Standing silently, his arms crossed, nearest the great doors which led into the lobby, he felt all eyes bear upon him. As his lords and liege were similarly, the man who was called was left choiceless. Advancing out of the dark, his field uniform came into the light, a stark difference from the dress of the court. But despite him being an outsider, the nobles stood aside and made way for the grand marshal whose birth was not that of a high lord, nor was he an imposing figure. The air about him was surprisingly lacking yet his rank alone moved all. When they formed a path for him, the middle-aged soldier was led towards the table where he stood beside the kings at ease, as if he was equal to that of his liege. The Zhermanner and the Lecher pivoted themselves, their attention ready to intake what he had to say that they would have to rely upon when their lords lacked clarity.
The most trusted advisor of military affairs to Friedrich the king held his hands behind his back. “Let us hold a vote, for the sake of this nation.” Meyer proposed to the unavoidable dissatisfaction of the nobles.
His idea was nothing but a commoner value to the parties present and his suggestion alone, his first words, stirred commotion. For those lords whose rank exceeded the majority, any noble lower than themselves had no say, and to need to put themselves on the same social stratum as those they once ruled over was humiliating. It destructed the conventions of the nobility. The marshal could only look around him powerless as the inevitable conflict and bickering ensued. Frowns targeted him, however, he kept an unwavering demeanor. Ignoring their complaints, he turned to the king for his vote of confidence. The two monarchs glanced at each other and arrived at a conclusion without needless interaction, returning to the marshal an answer within a firm nod. Friedrich raised his hand, and immediately, the nobles silenced their squabble.
Waiting until all was still, the marshal then began the vote. “Those in favor of surrender?” He asked firstly.
Some lords were tentative, intuitively seeking their neighbors’ decisions prior to their own, to understand whether their vote would fall into the minority or the majority. Only those brave or foolish enough, mostly of the lower ranking few, raised their hands. Even though it was clear that support for surrender had lost the vote, Meyer attentively recorded each and every who raised their hands then.
“And those against?” Meyer wondered the opposite.
In fashion and predictably, the majority of nobles voted in favor. Arms rose like towers erected, reaching for the ceiling that would signify their rebellion against the fates. Their numbers did not lie and the vote was passed, however there were two whose ballots were yet to be cast. When everyone else had done so, they were cunning enough to choose to do so then, gathering that there was overwhelming support for a redeclaration of war, the two kings put up their hands, assured that it was the righteous path to take. But on counting the final tally, Meyer nodded his head and sighed, acknowledging its results disappointedly. He raised his arm and his hand drew into a fist. Like a tempest, his loyal troops marched inward, bearing arms against the lords and ladies of the conference. As officers directed their soldiers, reinforcements barged into the hall. The rattling of sabers and rifles surrounded them, their blades and barrels pointed only at those who had voted to fight just then. Without a care that they were once their lieges, they seized the blue-bloods at the given order. The men who fought were wrestled to the ground, their arms twisted and herded away from the table. Even the nobles who had voted in favor of surrender were alarmed by the brutal culling of their comrades. They watched helplessly as their friends, family, and oldest allies were pushed aside, forced into a corner of the room, including King August and his family, but excluding the Zhermanner royals. Having known nothing of this betrayal, Friedrich looked on, trapped in a stupor. Stupefied by the coup that had swiftly swept through the palace within a minute, although he and his family were safe from mistreatment, the king felt as though he was a hostage of his own minister no less. The grand marshal called away the spared to be brought into a separate chamber, lest they witness a heinous crime be carried out in the following moments that would come, that they could have been subject to if not for their vote. But the royals remained which he least wished to explain his actions to.
Naively convinced that it was possible yet, Friedrich attempted to make amends. “What is the meaning of this?” Nothing could possibly explain what was occurring before his eyes, his words intended not solely for the marshal but every soldier involved in the act.
August and his family, dozens of noblemen and noblewomen, their children whose parents were careless enough to have brought forced out from their guest chambers and rejoined, briefly, into the hands of their guardians, were all cordoned into one side of the reception. Some attempted to flee through the windows and the rear doors, but as more troops streamed into the hall, they were struck down. The Lecher king held his daughters and his infant son close, his wife frightened into tears. Only those who had seen the rougher edges of time understood what awaited them, embracing the young who were still innocent, oblivious in the face of imminent fate. Once his men were in position, a captain pointed his saber at the ceiling, commanding his troops to aim their rifles. The cries of the moon were captured by his blade which glimmered with a soft white light.
Refusing to face his king, Meyer shamefully kept ahead, his captain looking over his shoulder waiting for his command. “I would sooner rather see my country lay under the palm of an enemy than be forgotten entirely.” The marshal explained, but he did not expect the king to accept his reason.
When realization struck him, believing that he was capable of drafting such a plan that he would willingly execute, the king reached for his belt intending to strike down the traitor, but his sword was not present. “Y-You orchestrated this?” Friedrich stammered, as he feared that his betrayal was the result of his ill-judgement.
“No, I simply gave the command.” Meyer replied.22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYKufv4RJ5P
