T/N: In this chapter we get to see the production process of the letter Maria was reading. And more Prussia! Three cheers for the glorious Prussia! Pssh, I don't even deny the fact that I'm one of those despicable die-hard Prussia fangirl scum.
Also, the next update won't be until after mid-June because of exams.
Also, I've been going through the entire fic and the staggering amount of research in history in this fic never ceases to astound me. All the human characters mentioned in this fic, like generals, soldiers, etc. are real people in history. You'll see more of them in later chapters. And well, sorry that there isn't much going on in these couple of chapters, because the PruAus action doesn't really show in this fic in the beginning. There's a lot more coming, that I can promise.
Oh, and to vgfdg and verity, who posted guest reviews, I just wanted to say thank you for your kind words, and to add that the art makes the fic all the more beautiful. And yes, this fic is super long, but I plan on working long-term on this.
People, if you haven't seen the art for this fic, look them up! I might even make a photobucket album for them, if I have the time. The art is amazing. Okay, enough talk, now, fic.
:: Two ::
Three days ago, Berlin.
Frederick folded the letter into a long neat rectangle with practised ease, pressing it flat with slim fingers, before slipping it into a dull yellow envelope. Slathering some beeswax on the flap of the envelope, he carefully pressed his royal seal upon the wax. The king seemed to enjoy this mechanical labour, and upon the completion of his work, he extended his arm to better study his handiwork.
Gilbert lay stretched out on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. Frederick's self-absorbed actions reflected off his crimson eyes, and he gave a guffaw of amusement at his antics.
"You are unhappy?" said the young king, without looking at his friend.
"It isn't a matter of whether I am happy or not, only a matter of why you wanted me specifically to write that letter." He replied lazily. He'd planned to hunt deer in the Potsdam forest this morning, but the king had requested at the breakfast table for him not to go anywhere for one day. After breakfast, a draft had been shoved into his hand. "Copy this letter," Frederick had said.
Gilbert had lowered his gaze and read the title of the draft. It had said, Your Grace, the Duchess of Lorraine, Maria Theresa. Frederick had not referred to her as Queen of Austria, which implied Prussia's stance.
"I had you write it, naturally, because your handwriting is excellent." Frederick said. "That, and you already know that I sprained my wrist in September." He punctuated his sentence with a smirk directed at Gilbert.
"When you play your beloved flute you don't seem to feel pain of any sort. All right, old fellow, don't act like you know more than me – you're still a brat."
"Then why do you pretend you do not understand, my dear Gilbert?" The king's brown eyes were bottomless. "You know in your heart for whom you're writing this letter for."
A sudden silence came over the room. Gilbert stared at the twenty-eight-year-old king. Frederick had a pretty, delicate face, framed with soft fair curls, and his dark blue velvet jacket made his pale skin stark. Compared with his father, whose interests were in militarising the country, he evidently preferred to pursue literature and art. Before the age of eighteen, if he had a choice, he would never be holding a weapon. The truth was, it was only when he was having a portrait painted that his father would roar "Give him the sword and the flag!" and glare at his son to arrange his limbs into a heroic pose fitting of the bravest warrior.
"You've changed, Frederick – in the past you were more like a Frenchman, but now, you are a true Prussian."
The king shook his head. "No, I have not changed. In the past, there was not a moment when I was not fervently wishing that I was born on that patch of land, but now I know the blood that flows in me can only be Prussian blood. I chose to accept fate, nothing more. You should be proud, my friend. You once said that you hated Frenchmen the most." That was a smile so blinding it was unnatural, almost joking. Perhaps, the true intention of the speaker really was just to joke.
"That's right. I hate the French, especially that pretentious Francis Bonnefoy. But that is not the point, Frederick. I want to know what the heck are you doing this time."
Frederick did not answer, instead choosing to put down the envelope he had been playing with the entire time, and picking up the pen that Gilbert has just written the letter with.
"You see this?" His hand stroked the pearl embedded on the pen. In a moment, the youth who looked gentle and powerless ripped the gem from the end of the pen.
"Are you mad?" Gilbert leapt up, but his companion kept his face straight, held up the pearl between index finger and thumb, and went on.
"Pearls, they shall be set on your crown, just as certainly as ripe apples will fall from their branches upon the ground, or as surely the waters of a hundred rivers will converge in one ocean."
"I retract my previous words. You evidently still retain the goddamned theatrics of a Frenchman."
"Then allow me to put this another way, my friend," said the king, standing and coming before Gilbert. "If you like something, then seize it at once. Lawyers – those can be taken care of afterwards."
That pool which looked so calm was not water, but oil! Just one tiny spark could ignite it entirely, and spread uncontrollably. Raging flames flickered in the king's eyes. Gilbert could not help thinking that he was always stuck in a never-ending play with the other, and that in Frederick's eyes, everyone was an actor in that grand play, including he himself.
"Silesia, it is yours. That is just the first step." Frederick placed the pearl into Gilbert's hand. "Do not forget the promise we made all those years ago."
"To witness with my own eyes, the unification of Germany, whether it be during your lifetime or not."
"It was on that condition you allowed me to ascend to the throne." The king adjusted his tone, and asked, "What about you, my friend – how are you going to keep this promise?"
"You should know that I am not that careless with my life to throw it away to make unwise gambles."
"Thank you." The king let out a laugh like a gasp of relief. "Then, let the two of us pay a visit to the venerable Prince Leopold."
"Visit the old Dessau fellow? Now?" Gilbert sent a confused glance his way.
The prince of Anhalt-Dessau, Leopold the First, as he was come to known, was a great soldier of Prussia, with many victories and accomplishments under his belt. His sons were also great soldiers, who served Prussia well. Even at his age, he still had his vigour and wit with him, and his experience in war was unrivalled. He, along with Schwerin, were not only Frederick's teachers, but also his right-hand men.
"You are correct," said the king. "We need to move our pawns in the right positions, so that when the opponent makes their move, we can immediately perform an en passant (1)."
Gilbert suddenly felt that he had not understood all of Frederick's intentions or motivations. That letter was only the opening to his intricately plotted stratagems – a basic setting.
"Of course, we can only corner them to an extent," the king muttered to himself. "Once the pawn becomes a queen, things quickly become complicated (2)." Deep in thought, he drew out an old, battered pocket-watch. On the shattered clock face, the unmoving hands pointed forever to a moment ten years ago.
Footnotes, as included in the original work.
1. It is a move in chess. It is a special pawn capture, which can only occur immediately after a pawn moves two ranks forward from its starting position, and an enemy pawn could have captured it had the pawn moved only one square forward. The opponent captures the just-moved pawn "as it passes" through the first square.
To perform this move, your pawn has to be on its fifth rank (i.e. five "steps" forward) and adjacent to the opponent's pawn. The opponent's pawn would have to be making an initial move, (i.e. the pawn has never been moved before) in order to move two "steps" ahead and for your pawn to make the capture.
So to put it simply, basically, Frederick is saying that if he places his pawns right (like, in the fifth rank in chess), at this moment ahead of time, then when Austria makes its first move (like the initial move in chess), its pawns will be captured by Prussia.
2. Pawns can become any piece that is not the king or a pawn when they reach the far edge across the board from where they started. Usually, the queen is the chosen piece, because it can move anywhere, unlike other pieces that can only move in certain directions or certain distances.