His Royal Highness The Archduke of Austria
Evergreen Palace, Royal District of Bainbridge
Duchy of Washington, Kingdom of Apilonia
Sunday 1st November 2020, 2300hrs Local Time
Although the Evergreen Palace was not as large and majestic as the Hofburg in Vienna, the Apilonians had never been quite as indulgent or decadent as their European cousins, it was still a building worthy of the name and could throw a celebration with the best of them. It was a great day for a celebration after all, given that it marked the official foundation of the Apilonian Commonwealth; the brainchild of President Jonathan Mulder of South Africa and wholeheartedly embraced by the Kingdom of Apilonia. It was a day that had been long-awaited and was being celebrated all over what was now the Commonwealth; Austria, East Africa, South Africa, and of course Apilonia herself. After gathering for the signing of the Treaty of Cape Town, several weeks previously, the heads of government from each of what were now Commonwealth Realms had again come together in the Royal District of Bainbridge (the capital district of the Kingdom, a part of Greater Seattle) for a great ball and celebration. Outside of high society it was remarkable how quickly the general populous, both in Apilonia and in all of the Commonwealth Realms, had latched onto the idea and run with it.
For King William V of Apilonia, now also bearing the title of Head of the Commonwealth, it was a moment that he had never thought he would live to see. After several decades of decline, followed by more decades of stagnation, the Kingdom had started to reassert itself on the world stage and to take a more active role in the fortunes of its former colonies, but the King had been privately concerned for the long-term prospects of a resurgent Apilonia. Now, seeing the Commonwealth come to life, the King was far more reassured that Apilonia would survive and prosper after he was gone; which he feared would be sooner rather than later, given his age. It was also very encouraging to see that Apilonia had not only learnt from the excesses of its colonial period but was actively working to fix the mistakes that had been made during the Crisis of Confidence and to work together with its daughter states (and others, such as the Archduchy of Austria) for a better, brighter and more prosperous future. For a King that had been born at the height of the old Apilonian Empire, and essentially presided over its decline as its King, the feeling was indescribable.
Ever since the Commonwealth had been in the offing, and particularly since the signing of the Treaty of Cape Town, the King had been filled with an energy and a drive that belied his advanced years. Few would say that King William V was ever a slouch, and he had a stern and dominating presence that served him well as King both domestically and internationally, but in recent years those closest to him would describe him best as ‘weary’ after a long reign… but that now was a thing of the past. In addition to being personally involved in the extensive discussions that had taken place to put the Treaty of Cape Town together, an involvement that all the other delegates had been more than happy to see, the King had spent most of the last few weeks since the signing travelling around the new Commonwealth on public relations trips and had already agreed to become patron of dozens of charitable organisations in what were now the Commonwealth Realms. He had also instructed the Keeper of the Privy Purse to ensure that each of these charities benefited from their new Royal patronage.
George, Archduke of Austria and one of the King’s grandsons, he had not seen his grandfather quite so energised and enthusiastic in his lifetime; having been too little to remember a time before the Terror, which had taken its toll on the King’s demeanour. Although George had known that the King loved all of his grandchildren, if he was reluctant to show it overtly, the time that he had spent with his grandfather when he had visited Austria shortly after the treaty signing had been the best he could remember. Although still stern and an intimidating presence, the King had shown a gentler side of a doting grandfather on his grandson and his new granddaughter-in-law during his time at the Hofburg. He had also been far more engaged with the public, both at home and abroad, than he had been previously; whilst he had never been rude and had been more than capable of carrying on a conversation with anyone, regardless of class or age, he had always been a little more noticeably detached than any other Royal or member of the nobility. Since the birth of the Commonwealth, and in particular in the new Commonwealth Realms, the King had been far more accessible to his newfound peoples in a way that was more familiar in the Prince of Cascadia.
Not that George, or anyone else for that matter, was complaining… except perhaps the Household Cavalry, who provided the close protection details for the Royal Family, alongside the Foot Guards who provided for the physical security of Royal Palaces and other residences.
