The Bundle
Sorry for the wait, but this chapter's a little longer than usual. I hope you'll enjoy it.
Thanks to reviewer Franklin E. Battenberg for mentioning the Sicilian Fasci- the research was both fascinating and helpful for the story. If you didn't guess, fascism developed from some particular fasci.
The fasces (bundle of sticks, sometimes with an axe in it) is an old symbol, older than fascism. I plan on using/discussing the symbol in that non-fashy context, but I just wanted to clear the air and be honest about this whole thing. I don't know if this is like a content warning… but I don't want any misunderstandings when I use the term.
The idea of a worker's union was a fairly simple one: unite the workers and gain bargaining power. If one man stopped working, that was no big deal- you could fire him and hire another, simple as that. However, if you managed to get a massive majority of your coworkers to leave too… then you could start making demands.
Of course, his father, the Emperor, didn't look too kindly upon things would impede industrialization, so unions were… frowned upon, to put it one way. On the other hand, Lelouch hoped to purposefully provoke unionism and cooperation among workers. This could definitely blow up in his face if he didn't manage it well, but Lelouch hoped to provoke it in such a way that would benefit him- fire had capacity to harm you, but if properly controlled…
He had harnessed Italian nationalism in a similar way, and Lelouch hoped to create a systems of unions that was at least on friendly terms with the government as opposed to whatever the workers would cook up by themselves. Plus, there were quite a few things the workers wanted that Lelouch thought would be helpful overall. Better wages could be spent to help the economy, and less dangerous conditions were only a good thing for the workers.
Giving the workers the tools they needed to organize could backfire, but Lelouch also hoped to present himself as the best possible option for the Italian people. Would the Habsburgs, Bourbons, or even a replacement Viceroy give them so many rights and encourage better standards of living among the workers? Republican governance was nice, but it was also the sort of thing you don't want to loose- the more rights Lelouch gave the people, the more passionately they'd defend them, or at least he hoped so.
They were in Cosenza now, a town situated partway down the "toe" of the Italian boot, in Calabria. Lelouch and his sisters were having a quiet meal in a castle in the region- one built by the Hohenstaufens, an imperial family who ruled as Kings of Sicily and Emperors of the Holy Roman Empire (or Kings of Germany/Kings of the Romans, if you pleased).
It took some real dynastic finagling to get all those titles (not that it lasted)- and Lelouch had to wonder how those famed princes would have handled unions, industrialization, republicanism, and all the issues plaguing modern states. These were changing times indeed.
"I hope to create a network of worker's unions… well, perhaps we could use a different word. There's a word in Italian, meaning something like bundle or sheaf. Fascio."
"A bundle?" Cornelia gave him a questioning look.
"Have you ever heard the fable of the old man and his sons? By Aesop?"
Cornelia gave a thin smile. "You're awfully fond of the circumlocution, aren't you, Lelouch? It is possible to make your points using fewer words."
Lelouch rolled his eyes. "An old man has rambunctious sons, and to teach them the value of cooperation he takes a bundle of sticks and asks them to snap it. Of course, the sons can snap the sticks individually but cannot when they're bundled together- the moral's a simple tale of cooperation making us all stronger. Do you get what I mean?"
"Fitting enough, I suppose. The comparisons practically write themselves."
"It's a reminder of a proud past- for the Romans, a bundle of sticks around an axe was a symbol of power. The symbolism carried on all the way to the French revolution."
"Revolutionary France and Rome- enemies of Britannia, the both of them."
Lelouch gave a grin. "And Italy is not Britannia. She has her own symbols, her own past. You know this: Bengalis, Tamils, whoever- they don't forget their traditions because a different flag flies overhead."
"They're still under Britannia."
"But that doesn't make them Britannian, does it?" Cornelia's expression soured as Lelouch continued. "Do you think they'll ever become truly loyal Britannians? Do you think Britannia can bend entire continents to her will?"
"We stopped Washington's rebellion, didn't we?" There was that, Lelouch supposed. The Britannian officer turned revolutionary may have died, but his legacy lived on in how Britannia treated her colonies.
Perhaps in time views on the man would change. Lelouch saw hints of a martyr in him- not for religion, but for republicanism and liberalism, for a world free of despots. His body may have been moldering in the grave, but the ideas he lived for, died for, remained, even if they were held in secret, for now.
"I suppose we did."
William I returned to the Netherlands in splendor, and was received with cheering and celebration in Amsterdam. It had taken some time for him to arrive from Britannia, and he hadn't arrived at the best of times- the kingdom was caught up in a flurry of action as they rushed to put down the growing Belgian revolt.
The King was incensed by the revolt- he would not have loose his kingdom to raving revolutionaries again, and he made sure to send his sons to stop the revolution while he tended to the government.
