual truth of the matter, their interpretation is what will drive their response. We must tell them our truth even if they insist on believing we are playing geopolitical games at their expense."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Torres replied, rising from his seat and offering a formal bow. "I will immediately give instructions to the palace staff to prepare the diplomatic reception area. Given the sensitivity of this meeting, I recommend we receive Ambassador Hosokawa in the private gardens. I believe it will have a less confrontational atmosphere than the formal throne room."
"Agreed, Chancellor. See to the arrangements."
Torres departed the throne room and made his way toward the private gardens, gesturing for a nearby servant to follow him. As he walked, his mind churned through the various ways this confrontation might unfold. The Japanese were not known for backing down from perceived insults, and their ambassador would almost certainly arrive with instructions from Tokyo to press their case aggressively.
The Private Gardens:
The Japanese ambassador was to be received at an elegant gazebo positioned at the heart of the Florentine Palace's private gardens. The gardens themselves were a masterpiece of landscape architecture, combining Hanseatic and Mediterranean influences with exotic plantings from across the Empire's global trading network.
Ornate fountains and mythic statues punctuated the manicured grounds. Lions and Hanseatic legends stood watch, but the centerpiece was a great angel, its outstretched hand pouring water in a perfect, melodic arc, a sound deliberately crafted to calm the tensions of the mind.
Flowers bloomed in neatly ordered patches throughout the garden, representing some of the rarest and most exotic species from around the world. Black roses that only grew in Ravara bloomed in elegant profusion. Rare wild Japanese magnolia, a diplomatic gift from a previous era of better relations, while the magnificent royal purple tulips that grew naturally only in Hanseatic soil created stunning visual centerpieces.
When the sun shone through the morning mist, as it was beginning to do now, the garden released the combined essence of hundreds of flowering species into the air. The resulting fragrance was almost overwhelming in its complexity and beauty, a sensory experience that normally put even the most irritated diplomatic visitors in a more conciliatory frame of mind.
Normally. Whether it would work on Ambassador Hosokawa in his current state of agitation remained to be seen.
At precisely ten o'clock in the morning, Ambassador Hosokawa arrived at the Florentine Palace. He was escorted by one of the Imperial Guards toward the private gardens through a route that showcased the palace's architectural splendor.
Torres and Emperor Konrad waited in the gazebo, seated on elaborately carved wooden lounge chairs whose design incorporated traditional Hanseatic motifs. The table before them had been set with careful attention to diplomatic protocol: elaborate silver pitchers filled with fine Hanseatic wines stood ready, alongside fine cuts of meat arranged artistically on porcelain platters. A porcelain vase holding a bouquet of the royal purple tulips served as the centerpiece.
Ambassador Hosokawa entered the gazebo with an expression that could only be described as stern. He was clearly displeased about the unfolding diplomatic situation, and he made no attempt to conceal his feelings behind the usual diplomatic pleasantries. He had come alone, without any staff or note-takers, which itself sent a message. This was to be a direct, frank exchange rather than a formal negotiating session.
What worried both Torres and the Emperor most was not his visible displeasure but rather the question of what instructions Tokyo had given him. What position was he required to defend? What concessions or admissions was he authorized to demand? The uncertainty was deeply unsettling.
After gesturing for the guard to withdraw and provide them privacy, the Japanese ambassador offered a bow toward his Hanseatic hosts before taking his seat. The atmosphere in the garden, despite the beauty and the pleasant morning sunlight, went silent for several long moments. Even the usually soothing sound of the fountains seemed to fade into background noise as the three men regarded each other across the table.
Ambassador Hosokawa spoke first, his tone formal, "Your Majesty, Your Grace," he addressed both of them with appropriate titles before continuing, "the Imperial court in Tokyo would like to understand why the Empire of Hansa thought it was necessary or appropriate to position a junior military captain directly adjacent to the Chinese Imperial family during a wedding ceremony of immense diplomatic significance, despite full knowledge of the event's importance to Japanese-Chinese relations."
The phrasing itself contained layers of implication. By saying "thought it necessary," he was suggesting deliberate choice rather than accident. He was questioning why someone of relatively modest rank would receive such prominent positioning unless it served some ulterior purpose. It was clear from both his face and his voice that he was deadly serious about these concerns.