The King’s newfound gregarious side had been on full display at the Commonwealth Ball. Where previously he would have remained at the top table presiding over the affair, but only interacting with others when required, the King had descended onto the floor and spent his evening engaging countless courtiers, nobles, and other dignitaries from across the Commonwealth. It was a role that was expected of the Apilonian Monarch, given that they maintained a hands-on role in the governance of the Kingdom this sort of networking remained essential, particularly for building a political consensus in the House of Lords, but was one that King William had largely neglected instead relying on his son, the Prince of Cascadia. The Apilonian Establishment, the vast majority of which was present at the Commonwealth Ball had been surprised, but pleasantly so, by the King’s return to his traditional role. There were still boundaries of course, and the King was treated with the great respect due his rank, but it was a positive change none the less.
Nevertheless, not wanting to put a damper on the further celebrations, the King had invited the other heads of state and select courtiers, to retire with to one of the Palace’s drawing rooms for a more intimate end to the evening whilst the rest of the guests were able to enjoy themselves as dancing got underway in the Great Hall. In addition to the King and Queen of Apilonia, the Prince and Princess of Cascadia were present, with although George’s older brother Prince Alexander had remained in the Great Hall at the request of his fiancé, the Cottish Princess Tyra, to preside over the rest of the ball. George and his own wife; Sophia, Archduchess of Austria, were present of course, as was President Mulder of South Africa and Sheikh Mohammed bin Ahmed al-Sufi of East Africa, along with the Apilonian Prime Minister, The Right Honourable Sebastian Barnes, and the just-appointed Secretary-General of the Commonwealth, Sir William Ecclestone, who had of course played a vital role in the development of the Treaty of Cape Town as the former HM Ambassador to South Africa. In short, it was a veritable who’s who of the newly founded Commonwealth.
Nevertheless, despite the jollity of the occasion, both George and Sophia seemed distracted now that the group had withdrawn into more private surroundings, and it did not take long for the ever-observant King (and his son, the Prince of Cascadia who had inherited that particular trait) to notice. After a silent conversation between the King and Prince, in which they exchanged concerned looks at the Archduke and Archduchess who sat talking quietly away from the group, the two older men stood and moved over to sit in chairs close to them. The rest of the group did not pay much attention at this point, engaged in various other conversations around the room, with Queen Suzanne particularly interested in discussing the proposed Commonwealth Foundation with Sir William.
“My powers of observation, renowned as they are across the Kingdom and beyond, tell me that something is bothering the two of you,” The King said wryly, prompting a brief smile from the pair. “To be distracting you on a day like this, it must be pressing… so we’re all one family here, by blood or by Commonwealth, so let’s work it through together.”
George and Sophia glanced at each other before both signing heavily.
“We’re worried about Hungary,” George admitted eventually.
Although few in the room knew the exact details of the situation between Austria and Hungary, it wasn’t their concern and had not been asked for assistance so they had only a general knowledge of what was going on, the mention of the situation was enough to bring the conversation in the drawing room to a halt as the rest of the group listened into the conversation.
“Ah, I see,” The King nodded thoughtfully. “Or, more accurately, you’re worried about Yugoslavia.”
George nodded grimly. Hungary was a constituent province of the People’s Republic of Yugoslavia, an authoritarian socialist that controlled the bulk of the Balkans. The vast majority of it had had been, at one time, under the control of the Austrian Empire or one of its satellite states. Hungary, by contrast, had been Austria’s one-time partner for a period as the Austro-Hungarian Empire and had always been the black sheep of the People’s Republic as a result. Now, with Yugoslavia finding itself embroiled in turmoil due to increasing unrest due to a combination of an inability to raise the basic living stipend (the welfare payment made to the poorest class of citizens in the People’s Republic, to which they had become reliant and started to demand steady increases) and more and more information making its way past the Yugoslavian censors about the quality of life for even the poor in the outside world. As such, Hungary had been involved in talks with Austria for several months now, since the successful Austrian defeat of a military uprising by the disgraced Margrave of Istria, about returning to the fold. Highly secretive of course, but intelligence indicated that the Yugoslavians were aware or at least suspected.