However, King William wasn't the only person in the Low Countries worrying about his government- the Belgians were working to establish an emergency government to carry them through the war. Once they had achieved independence, they could sit down to focus on establishing a more permanent government. Hopefully, a constitution could be drawn up soon, but for now, they had slightly bigger concerns.
Of course, other powers were keeping their eyes on the Belgian situation, and diplomats rushed across Europe on horseback. The great powers of Europe had a vested interest in bringing the situation to a peaceful conclusion, the one that would keep the balance of power from tipping. Dragging all of those powers back into a bloody, destabilizing war just after the French had been brought to heel… that was unacceptable.
Perhaps in this would be how all political problems in the future would be solved- instead of war, the great powers of Europe could together and reach an agreement- a European Concert, if you would. Spain, France, the Empire of the Danube, Prussia, and Russia were expected, but in a strange turn of events the Britannian Empire was getting involved as well in spite of increasing isolation from Europe.
Britannia's influence on the continent was inescapable- France and the Danubian Empire both bordered the Kingdom of Italy, not to mention Spain and the Britannian influenced Kingdom of Portugal and Gibraltar itself- and they could project power deep into the Mediterranean. At the same time, their diplomatic policy had grown increasingly outward looking, and even their issues with Russia largely sprouted from problems in Asia, not Europe.
Curiously, some of the last people to be informed about the upcoming discussion of the fate of Belgium… were the Belgians.
The attempted murder of a prince of the Empire was an immediate concern, and an investigation began within the night of the attempt. While it was possible that the assassination was attempted by the cup bearer, it seemed… unlikely. Sure, some people were willing to lay down their lives to accomplish such a goal, but at the same time surely they would have waited until Clovis had a swig, right?
Clovis had basically made the poison testing role of the cup bearer obsolete for quite a while- he drank quite a lot, and it was only good fortune that led to the girl drank first. Of course, he changed his mind about taste testing rather quickly, and he put many more checks in place to prevent such an assassination from happening again.
For the first time in years, Clovis slept alone- could he trust anyone?- and he woke up covered in cold sweat, haunted by nightmares, bloodstained steps in the Aries Villa… He usually drank or busied himself with the fairer sex to forget this sort of thing, but with a potential assassin creeping around, he was left with an empty bed and a choking fear of his own mortality.
A short night's sleep didn't help him very much, but the following day they had several culprits, all of them Boer waitstaff. Perhaps a few days ago, Clovis would have only seen a collection of pretty girls (and some miscellaneous butlers and the like) but now… they were potential murderers. Dissidents.
As disturbed as Clovis was, his staff were as well. Other than the obvious unrest caused by an attempt on the Viceroy's life, they had never seen such a thunderous expression on the man's face. Where had the genteel dandy gone, and who had replaced him?
There was terrible harshness in those blue eyes, cold like the great icebergs far south of the Cape- and he spoke in a voice that sounded terribly like his father's. "Protecting the Cape Colony is our greatest priority- we can no longer tolerate any Boer rebels. We must bring them to heel, once and for all."
It was good to be back in Sicily, althogh Lelouch would have to check on how the Sicilian parliament was running their particular portion of the Italian state.. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in republican government (he had installed one in Italy proper, after all), just that he wanted to make sure his homeland was being managed properly.
A ferry crossing brought them across the narrow strait, and they were in Messina, in Sicily, at last. Even if business brought him to Rome and Venice, Sicily was his home more than England would ever be. Admittedly, Lelouch hadn't seen much of England outside of London, and despite the city's size most of Lelouch's memories of the city (at least the portions he caught outside of the pristine villas) involved smoke and filth. How did that poet, William Blake describe it? Those dark Satanic mills?
Perhaps it was hypocritical to dislike London for the smog only to turn around and build the same sort of polluting factories in Italy, but if he wanted Italy to be more than a Britannian puppet state, that meant biting the bullet and engaging in industrialization. At the very least, if he was going to cover Italy in factories, the least he could do was make the conditions tolerable.
Sicily also happened to be the portion of Italy that was most used to him- they had grown accustomed to him for a majority of his life, so they would probably be the most willing to cooperate with his ideas about the fasci leagues.
Honestly, Lelouch thought it would be best to just lay the most basic of foundations and then let the people do the rest. Make it clear that cooperatives were tolerated, even encouraged, and let the people do the rest. He would never understand the worker's needs as well as the workers would- better to let them gather up, form their own unions, and express concerns that way than try to guess what people wanted with no evidence. He wasn't omniscient after all.
