After the parade was over, Bruno found himself in a private conversation with the Kaiser far from the public eye. If there was ever a such thing as an after party to a military parade, this was it.
The palace beyond the Kaiser's private office was alive.
Laughter echoed through vaulted marble halls, carried on the clink of crystal and the rustle of silk and dress uniforms finally allowed to loosen.
Officers who only hours earlier had stood rigid at attention now spoke too loudly, their voices buoyed by victory and wine.
Nobles congratulated one another with practiced enthusiasm, trading stories of where they had been when the final communiqués arrived, as though proximity to triumph itself conferred distinction.
Music drifted from a distant salon, restrained and tasteful, yet unmistakably celebratory. Servants moved effortlessly between clusters of guests, refilling glasses before they were truly empty. The Reich was victorious, and tonight, it allowed itself to feel it.