“Okay, so you expect the Hungarian leadership to request to be voluntary annexed into the Archduchy, without consulting the People’s Government in Belgrade because permission is unlikely to be forthcoming,” The King replied thoughtfully, seeing this as an opportunity to demonstrate his son and grandson his thought process. “Whilst I assume you’ll hold a plebiscite to confirm the popular support for annexation in due course, I imagine your concern is that Yugoslavia is unlikely to take it lying down, even if the Hungarians want it.”
“Exactly, the Hungarians have support of their local brigade commanders, the senior officers of which are largely Hungarian,” Sophia explained. “However, we’ve reports of other Yugoslav brigades mobilising to the south, so we strongly suspect they’ll try and stop us.”
“Almost certainly,” The King agreed. “Meaning that you’ll have to immediately, and decisively, enforce your annexation.”
“And that’s the ball game,” George sighed. “At that point, we’ll be in a general war with Yugoslavia, which is what our MOD has started to prepare for.”
“What is your real concern, George,” The King pressed with a frown. “Obviously we assume you win the war, especially with our support.”
“Our concern is the post-war situation… even if the Yugoslavian people are less and less enamoured with authoritarian socialism and will likely welcome a regime change, we suspect that they’ll be much less inclined to accept such a change if it’s done by us,” George sighed. “There is still a lot of bad blood there as a result of the crackdown by Austrian troops following the assassination of Franz Ferdinand in 1914, and of course the Balkans War that followed and led to the formation of the People’s Republic… even if we can install former nobles of the right ethnicity to administer the province, I just can’t see the people accepting Austrian rule, and yet…”
“And yet you can’t just leave Yugoslavia alone even once you’ve fended off their attempt to prevent your annexation of Hungary,” The Prince of Cascadia commented. “Even if you neuter their military, they’d still be a simmering threat on your southern border.”
“Exactly,” George sighed heavily. “You see our dilemma; we let them get away with it, they remain a threat, we take them out we’re saddled with an almost inevitable decades-long insurgency.”
“We do, and you’re right that you’d be stuck between a rock and a hard place, so you make sure you don’t end up in that situation,” The King said firmly. “We defeat them militarily, then you sign a peace treaty with them, and help them rebuild… it’ll almost certainly be a new regime by that point, and you have an opportunity to build a new relationship.”
“You be magnanimous in victory,” The Prince of Cascadia agreed emphatically. “Break the cycle, and you’ll be surprised how positive the future can seem.”
“That’s dangerous,” Sophia said cautiously. “Yugoslavia has been a threat to Austria for over a century.”
“That’s why someone has to take the first step, even if it’s to the backdrop of a military conflict, to break the cycle as His Majesty said,” Sir William commented as he joined the conversation. “Once the first step is taken, if they are receptive, we can leverage the resources of the entire Commonwealth if needs be… imagine it, not having to live in fear of Yugoslavia…”
Sophia nodded thoughtfully for a moment before laughing, breaking the tension that had filled the room over the past few minutes.
“I can see why you ended up as the Commonwealth’s Secretary-General, Sir William,” Sophia said wryly.
“You are too kind, Your Royal Highness,” Sir William smiled graciously.
“It’ll be challenging, but one I think we can rise to,” The King said, then sighed. “As it’ll affect you, we should probably talk about Greece…”
His Royal Highness The Duke of Sparta
The Kastello, Rhodes
Disputed Territory of the People’s Republic of Greece
Monday 2nd November 2020, 0900hrs Local Time
Rhodes, largest of the Dodecanese Islands and their traditional capital, was technically part of the People’s Republic of Greece; a polity that had been setup following a socialist revolution in the 1924, heavily backed by the larger People’s Republic of Yugoslavia to the north, overthrew the King of Greece. However, although the socialists revolutionaries had captured and executed the King of Greece for ‘crimes against the people’, they had failed to capture the King’s only son and heir; Prince Alexander, Duke of Sparta, who had fled with a number of loyalists across the Aegean Sea to the Royalist stronghold of Rhodes where he had established a resistance movement dedicated to freeing Greece from the socialists and restoring his family to the throne. Although several attempts to gain a foothold on the mainland were unsuccessful, the Royalists had a solid base of support on Rhodes and across the Dodecanese, with additional support on a number of other Aegean islands, the Royalist caused remained alive and was able to repel several attempts by the socialist regime to destroy the Royalist resistance.