Torres glanced toward the Emperor, but Konrad remained silent, content to let his Chancellor handle the initial response. Torres took a measured breath before beginning.
"I confess I do not understand what Your Honor is attempting to imply through these questions," Torres said carefully, maintaining diplomatic courtesy while refusing to accept the premise. "The Hanseatic Empire has absolutely no intention of provoking Japan or interfering in Japanese-Chinese affairs. Our Foreign Minister has provided a detailed explanation, which I would be happy to share with you: the seating arrangement was purely the result of an error on the part of our Chinese hosts. The Minister of Rites, who was scheduled to occupy that particular seat, fell ill at the last moment. The only available alternative placement of appropriate dignity for a foreign officer happened to be adjacent to the imperial family's section. It was circumstance, not conspiracy."
He paused to take a sip of tea, using the gesture to convey calm rationality in the face of accusations.
"A remarkably convenient excuse, I must say," Ambassador Hosokawa replied with sarcasm. "The Chinese court, with all their vaunted attention to protocol and centuries of experience hosting diplomatic events, somehow made an error that just happened to place a prominent Hanseatic officer beside an imperial princess. Your Grace must admit this strains credibility."
Torres felt his eyes narrow slightly at the ambassador's tone, but he maintained control of his expression. "Your Honor, I can only report what we have been told by our diplomatic mission on the ground. We have no reason whatsoever to provoke a great power such as Japan. I genuinely cannot understand why Japan believes we are seeking conflict or attempting to undermine your legitimate interests in the region."
His tone carried authority despite the measured, soft quality of his delivery, a skill he had cultivated over years of diplomatic practice.
"Your Grace," the Japanese ambassador replied, leaning forward slightly with increased intensity, "if this truly represents no provocation, would you care to explain why the captain in question comes from such a notably prominent Hanseatic family? A von Reichsgraf, He is your own brother no less, and represents one of the oldest and most distinguished noble houses in your Empire. Surely you can see how this appears from Tokyo's perspective."
The ambassador was clearly not going to accept easy answers. He had come prepared to press his case aggressively.
"This is purely coincidental, I assure you, Your Honor," Torres replied, forcing himself to maintain eye contact and project complete sincerity. "Captain von Reichsgraf was selected for this diplomatic mission based on his training, his language capabilities, and his exemplary service record. His family name, while distinguished, was not a factor in the assignment."
"Coincidence?" Ambassador Hosokawa's voice carried such exasperation that even Emperor Konrad raised his eyebrows at the breach of diplomatic decorum. "Surely Your Grace did not just attempt to dismiss this entire situation as mere coincidence? Do you truly expect Tokyo to believe that?"
"What exactly are you trying to suggest, Ambassador?" Torres asked, his tone becoming noticeably firmer and more authoritative. This was veering dangerously close to open accusation of deliberate deception.
The Japanese ambassador's gaze met Torres's directly, and silence fell over the gazebo for several long seconds. Only the distant sounds of birds in the garden trees and the gentle rustling of leaves in the morning breeze could be heard. The ambassador seemed to be calculating his next words with great care, knowing they would carry significant weight.
He straightened his coat with a single deliberate hand before speaking, "The Empire of Hansa has no male heir to its throne, Your Grace. How can this possibly be written off as mere coincidence that the captain seated directly beside a very eligible Chinese princess, a woman of marriageable age from one of the world's oldest nations comes from a distinguished house in Hanseatic nobility? The captain in question is twenty-two years old, a very eligible age to form romantic attachments and build matrimonial alliances. And it is no secret to anyone present at the ceremony that he was observed engaging in extended conversation with The Third Princess. This is transparently obvious to all observers, Your Grace. The implications are inescapable."
The ambassador said this with a hint of a smile playing at his lips, as though he had just delivered a checkmate move in diplomatic chess. He appeared convinced he had backed the Hanseatics into a corner from which they could not escape without admitting to the conspiracy he was alleging.
Torres felt his agitation rising as the conversation progressed. This had moved beyond normal diplomatic fencing into something more aggressive, more accusatory. He placed his hand firmly on the table and leaned forward, his body language conveying controlled intensity.