Kallen was not completely unfamiliar with guns- even with the peace brought on by the Tokugawa shogunate, guns were still used on a small scale. Weapons as powerful as those could not be forgotten, even if they were no longer produced in the astounding Sengoku era numbers.
Still, she had no chance to handle any such weapons while on Dejima- she was supposed to be a proper lady, after all- and wasn't not like she could get her hands on one during their trip to Italy either. If she had one in the Cape she would have done everyone a favor and shot the Viceroy of the Cape.
On the other hand the Viceroy of Italy, Prince Lelouch, had no shortage of guns- thousands of rifles and strange little oblong bullets to fire from them. From what she had heard, the Prince was encouraging the distribution of firearms to the Italian people, selling them fairly cheaply and urging people to practice with them.
She was fascinated: guns were an incredibly powerful tool, changing the world in incredible ways- incredible in a terrible, terrible sense. It was hard to imagine all the blood black powder and shot had spilled, but it was an equalizer- if you could shoot, you were a threat. Man, woman, noble or lowly serf, it didn't matter. In a more symbolic sense, a gun was agency. It was power.
Her father wasn't just going to give her a gun, but she managed to spin it in a way he found acceptable. Perhaps it wasn't the most feminine of pursuits, but hunting was a respectable one, relatively martial. The sort of thing that would show people she wasn't just a flushing ingenue- the future Lady Stadtfeld would confident, bold, and above all, a keen shot.
Or that was the hope at least. Her father was not much of a hunter, but he proved surprisingly supportive of her ambitions once she had phrased them the right way. Kallen's stepmother didn't approve, because of course she didn't, but her real mother was supportive- well, as supportive as she could be.
So Kallen started hunting when her father wasn't trying to teach her the intricacies of stewardship or running a mercantile venture. Unsurprisingly, she wasn't a very good shot at first, but it was something to concentrate her energies on. The buck of the gun against her shoulder, the smell of spent powder… It felt so practical, so tangible. She could appreciate the value of mercantile ventures, but if she had to make a choice between working with rifles or registries- well, the choice was obvious.
Her real mother was more than happy to cook any game she killed, so that was nice. Her stepmother may have been glaring at her over the venison, but Kallen had gotten very used to ignoring her father's… beloved wife.
Marianne vi Britannia was buried in Sicily, and while it felt like a bit of a snub by the Britannian nobility (because it was), Lelouch was glad to know that his mother was buried in her homeland. She was actually buried in the Norman Palace- Lelouch had pushed to have her buried in one of the palace's courtyards. The rest of the empire may have denied her imperial graces, but in death she lay in a palace that had once held princes and emperors.
It was in some ways a reminder to Lelouch, when he planned for his great expedition to seize Italy: he would be rewarded with incredible, borderline royal power- or death. Rather obviously, he had succeeded in unifying Italy, but as of yet he hadn't managed to wriggle his way out of Britannian influence. He supposed that death would have done that, but his own death was unacceptable until Nunnally's situation was completely secure.
His mother's grave was covered in a bed of white flowers, belying the bloodshed that had ended her life. Lelouch knew next to nothing about his mother's family, the sort of people who had sired and raised her… his mother had suddenly gone from being a common soldier to a key figure in the Sicilian government- Lelouch was smart, but even he couldn't serve as Viceroy as a toddler, so his mother served as regent. Despite her precedence and sway, she never got into contact with her old family, and Lelouch knew nothing. So he and Nunnally were mostly alone- except for Ashford and Jeremiah.
Cornelia knelt down, resting her gloved hands in the bed of pale flowers. "This… this is where she was buried?"
"Yes." Lelouch crouched down next to her. "I know she had a life of her own before giving birth to me, maybe even a family she could be buried with… but so many of my fondest memories with her take place here."
"And none at Aries Villa?"
"I never said that- just that I couldn't think of a better place to have my mother buried." He gulped, his throat suddenly dry. "It's home, after all."
They spent quite a bit of time mourning in silence, remembering one of the most influential people in their lives. Even Jeremiah came to join them for a moment- his relationship with Marianne was very different from theirs, but she left a gaping hole in all their lives all the same.
Still, Lelouch couldn't let grief consume his entire life. He had a country to rule, an army to head, and living family members to protect; he would never let himself be that powerless ever again.
For now that meant going out to talk with the people of Sicily- Lelouch needed to sell the idea of the leagues to them, after all.
Euphemia was coming along- indulging her curiosity was all well and good, but introducing Euphemia to the people and vice versa would hopefully be beneficial overall. Perhaps Lelouch was a little biased, but he was of the opinion that it was very hard not to like his pink haired sister, not to mention getting her to like the Italians back.