On the last occasion, in 1937, the People’s Republic’s attempt was repulsed with the assistance of the Kingdom of Apilonia, in which the Apilonian dreadnought Warspite, two cruisers, and a screen of destroyers had intercepted the socialist Greek invasion fleet and turned it back, with an implicit message that Apilonia would protect the Royalists on Rhodes. This had occurred for two reasons; the first being that Apilonia had enjoyed a long presence in the Mediterranean in the form of the Crown Colony of Malta, and as such had significant national interests in the region. The second reason was that Prince Alexander was the grandson of King William III of Apilonia, and therefore a relation of the current King, Francis III, following the marriage of one of William III’s daughters, Princess Elizabeth, to a Greek Prince. It was not uncommon, amongst the world’s royalty and nobility, for many of the current Kings, Queens, and high nobles, to be distantly related as a result, and had proven to be particularly fortuitous for the Greek Royalists. Although the Greek Socialists would not attempt another invasion of Rhodes, or the Dodecanese, Apilonia continued to supply and finance the Greek Royalists, in the hopes of one day returning them to the throne and securing a solid ally in the Mediterranean.
This support had not come without consequence for the Kingdom, however, as a combined Greco-Yugoslav force attempted to invade the Crown Colony of Malta between 11 June 1940 and 20 November 1942, in what became known as the Siege of Malta. Despite a siege of nearly two and a half years, during which Apilonian defenders stalwartly held their positions whilst a succession of convoys resupplied the beleaguered colony, the attempt failed when an Apilonian fleet destroyed the combined Greco-Yugoslav fleet at the Battle of Malta and enforced terms on their opponents. In an ideal world, Apilonia would at that point have moved more proactively to make an attempt to put the Greek Royalists back in power, however the Siege of Malta had proven exceptionally damaging to the Kingdom’s economy and was just one of a number of threats that the Kingdom would face during the 1940s. As a result, the Kingdom found itself taking an increasingly cautious approach and supporting a Greek Royalist invasion directly was a very risky proposition, and with the election of a Liberal Party government in the 1950s, which had a mandate for extensive domestic reform, rapid decolonization (to the detriment of the former colonies in many cases, a mistake that was only now being rectified), ended any serious discussions in the Kingdom on the matter.
Although more conservative voices within the Apilonian Parliament, particularly the House of Lords, was able to ensure that the Kingdom would continue to support the Greek Royalists with supplies, funding, and implicit protection against invasion, direct involvement short of this latter eventuality seemed very unlikely. Moreover, by this point, many Greeks were still enamoured with the ‘socialist experiment’ and appetite for a return of the Monarchy was low in mainland Greece, even if the Royalists maintained a following across the Aegean. In time, Prince Alexander passed away and was replaced by his eldest son, Prince George, who took the title of Duke of Sparta; committing to never taking the title of King until he was restored to his throne; a tradition that was followed since. Although there would be limited progress on reclaiming their throne, Rhodes (and the Dodecanese) would develop into a thriving tourist economy, as did much of the Aegean, which were seen as more attractive holiday destinations for foreigners than the socialist mainland. This economic strength allowed the Royalists to remain relevant in the Greek mindset, as although the People’s Republic of Greece fared better than Yugoslavia, which was under a far more strict regime, it lagged behind Rhodes and other Royalists holdouts in terms of economic strength per capita.