"Ambassador," Torres said with a tone of finality in his voice, "we Hanseatics do not appreciate being required to explain the same factual situation repeatedly to parties who have apparently decided not to believe us regardless of evidence. This was a coincidence. The seating was accidental. The conversation, to whatever extent it occurred was nothing more than normal diplomatic courtesy between representatives of friendly powers. Hansa has no romantic designs on Chinese princesses, no conspiracy to form marriage alliances that would undermine Japanese interests, and absolutely no intention of provoking Japan in any way. That is our position, and it will not change regardless of how many times you ask the question in different forms."
He focused his gaze directly on the Japanese ambassador as he delivered this statement, making clear through posture and tone that he considered this line of questioning closed.
"If the Hanseatic Empire does not wish to admit to its true intentions, then we will not continue to press for such an admission at this time," Ambassador Hosokawa replied, his expression unchanged and still clearly dissatisfied. "But I must make Tokyo's position absolutely clear: Japan does not tolerate interference in matters touching our national security and strategic interests in East Asia. We will take any actions that we deem necessary to protect those interests."
The threat was barely veiled, hanging in the morning air like a thundercloud about to break.
At this, Emperor Konrad raised his left hand in a gesture that immediately drew both men's attention. When the Emperor spoke, his voice was deceptively calm, "What actions does Japan deem necessary, Ambassador?" the Emperor asked casually, "Is this not perhaps excessive concern over what appears to be, at most, a minor seating error? The level of Tokyo's response seems dramatically disproportionate to the actual circumstances."
The Emperor's tone suggested he had noticed the implicit threats and was not intimidated by them, while also offering the ambassador an opportunity to de-escalate if he wished to take it.
"Your Majesty," Ambassador Hosokawa replied, maintaining his stern expression but addressing the monarch appropriately, "as I have attempted to explain, this matter would indeed have been easily dismissed as insignificant if the captain in question were not so prominent within your nobility, and if he had not been observed engaging in extended private conversation with the Third Princess. Under those circumstances, one might accept the accident explanation. But given the actual facts, this becomes a matter of Japanese national interest. We will not sit idly by while powers potentially hostile to our regional security interests cultivate relationships with China designed to encircle or constrain Japan."
He smiled again as he delivered this statement to the Emperor, a smile that held no warmth, only grim satisfaction at having stated Tokyo's position so clearly.
"There is nothing more we can say to convince you of our sincerity, I am afraid, Ambassador," Emperor Konrad replied with a slight sigh. "But you would only need to examine our past interactions to determine whether the Hanseatic Empire has historically proven honest and straightforward in its word or not."
"We understand this consideration very well, Your Majesty," Ambassador Hosokawa replied. "But as they say in geopolitical affairs, national interests must always take precedence over past goodwill. And it is hardly beyond the realm of possibility that China falls within the sphere of Western interests in containing Japanese power. We cannot ignore such strategic realities simply because of previous positive relations."
He spoke with a stern expression and that same knowing smile as he rose from his chair, clearly considering this conversation concluded.
"Your Majesty, Your Grace, I will be taking my leave now. I believe I have made our government's stance sufficiently clear and delivered the message Tokyo wished me to convey." Ambassador Hosokawa offered a formal bow, and the Emperor raised his hand in acknowledgment rather than rising to match the gesture, a subtle indication of displeasure with how this conversation had unfolded.
The ambassador turned and walked deliberately toward the Florentine Palace, escorted by the Imperial Guard who had been waiting at a discreet distance. Emperor Konrad and Chancellor Torres watched in silence as he proceeded down the flowering path, his figure gradually diminishing with distance until he disappeared through the garden gates.
Several moments passed after the ambassador had departed before anyone spoke. The tension that had filled the gazebo during the confrontation slowly dissipated, replaced by a different kind of concern.
Emperor Konrad broke the silence first, his voice heavy with contemplation. "I did not like what he said. There were far too many veiled threats embedded in that conversation, this went well beyond normal diplomatic posturing."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Torres replied, genuine shock evident in his voice. "It appears we are now, in their eyes, an enemy nation or at least a hostile power working against their interests. I cannot believe this entire situation has developed all because one of our captains was assigned a seat beside a princess at a wedding ceremony. The disproportion between cause and effect is staggering."
