Inside one of the many luxurious private manors scattered across the noble district of the capital, a spacious living room exuded opulence that bordered on excess.
Thick velvet drapes in deep burgundy framed tall arched windows that overlooked meticulously manicured gardens, while a grand crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, its facets scattering soft rainbow light across walls paneled with rare dark wood inlaid with gold leaf patterns depicting ancient battles.
Plush armchairs upholstered in the finest imported silk surrounded a low table carved from a single massive piece of enchanted oak, its surface polished to a mirror shine. On the table rested an exquisite silver tea set steaming with fragrant herbal infusions, alongside plates of delicate pastries and crystal decanters filled with aged wine.
The air carried the faint scent of expensive incense and polished leather, creating an atmosphere of comfort and absolute privilege that stood in stark contrast to the suffering gripping the rest of Brastovia.
Seated comfortably around the table were three men in their late forties, all dressed in luxurious fine clothes that spoke of wealth accumulated through years of unchecked power.
Each carried the unmistakable air of arrogance and disdain, their postures relaxed as they sipped tea and laughed among themselves.
At the head position sat Minister Alexei, a plump man with a shiny bald head and a small, carefully trimmed beard that did little to hide the self-satisfied smirk permanently etched on his round face. His rich purple robes, embroidered with golden threads, strained slightly against his large belly as he lounged back in his chair like a king in his own domain.
One of the men on the left, Count Viktor Harlan, raised his delicate porcelain teacup and took a slow sip before speaking. He was a lean man with sharp features, slicked-back graying hair, and cold calculating eyes that always seemed to be weighing the value of everything around him.
His tailored black and silver coat hung perfectly on his slender frame. "Minister Alexei, I heard that the King summoned all officials and High Nobles to the palace. The meeting is supposed to be today. Why didn't you go?"
The man on the right, Baron Ludwig Krasner, nodded in agreement. He was stockier than the others, with a thick mustache, ruddy cheeks, and a jovial yet cruel temperament that masked his greed.
His deep green velvet jacket was adorned with numerous medals he had awarded himself over the years. "Yes, my lord, why didn't you attend? Aren't you afraid of the King's wrath?"
Minister Alexei set his teacup down with a soft clink and sneered, blowing gently across the surface of his fresh cup before taking a sip. "Why would I fear the wrath of that boy? The big players didn't bother showing up, so why should I? It's well known across the nation that the King's authority is no longer what it used to be."
Count Viktor and Baron Ludwig exchanged a quick glance before looking away, their expressions carefully neutral.
Viktor leaned forward slightly, swirling the tea in his cup. "But I still think you should have gone. Even if the King is just a naive little boy and the royal family is nearly extinct, showing a bit of respect might have been wise."
"Respect?" Minister Alexei let out a loud, mocking laugh that echoed through the luxurious room.
He leaned back in his chair, his belly shaking slightly as he gestured dismissively with one hand. "What kind of respect does that good-for-nothing King of ours deserve? Look at the current state of the nation! All the big shots are doing whatever they please without any regard for the Crown. Even small-time criminals commit crimes openly in the streets and no one dares to stop them. You know why?"
The two men shook their heads slowly, waiting for him to continue.
Minister Alexei smiled widely, his small eyes gleaming with contempt. "Because power and authority are dead when the King himself cannot even command the loyalty of his own nobles. The Crown is nothing more than an empty symbol now. We control the armies, the wealth, and the lands. That boy on the throne is just a figurehead with no real power left. Why should any of us waste our time answering his pathetic summons?"
Count Viktor chuckled softly, setting his cup down. "You're right, Minister. The royal family is hanging on by a thread. With only two members left, it won't take much to push them over the edge entirely."
Baron Ludwig nodded eagerly, his mustache twitching as he grinned. "Exactly. The previous Kaiser died from stress, and this new one is even weaker. He's barely twenty and has no supporters worth mentioning. If he thinks sending out a few letters will make us tremble, he's more delusional than we thought."
Minister Alexei took another sip of tea, his expression growing more arrogant. "Let him summon us all he wants. We'll continue managing our territories as we see fit. The wars? Let the Crown bleed for them. The taxes? We'll raise them further on the commoners and keep the profits. As long as we stand united, that boy can do nothing but sit on his fancy throne and pretend he still matters."
The conversation flowed easily between the three men, their laughter growing bolder as they continued to mock the young Kaiser and the crumbling state of Brastovia.
They spoke of Reinhardt as if he were a child playing at being ruler, dismissing his every potential move with cruel amusement and calculating how much more they could squeeze from the dying nation before it finally collapsed.
Just as Minister Alexei opened his mouth to deliver another cutting remark, a sudden commotion erupted outside the room — raised voices, heavy footsteps, and the sound of something heavy crashing.
Minister Alexei frowned deeply and set his teacup down with a sharp clink. "What's all this ruckus? What's going on out there?"
Before any of them could react further, the beautifully crafted double doors of the living room were violently blasted open with a deafening crash.
The heavy wooden doors flew inward, sent flying across the room as if struck by a powerful force.