With his guards in tow, he made his way to the place where unions would most naturally spring up- the factories. He supposed that just popping in on the factories would probably cause a notable dip in the day's production, but it would hopefully help the worker's spirits. The French Revolution may have shown just how… vitriolic people could be towards a king who managed to truly enrage them, but Lelouch liked to think he had a better relationship with Sicily than that.
The factories were on the outskirts of the city, in part to avoid potential pollution and choking smoke, but also to make sure they had plenty of room to expand as they pleased- with very careful planning, of course. He would have no ramshackle, chaotic towns build as they went along- they were woefully inefficient.
Lelouch was familiar with factories, for rather obvious reasons, but Euphemia was… less so. Certainly reasonable given her isolated upbringing, but it didn't quite occur to him how… shocking a factory could be for someone who wasn't familiar with them.
Most notably, they were quite loud and very crowded, and the moment Euphemia stepped through the door she flinched back. "It's quite loud, isn't it?" Her voice was a little subdued, and it was rather hard to hear over the sound of textile machines humming away.
"Yes- an unfortunate consequence of progress." Perhaps a measure needed to be taken? Some sort of protection for the ears, perhaps? Maybe the workers got used it- it would be best to just ask, after all.
A wave seemed to spread through the factory, radiating from their sudden entrance. Presumably, they didn't get many visitors of such caliber, dressed in royal finery compared to the plain clothes the workers wore (and the ones they produced). The soldiers guarding them probably played a role in that reaction as well.
After a few moments of disbelief and quiet staring, someone rushed forward, a thin looking man who Lelouch vaguely recognized as one of the men he had designated to manage these factories way back when he first started building them. He was fairly competent and well educated, as he remembered, but Lelouch didn't know how the man treated his workers.
"Your highness, what a pleasant surprise! It is a pleasure to see you again, and your…" his voice trailed off as he looked at Euphemia, his eyes fixed on her… notable hair.
Lelouch smiled. "This is my younger sister, Euphemia. Princess of Britannia." The muttering kicked up a notch at that- it wasn't very often that you saw not one, but two members of the Imperial family slumming it with the common worker.
"What business brings your Highnesses to our factory?" Lelouch could see a faint trail of sweat on his face, his eyes flitting to the guards behind Lelouch. Heh. Of course, all of those guards were solely for their protection, but from the manager's view… yikes. Instilling fear in men's hearts wasn't high on Lelouch's list of priorities, but if the man deserved it… he deserved it.
"I'd like to talk with the some of the workers, if that's permissible." The manager sagged in relief as Lelouch continued. "Any of them would be fine, I suppose."
After a quick nod, the man walked deeper into the depths of the factory and returned with a few workers by his side, who broke into a rough collection of curtsies and bows.
"If it isn't too much of a bother, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your working conditions-" Before Lelouch could start a fascinating discussion about the life of the Italian textile worker, he was cut off by a sound that cut through the air, audible above the humming of the machines. A scream.
Lelouch froze for a moment before he rushed off in the direction of the sound, which had been cut worryingly short. Some of his guards followed behind him, pushing their way through the factory. Faintly, Lelouch realized that some of the people he was brushing past were… noticeably smaller than usual.
In fact, the victim of the factory accident was unusually small as well. With a plummeting feeling in his stomach, Lelouch realized that the horribly mangled leg was attached to a child. He turned to his guards. "Get this child outside- to a doctor!"
Without realizing it, Lelouch had started breathing heavily- he wasn't physically tired, just a matter of very bad memories. He could almost feel his face paling, to match the pallor of Euphemia's face. Faintly, he realized that a long smear of blood had made its way onto the fine fabric of his sister's dress.
Now admittedly, he knew that factory accidents were something that happened- the machines were frequently large and clumsy, and it was bound to happen eventually. It was an unfortunate consequence of industrialization- but that didn't calm the roiling in his gut. What future did that child have? How would they live, how would they provide for themselves? On the bright side, it was only one bad leg- Nunnally had two bad legs, but she also had royal blood- meaning she had a much easier life than the average man. Maybe he could set up a fund for this sort of thing? Was it that frequent?
Euphemia was gripping her dress tightly, her hands white. "Is… is this common, Lelouch?"
"I'm not sure." Lelouch turned to the owner, who was rapidly paling. "Would you be kind enough to enlighten us?"
Lord Ashford had a bit of trouble finding Lelouch- he had expected the prince to be in Venice, but it turned out he was going on a grand tour of the countryside. Tracking him down was a bit of an issue, but in time he followed the prince's trail down the coast of Italy (selling Britannian manufactured goods as he went, of course) back to Sicily.
One interesting thing he noticed while sailing about Italy and while talking to fellow traders in harbor was that there was growing interest in North Africa. Of course, Ashford knew full well that Lelouch had succeeded on that front, but he had trouble thinking of them as an acceptable market- long years of sailing routes to Sicily had ingrained if not a fear, a near instinctual avoidance of the Barbary Coast.
