The Rise of German empire

Crown Prince William glared at Oscar across the room, his rage barely contained. His earlier attempts to undermine Oscar had been effortlessly deflected, leaving him seething with frustration. The queen's approval of Oscar's gift had only added insult to injury, shifting her perception of him in ways that William had never anticipated. What was supposed to be a night of asserting his superiority had instead turned into a humbling experience.

The other princes were not blind to the exchange. They watched the tension between the Crown Prince and Oscar unfold with growing unease. William's power, though formidable, was no match for the wealth and influence that Oscar had cultivated. It was a bitter pill for the royal family to swallow, as their own positions seemed increasingly fragile in comparison to Oscar's rising stature. The princes exchanged glances, their jealousy barely masked, yet they knew it was far too dangerous to openly challenge the man who seemed untouchable.

"I can't believe some people get so carried away by wealth, thinking they can do whatever they want," Crown Prince William sneered, breaking the silence. His voice dripped with condescension as he turned to Oscar, his words designed to provoke.

Oscar felt the sting of the remark but held his tongue. It was tempting to respond, to strike back with sharp words, but he resisted. The queen had made it clear that she did not want any further discord between her sons. Tonight was a test of restraint, a reminder that maintaining her favor was more important than engaging in petty quarrels.

Yet William, seeing that Oscar ignored him, became even more agitated. The sharpness in his voice increased as he continued, using his righteous tone to accuse Oscar of wastefulness. "The empire is facing a massive crisis. Enemies like Britain and France are closing in on us. The need for military expansion, especially the navy, is more urgent than ever. And yet, some princes—some members of the royal family—use their wealth for nothing more than lavish gifts instead of serving the empire."

His words were laden with accusation, each one a subtle jab aimed at Oscar. The Crown Prince painted a picture of the empire on the brink of war, and Oscar as a selfish aristocrat who squandered resources that should have been used for the nation's defense. It was a direct attack on his character, designed to provoke a response.

Oscar's eyes darkened, but he did not rise to the bait. Instead, his voice was calm, even slightly patronizing. "Your Highness, I use the money I earn to buy gifts for my mother. Is this a crime? How I choose to spend my wealth is my decision. You, as Crown Prince, are not the emperor yet, and even if you were, I would still have the right to manage my own affairs. As for the empire's defense, I will keep my promise and donate a battleship to the navy. I am fully aware of my duties as a prince, and I don't need anyone reminding me of them. Perhaps you should focus on your own contributions, Your Highness. When it comes to the empire's defense, I wonder what you've done lately."

There was no malice in Oscar's words, but they hit with surgical precision. His response left Crown Prince William speechless, his face turning a deep shade of red. The expression on the Crown Prince's face twisted in anger, but he found himself unable to retort. He had underestimated Oscar—what had once been a quiet, somewhat aloof man had now become a sharp adversary, one who wielded his words like weapons.

The room fell into a tense silence, with the other princes watching intently. Even the Queen, who had been trying to maintain peace, could not help but glance nervously at the exchange. She knew her sons all too well, and this public confrontation was a sign that the rift between them was growing wider, not narrower.

After a long pause, the Queen's voice rang out, breaking the silence. "Enough, both of you," she commanded, her tone firm. "This is not the time or the place for such quarrels. We are here to celebrate, not to fight."

Her words were final, and with a heavy heart, both men reluctantly backed down. The tension in the room remained thick, but the confrontation was over—for now. The mood, however, had already shifted. The royal family's festive gathering had been tainted by the open discord between its most powerful members, and it would take more than a few pleasantries to restore the illusion of unity.

As the dinner continued, the atmosphere was heavy, laden with the unspoken resentments of the royal family. Prince Wilhelm II did not attend, as he had prior engagements. Without him, there was no true patriarch to hold the family together. As the evening wore on, Oscar made his way to a side room to deliver his carefully prepared gift to Wilhelm II's representative, Karl's father. A well-crafted gesture, it showed Oscar's respect for the emperor, but it also served as a reminder that he was playing the long game—a game that involved much more than royal family squabbles.

At 6:30 p.m., the official dinner began in the grand banquet hall, filled with Germany's most powerful dignitaries and aristocrats. Oscar entered the hall alongside the Queen and her sons, drawing immediate attention. In the past, he had been little more than a shadow, often overlooked in favor of more prominent figures. But now, thanks to his success with the welfare lottery company, his presence commanded respect. Money, after all, spoke louder than titles, and his newfound wealth ensured that eyes were fixed on him as he moved through the room.

Soon, Emperor Wilhelm II made his entrance, and the room grew quiet in respect. His voice rang out with authority as he began his speech, addressing the gathering of Germany's elites.

"Everyone, you are the pillars of this great empire. Through your hard work and dedication, the German Empire has flourished. But even as we grow stronger, we must recognize that our external enemies—Britain, France, Russia—are ever more watchful, ever more resistant to our rise. We must continue to grow, to strengthen our military, so that we can secure our rightful place on the world stage. Only then will others dare to respect us."

His words stirred the room, and the diplomats in attendance from Britain, France, and Russia could not hide their discomfort. The idea of a stronger, more assertive Germany was a threat to their own national interests. As the atmosphere shifted from celebratory to tense, it became clear that the inevitable path to conflict was growing ever closer.

Oscar, standing quietly on the periphery, absorbed it all. He knew that war was coming. The expansion of Germany's military, particularly the navy, was a clear signal of things to come. The world was on the brink of something larger, and as much as Germany sought to gain respect through strength, it was unlikely that Britain, France, or Russia would simply watch from the sidelines.

The dinner continued, but Oscar remained deep in thought, his mind on the larger game that was unfolding. This was not just about royal rivalries—it was about positioning himself in a world that was on the verge of conflict, where alliances and power were in constant flux.

As the music began and the couples took to the dance floor, Oscar found himself approached by two prominent figures. Marshal Count Tirpitz, head of the German Navy, and Dean Ludwig Birkenhagen, the dean of the Kiel Naval Academy, stood behind him, their smiles polite but calculating.

"Your Highness," Marshal Tirpitz said, raising his glass in a toast. "Thank you for your continued support of the Imperial Navy. We will not forget your generosity."

Oscar turned to face them, his expression calm but thoughtful. "Your Excellency Marshal, Your Excellency the Dean, it is my honor to support the navy. The empire's strength depends on it."

The conversation was brief, but the weight of it lingered. The connections Oscar was making tonight were not just about socializing—they were about laying the groundwork for a future where he would be a key player in the empire's rise. And, perhaps, its eventual fall.