"In a world where nations are desperately attempting to control the narrative of how the outside world perceives them, anything can become a slight, anything can be interpreted as an insult or a threat," the Emperor observed. "Japan has invested enormous prestige in this marriage alliance with China. They want to present this as an alliance between willing partners, two ancient civilisations choosing to unite their destinies. Any suggestion that China might have other options, other potential partners, undermines that carefully constructed narrative. I am afraid, Chancellor, that the spark has been lit."
His voice was low but Torres could sense profound meaning behind what the Emperor was saying, implications that went far beyond this immediate diplomatic incident.
"What do you mean specifically, Your Majesty?" Torres asked, though part of him suspected he already knew the answer.
"The Japanese are going to invade China soon, possibly within months, maybe weeks," Emperor Konrad stated with grim certainty. "I am convinced of this now. They sent their ambassador here to accomplish two objectives: first, to gauge how much support we might provide to China if conflict erupted, and second, to confirm their suspicions that we are attempting to build relationships with the Chinese court. From their perspective, our answers to both questions must have been unsatisfactory. We've essentially refused to admit to any conspiracy despite their pressure. That gives them the justification they've been seeking."
He paused to take a contemplative drink from his cup and consume a piece of lamb from the table, chewing thoughtfully.
"What do you recommend we do in response to this situation, Your Majesty?" Torres asked, his mind already racing through various scenarios and potential Hanseatic responses.
"I want you to immediately instruct our embassy in London to request military docking rights in Hong Kong, give them concessions if you must," the Emperor said decisively. "Tell the British we want to use it for a few weeks to refuel and refit for our upcoming naval exercises in the Pacific. Also, I want you to prepare orders for the First Carrier Fleet to deploy to Hong Kong waters once those docking arrangements are secured."
This pronouncement seemed to confuse Torres rather than clarify the Emperor's thinking. "The Carrier Fleet, Your Majesty? Surely you are not preparing to launch military strikes against Japan? Such action would be absolutely unthinkable given the current state of our armed forces. We're in no position to fight a major war.
Torres protested with real concern, hoping the Emperor would recognize the military limitations they faced. The Hanseatic armed forces were well-trained and well-equipped, certainly, but they had been operating at peacetime readiness levels for over half a century. Mobilizing for actual warfare would require months of preparation.
"No, Chancellor, you misunderstand my intention," Emperor Konrad replied with a slight smile at his Chancellor's alarm. "I am not preparing to strike at Japan militarily. I am sending the Carrier Fleet to Hong Kong to serve as evacuation vessels for the Chinese imperial family before Japan launches her invasion. The presence of our carrier fleet in Hong Kong waters will be a deterrent to any Japanese attempt to interfere with that evacuation. They will not risk a naval engagement with a Hanseatic carrier fleet in British waters over the fate of a few Chinese royals. The imperial family will be safe aboard our ships. If we do it early, they do not have to know about the evacuation."
Torres now understood the strategic logic and nodded slowly, his expression clearing as the pieces fell into place. "So we are preparing to offer asylum to the Chinese imperial family before Japan invades? And using our naval presence to guarantee safe passage?"
"Precisely," the Emperor confirmed. "We cannot prevent the invasion but we can ensure that the imperial family survives, that they have a place of refuge when Beijing falls. Emperor Xianhe has requested asylum for his children, did he not? I can at least do this for him in this matter even if we cannot directly intervene."
The fountains continued their musical burbling, birds sang in the trees, yet the atmosphere in the gazebo remained heavy with the knowledge that war was approaching, that the diplomatic incident they had been discussing was merely a symptom of much larger forces moving toward inevitable conflict.
Torres von Reichsgraf prepared to rise and begin implementing his sovereign's orders—contacting London, drafting deployment orders for the First Carrier Fleet, arranging the complex logistics of what was essentially a major evacuation operation. But he could not shake the growing conviction that the Emperor's assessment was not merely speculation, but something that was becoming inevitable.