Faintly, he could see factories in the distance, spotting the Sicilian landscape near Palermo. It hadn't reached anywhere near the levels of London, but Sicily produced her fair share of manufactured goods, and mainland Italy was beginning to follow that trend, if sluggishly.
Perhaps a new trade route was about to be born, between the verdant coasts of northern Africa and the first factories of Italy- it would certainly be a better route to ply if things between Italy and Britannia ever got… dicey. Perhaps that would never happen, but his merchant instincts drove him to exploit new markets in the Maghreb anyways.
Still, his business was with his Prince, so that meant he found himself back in Sicily. However, once he had made himself facing two Princesses- Cornelia and Nunnally. He couldn't help but smile when he saw them, but he also had business to handle.
"Could you tell me where Prince Lelouch is?"
Cornelia rolled her eyes. "He's off on some misadventure near the factories. He wants to encourage trade unions, apparently." Ashford almost smiled- Lelouch was in some ways predictably random, or perhaps he just marched to the beat of his own unique drum.
"I think it's a good idea- what are we without the people below us, after all?" Ashford felt that familiar fatherly fondness bubbling up in his chest. Marianne's daughter suffered through so much, but stayed respectful and caring in spite of that- or perhaps because of it. It would be rather hypocritical to look down on the sort of common people who cared for you night and day.
After a bit more questioning, Ashford had a vague idea of where his prince was, and he began to head in that direction. He didn't make it out of the palace when he ran into Euphemia and Lelouch, who were looking unusually pale. After a few moments of silent staring at his face, Lelouch seemed to snap back to awareness and greeted him. "Reuben- it's good to see you again."
"Lelouch." Ashford went to embrace him, and he could feel a certain stiffness in Lelouch's shoulders- those shoulders carried tremendous weight from a young age, but something seemed different, a greater tightness than usual.
"Lelouch?"
"We went down to the factories, and a child got mauled. Apparently, it happens every so often to both children and adults."
"And what do you plan on doing about it?"
Euphemia spoke up, as well, her voice filled with a determination Reuben didn't usually associated with the relatively mild princess. "We're going to encourage the unions, get the parliament to pass laws making them much safer… we just can't let this happen again."
Reuben almost smiled- he restricted himself, knowing full well it wouldn't be in good taste, but he had a feeling that Euphemia took after her sister in more than just beauty- there was grit and determination in there, even if directed towards more peaceful goals instead of warfare.
Earl Asplund was overseeing the construction of railways, as the prince ordered. He definitely wanted to get back to working on the screw propeller, but constructing the railroads was another curiosity. There was something very tempting about building the country's railroads from the ground up- there was nothing he loved more than laying down the foundations of something new.
Honestly, it was very possible that he could have gotten better pay somewhere else, especially outside of the Britannian Empire. It would be so easy to hop the border and start selling industrial designs to other powers, but that sort of thing came with tremendous expectations. Sure, Prince Lelouch also had expectations (that's why he was working with rails now) but the prince seemed genuinely enthusiastic about most of his inventions, even the ones that distracted Lloyd (well, all of them did, but still). Not just enthusiasm for what would benefit him immediately, but a genuine passion for the future in all its strange shapes.
Lloyd had a number of unpleasant experiences with people who tried to limit his genius to just one area, and got upset when he even started doing something else. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life building row upon row of boring factories- would any other prince let him make hot air balloons, exploding shell guns, or rifled pieces? Yes, probably, since they were valuable on a military level, but the point still stood in other, less practical areas.
Lloyd had a feeling that sticking by Lelouch's side, at least for now, would give him fertile ground for new inventions. There were so many thousands of ways that he could change the world, and the prince saw that. Perhaps there was some all consuming project in his future, something that would completely overshadow his other pursuits, but for now… his interests were wide. The world was changing in so many ways!
Passenger cars for trains were an interesting pursuit, and Lloyd genuinely believed that they would revolutionize transport. Say goodbye to the wagon and the horse, say hello to the train! For now, that meant keeping things like railroad gauge (that is, the distance between the two tracks) constant across the country. If you had to swap from one gauge to another, that basically meant swapping your passengers and cargo from one car to another- a waste of time and money that could be easily avoided with a national standard.
Speaking of, there was the Italian Senate, which ruled from Rome. Lloyd didn't know anything about them at all (he didn't even vote, not that he really cared. Could he even vote?) and he was glad that Lelouch kept them off his back, even if they couldn't escape their budgeting efforts.
