Snow drifted gently across the rooftops of Oberfeld, cloaking the city in a quiet, regal white. Within the stone walls of the new Iron Crown High Council Chamber, once a governor's estate, the air was charged with urgency.
Hans stood at the head of a long oak table. Behind him, the gilded banner of the Iron Crown fluttered slightly in the draft. Gold and crimson, it bore the ancient sigil of a crowned eagle – reborn now as the standard of a rising monarchist power.
"The situation is shifting," Colonel Engelhardt muttered beside him, tapping a leather-bound file. "Half of the council sees your fury in Geneva as a threat. The other half... is beginning to admire you."
"As they should," Albrecht said, arms crossed, eyes glinting. "They've witnessed a leader who doesn't bow. Who protects, while they posture."
Hans exhaled sharply. "We won the room, not the war. Not yet."
News from the east arrived like smoke under a door. The last democratic bastion in Poland – the State of Wielowicz – had officially requested an alliance. Their leader, a weathered stateswoman named Magdalena Sobańska, had sent a sealed letter addressed personally to Hans:
We have called for help for over a year. The Coalition ignored us. You did not. Come, and we shall stand together.
The chamber went silent after he read the letter aloud.
"They see what Europe is becoming," whispered Engelhardt. "They see you as something more than warlord."
Hans looked up. "We will answer. Prepare a diplomatic envoy. And two brigades. Peace is best kept when it's armored."
Two Days Later – Geneva
Despite the icy tension, the Coalition had agreed to a closed summit. But this time, only guild leaders were permitted. Mehmed arrived first, flanked by two silent Turkish aides. Then came Prime Envoy Boros of Hungary. Each of them made their quiet greetings with Hans.
The American and Japanese delegations arrived late. Their expressions were unreadable. From the moment they entered, Hans felt their scrutiny. The Swiss moderator gave a few polite words, and the meeting began.
"We have seen your mobilization into Poland," the Japanese guildmaster began. "It violates the Neutral State Pact."
Hans kept his eyes cold. "There was no pact. Only ignorance. They called for help. I answered."
The American leaned forward. "Some might say you use 'requests for help' as excuses for expansion."
Hans slammed his palm on the table. "And what have you done?! WHO HELPED MEHMED? I DID! WHO PULLED HUNGARY FROM ANARCHY? I DID! You sat in safety while we bled!"
There was a hush.
Mehmed spoke softly. "Hans did what no coalition vote ever could. He stabilized Europe, piece by piece."
Prime Envoy Boros nodded. "And what will you do? Issue sanctions while Vienna holds?"
One of the Swedish guildmasters stammered, "B-but I, uh, I mean, maybe we should reconsider our stance—"
Hans stood, eyes burning. "Why are the Americans and Japanese even here? This is a European matter. This is our soil."
The moderator tried to interject. "Please, this is a unified guild gathering, Hans—"
"Unified in name. Divided in action."
He stepped back from the table.
"Europe is bleeding," he said. "And you let it bleed. But I won't. I will restore it. With or without your approval."
Without another word, Hans turned and walked out. Mehmed and Boros followed seconds later.
Inside the chamber, half the guilds sat stunned. The other half… began to murmur.
Back in Oberfeld
Hans sat before a hearth, the sealed Polish reply in hand. An invitation to Kraków. A step toward a united eastern front.
Engelhardt entered, saluting. "Sir. France and Slovakia have requested observers to join future Iron Crown talks."
Hans looked into the fire.
"Then let them come. The age of monarchs and freedom is not dead. It's being reborn."