He was impatient to return to working on the screw propeller, but he would have to work through a lot of potential designs. A large scale steam ship using a propeller had never been seen before, much less specifically designed for war. Lloyd was filling page after page with intricate designs- should it be a low-lying ship that just barely sat above the water, or a mighty craft with multiple turrets? Was that even practical?
Lloyd Asplund was a very intelligent man, but at the same time he was as human as any other- he had desires, he had wants and needs, and idiosyncrasies. Definitely something of an eccentric, but he was still predictable in his own strange way.
Telling Lloyd that he couldn't do something was a bad idea- or at least forbidding it straight out. However, if Lelouch redirected blame for budget cuts onto the parliament, he could look like he was trying his best to keep Lloyd on in spite of the Senate. Lelouch wasn't Lloyd's enemy- they were in a shared battle against Senatorial oversight. Or at least that was the impression that Lelouch gave his main scientist.
Sometimes, it seemed like the man had it pretty good- all he needed to do was sit down and invent and create, while Lelouch was stuck playing politics. Politicking was exhausting, but Lelouch knew it was necessary, and he needed to keep a very close eye on any potential threats or opportunities- like this mess in the Low Countries.
Lelouch was surprised by the news of the Belgian revolt- it wasn't completely unexpected wasn't, but it would a marvelous learning experience, and something of a test run. How would Europe react to this new revolution? He may have to emulate them. What would the powers of Europe do to this new, Catholic state? Would it be destroyed, or would it be reshaped into a "proper" absolutist monarchy?
Seeing Britannia starting to abandon her isolationism worried Lelouch- he did not want to see Britannia getting cozy with France in particular. Seeing those two united against him would make things very messy, and give Britannia an overland route to Italy, making seizing Gibraltar completely pointless. Fortunately, the relationship between those two states had always been… rocky.
At the same time, Lelouch was a (relatively) lowly Viceroy, and he couldn't just go around poking his nose into international affairs like the Belgian conference. As infuriating as it was, all he could he do was sit back and watch, to learn from the Belgian's failures and successes as best as he could.
Perhaps another constitutional state would join the world- if Belgium gained its independence and didn't kick up a fuss, it would show the other powers that liberalism wasn't synonymous with raving revolutionaries beheading monarchs on the streets of Paris.
As he considered the eventual answer to the Belgian question, a Parisian newspaper in this hands, there was a knocking at his door and Jeremiah leaned in. "Your highness- you have a visitor from the Septinsular Republic. Shall I let him in?"
The Septinsular Republic? Curious. "Let them in, please."
The man reminded Lelouch of Jeremiah- broad-shouldered, tall, and with a certain bearing about him, the sort of self confidence Lelouch saw so often in the nobility. Whether that confidence was founded or not was another matter entirely.
For a moment, Lelouch wondered if he would need a translator- he didn't speak Greek- but the man spoke in understandable Italian, even if he had a noticeable Venetian accent to his voice. "Your… highness. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ioannis, and I've heard much of your exploits back in Ionia."
"My reputation proceeds me," Lelouch chuckled. "You speak remarkable Italian- are you of Venetian descent?"
"Yes- before the French came, Ionia was under the control of the Serenissima, the Serene Republic."
"Venice's legacy lives even if the state does not. If memory serves, you are under Ottoman protection?"
"Yes, and to a much greater extent than the Barbary states," he sighed. "Several of my fellow nobles were interested in opening up diplomatic relations with you- with Italy."
"Well, I'm not completely opposed, but I'll have to hear what you and your compatriots need from me. I have no interest in reclaiming Venetian lands- my father would be very displeased if I started a war with the Turks."
"Of course, I didn't come here to urge you to war. I came to talk about something a bit more… mutually beneficial."
"Then are you interested in trade? This is novel- someone asking to open up trade with Italy without having been bombarded."
Lelouch was met with a razor-thin smile. "Well, I suppose we can talk about the specifics of the agreement later- I'm personally interested in politics."
"Politics, in this day and age? Very contentious choice, good sir."
Ioannis laughed. "A dangerous subject, sure, but an important one. These questions need to be answered, don't they?"
"Is the Tsar's answer not sufficient for you? The Sultan's?"
"Perhaps not- you certainly don't seem to think so. Parliamentarianism, elected officials- Italy is a far cry from your own Britannia."
"I'm my own Viceroy. I can rule my domain as I see fit- and from the beginning, Britannian Sicily had to be a constitutional monarchy. I can't go back on that, can I?"
"I suppose you can't… but I feel that you believe in something other than despotism, and you're not alone."
Lelouch couldn't help but smile. It was easy to paint with broad strokes, to think of all nobility as backwards, but that wasn't the case- like that Marquis of Lafayette who fought with Washington. "Surely, not all of your fellow nobility think so?"
"Perhaps not, but you must understand that my fellows aren't in the greatest position. We're Italians ruling Greeks who are increasingly aware of their Grecian identity. I think that my fellow nobles would be amenable given the right circumstances."
"Perhaps- dire circumstances cause the strangest changes in men."
Of course, not every ruler in Europe supported unions or republicanism, and for good reason. The memory of the French revolution and that dread tricolor was still fresh, and all the great princes of Europe (with a view notable exceptions) were keeping careful eyes on their populations, knowing full well that any farmer or craftsman could be warped into a raving sans-cullote determined to destroy the old order of Europe. Not to mention that mess in Italy- that was the terrible power of nationalism.
This was not a job that could be done alone, quite obviously- so they began taking steps to… handle these issues. Across Europe, covert steps were being taken to dissuade revolutionary activity. That is, secret police organizations were being formed to crush revolutionary sentiments wherever they would crop up, especially in the press.
Perhaps such organizations were cruel or overly violent- but no one in power wanted to share the grisly fate of Louis XVI. The Habsburgs in particular found themselves keeping a very close eye on the Italians still inside their realm- they weren't quite as inflammatory as before, but they didn't want what remained of their Italian holdings falling into vi Britannia's hands.
The great powers of Europe also recognized that they needed to take a proactive role in preventing that sort of thing- sitting idly by and letting the situation in other countries spin out of control was unacceptable. Internal and external policy were both required to keep the order of Europe, and maintain a general state of harmony.
So, they hoped to reach an agreement about the Belgian problem, and most of them had some stake in it. Of all of them, Russia was the least interested- other than the general issues brought on by a regency, they were far from the Low Countries. Other than a general discomfort with more revolutionary activity, they didn't have political interests in Belgium. The Germans fell into a similar vein, worrying about revolutionary sentiment over political interests, which just happened to be a lot closer to home.
Spain and the Empire of the Danube were interested in seeing a majority Catholic country come into the world, but were also concerned about their politics. They didn't want the country to be to liberal for obvious reasons- a proper king could do them some good- but at the same time if the people insisted on revolting it was better that they stayed independent rather than getting partitioned between France and the Netherlands.
France was keenly interested in the Walloon portions of the Low Countries, and across the Channel Britannia watched the situation with interest. They may have had a powerful navy, but that didn't mean that they wanted their closest neighbors hating them.
Britannia's foreign policy was very dependent on her (relative) isolation from the rest of Europe. It was so easy to turn away from the shores of Europe and look across the seas, to look towards the manifold jewels of their Empire… India, the Cape, all the countless colonies of the Americas… When Britannia turned back to glance at Europe during the heights of the Revolution, they were horrified by what they saw.
Republicanism was bad enough- Britannia was a staunchly absolutist state, after all- but the sheer excesses of it all were horrifying, and all too reminiscent of the old English Civil War, yet in some ways much worse. Both had a monarch killed by his own people, but the brutal efficiency of the guillotine, slick wood stained red with the blood of princes and nobles… those were completely novel. And completely horrifying.
It reminded Britannia that for all her imperial splendor, the homeland was only twenty miles from an exceedingly hostile power, and it only got worse once the French started winning. For a few terrible moments, flight from the homeland itself was considered, but fortunately things never went that far. Still, it was a vicious reminder- the lands across the Channel would make a perfect springboard for invasion, a knife pointed directly at the empire's throbbing heart.
How could Britannia not take interest in this new disaster in the Low Countries? Not being involved in the post-Revolutionary peace was embarrassing, even if Prince Lelouch participated. A little provincial Viceroy did more to shape Europe than the Emperor himself- so they couldn't pass up the chance to involve themselves in a more official capacity.
However, that didn't mean that the other powers were very fond of them. Britannia had not won herself many friends in Europe recently, even if their relationship with Russia was slowly mending. Spain was quite reasonably upset with Britannia's colonial meddling, and France and Great Britain had an animosity that was much older than the revolution.
Britannia was already ruffling feathers when they insisted on maintaining the old title King of France- they had doggedly held onto that title through the flames of revolution, and it almost immediately restarted Franco-British relations on the wrong foot. Perhaps it was just a feather in the emperor's hat, so to speak… but now Britannia breathed down their neck from over the Alps. The prospect of a war on two fronts was never appealing, especially for kings who had only been restored to the throne quite recently.
So the Britannia ambassadors were receiving no small number of veiled glances from the French delegation, and the Spanish had a similar sentiment, even if for different reasons. After a few moments, one of the Spanish diplomats made their way over to the Britannian delegation, and asked a simple question: "What of our colonies?"
Of course, in the same way Britannia maintained her claim to to the crown of France, Spain maintained her claims to her numerous colonial territories- and they had a lot more riding on their claims than just France, not to say that the lands of France were insignificant by any stretch of the imagination, just that Spain's colonies were more important to her, relatively, than the addition of France would be to Britannia.
Still, the colonies had gotten very uppity very quickly, and while it could never be proven, it wasn't too far of a leap to think that Britannia had decided that the Spanish should be… repaid in kind for aiding Washington. Honestly, it was downright beautiful- provoke revolt only to use those said revolts as an excuse to leap in and keep the peace.
The Empire of the Danube found themselves worrying about Britannian interests in Italy, not to mention the way that Britannia had been more than happy to leave them high and dry once they had snatched Sicily and made a deal with the revolutionary devil. This general discomfort was shared by the Germans, meaning that the power most likely to be in Britannia's corner was Russia. The Netherlands technically owed Britannia for the return of their monarch, at least.
Things were going to go great.
Pietro knew a bit about Rome. He was no educated historical scholar, capable of rattling off lists of Emperors or grand military campaigns, but he would have needed to be an idiot to miss how much of his life was impacted by that ancient state. Italian was descended from Latin, not to mention the Roman roads and aqueducts which filled the countryside.
The Viceroyalty of Italy took her fair share of inspiration from the old Roman state- their Senate was clearly inspired by the old Roman one. Unfortunately for Pietro, they had also taken some inspiration from Rome when it came to the army, as Prince Lelouch urged them to work on construction and field works.
How did the Romans do it? Marching around all day only to sit down and build a fortress at the end of it- it was obscene! Plus, some of their orders were extremely weird- honestly, Pietro had spent time wondering if those code ciphers the officers were using were just an excuse for bad pranks. What possible tactical use was there for cutting down trees?
Moving the logs around was a pain as well- they were clumsy things, very heavy and very long, and their station meant they were carrying them up and down rugged hills. Still, the prince had asked for defensive works near the Alps, and that was what he would get- even if Pietro's arms felt like they were on fire every night.
He put his all into the work for very good reason, though. His station near the Alps was a constant reminder that potential enemies of the state waited just over the horizon. Off to the west there were the French, of course, but his fears were based around the Danubian armies.
So, he was more than happy to work on digging ditches or preparing blockhouses- small buildings filled with loopholes for guns- in case of invasion. A blockhouse would be blown to pieces under a real bombardment, of course, but they certainly didn't have the resources to start building up big stone fortresses with complex geometry and all that. In some places old bastion forts still stood, and they seized on those when they could, but in other strategic areas… they dug.
Some macabre part of him wondered if he was quite literally digging his own grave, but he had to admit that hiding in a trench and shooting at the enemy sounded a lot safer than standing in a big line in the middle of open ground. He could shoot at someone's entire body while they were charging, and all they would get is a shot at is a tiny portion of his head.
The part of him that reveled in destruction wondered what would happen if he pointed their brand new rifled guns at one of those old stone forts, but he couldn't even begin to imagine how much trouble he would get into if he tried that.
Chapter Theme: The 1800s sucked. For real though, I suppose it's more like people uniting and being split apart. The unions, obviously, but the the powers of Europe getting together, while Britannia is isolated. In a similar vein, Clovis lays plans to separate the Boers from the Cape. So the chapter title relates to that theme of unity. Lots of unity theming recently, but I suppose this is an era of great movements.
Something that fascinates me about Clovis is how easily he results to the heights of violence. Admittedly, he was covering up something very important, but… holy crap. He ordered the deaths of thousands in the original. Personally, I interpret him as someone who is very afraid of death- the experiments on CC, the fascination with trying to find his missing siblings, the general rakishness… It all seems like a man who was confronted with the possibility of death at a young age and is fleeing from it. IDK, just a personal interpretation.
Suffering is having a bunch of really kickass chapter titles in your head, but not being anywhere near that point in the story.
I'm thinking of doing more period pieces in the future even if the research is a pain- I'm missing out on a lot of fun late 19th century stuff. If you guys have any periods or settings you'd be interested in reading about, drop a review. The introduction of gunpowder is always fun, but I enjoyed exploring ideas of industrialization and political change in this fic… I'm not sure if abbreviating it as LoR is appropriate.
Speaking of other fic ideas, I recently thought up something along the lines of Lelouch being a military attache to Japan when they're attempting to modernize and industrialize. Other than letting me explore some interesting inventions, seeing Kaguya is fun. If I ever start writing that, it's gonna be a while down the road. Tell me if you think the idea's good, I suppose. Maybe some sort of historical insert? Lelouch bites it and wakes up in the body of some historical figure? Could be fun.
As always, thank you for reading my mad ramblings.