Prince George ruled over Rhodes, and its other holdings, until 1970,, when he died and was replaced by his son, Alexander, who would in due course be replaced by his own son, Constantine. As compared to his father, who had been brought up in Greece before the fall of the Monarchy, all Constantine had known was life on Rhodes, although he shared his family’s desire of a return to fortune. After a childhood on Rhodes, and in a desire to gain military training for any potential return to the mainland, Constantine applied for and was accepted into the Apilonian Army’s officer training program at the Royal Military Academy, Kingston, eventually accepting a commission and serving several years in the Apilonian Army in order to gain practical experience as an officer in the Household Cavalry, although he never saw combat. After returning to Rhodes, he was appointed Colonel of the Royal Army although it would be several years before he took over from the professional officers, as he learnt the practical skills necessary to be an adequate commander. During this period, Constantine employed his contacts within the Apilonian Army to ensure that the Greek Royal Army received the best possible training, and was committed to ensuring that, although small, the Royal Army would be as formidable and capable as possible.
After succeeding his father as Duke of Sparta in 2010, Constantine had embarked upon an ambitious program of military spending (heavily subsidised by his Apilonian backers, of course), in an effort to boost his cause’s functions. Although he knew that he would not be able to defeat the socialists in a straight-up engagement he was fed-up of simply cooling his heels on Rhodes, particularly as the rise of social media began to reveal to the Greek people just how restricted their political, social, and economic liberties actually were. As part of this program, the Royalist received twelve (plus four replacements, plus spare parts) Hawk 200 light combat aircraft, giving the cause organic air combat capability for the first time, along with two Roussen-Class fast attack craft allowing the Royalists to more effectively police and patrol the waters around the Dodecanese. Perhaps most importantly, given that Apilonia consistently made it clear to the socialist regime in Athens that it would protect Rhodes, these additional military assets allowed the Royalists to conduct several high profile confrontations with the socialist forces; whether they be by intercepting their fighters which occasionally patrolled the southern Aegean, or by intercepting their own fast attack craft when they made mischief in Royalist-controlled waters.
In short, and given that news of these encounters spread quickly in the age of social media, it made clear to an increasingly dissatisfied population that there was an alternative to the authoritarian regime in Athens, even as it tried to crack down on increasingly frequent protests, similar to the situation in Yugoslavia.
At the same time as the Apilonian Commonwealth was celebrating its birth in Seattle, Constantine, Duke of Sparta, sat in his study looking out over the old town. The forty-two-year-old had been watching the development of the Commonwealth with a great deal of interest, particularly given that there was a Commonwealth member in the region in the form of the Archduchy of Austria. Although painfully aware that there was a great deal of work that needed to be done before he could dictate how Greece was run, but he could at least consider his options for when (if) that glorious day came. Assuming that he was able to reclaim his throne, it stood to reason that Yugoslavia would not be tremendously happy to lose what could charitably be called a puppet state in the People’s Republic of Greece, joining the Commonwealth was something that he was strongly considering, given both the defensive benefits and the economic advantages and investment to help rebuild Greece. Moreover, as he was a descendant of an Apilonian King, and therefore a relation of the current King, it made a great deal of sense and the people would likely largely not be too bothered if it resulted in prosperity for them.
Constantine was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door and turned in his chair to watch as a man wearing the tropical undress uniform of the Apilonian Royal Navy entered the room. Officially speaking this man, bearing the rank insignia of a Lieutenant Commander, was a ‘naval observer’ to the Royalist cause. In reality, Constantine knew that the man was in fact an operative of the Apilonian Royal Intelligence Service (RIS), and as such served as his primary communication link to the Kingdom; although Apilonia recognized and supported his existence they avoided a diplomatic incident by only maintaining a consular affairs office on Rhodes to support Apilonian tourists and never interacted with Constantine. All actual communication was done under the counter, as it were.
“Commander Sherington,” Constantine said in way of greeting.
“Your Royal Highness,” Lt. Commander Preston Sherington replied with a nod. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful, spent it reading intelligence reports, please do repeat my thanks to the RIS for sharing them with me, they are encouraging,” Constantine replied. “This Commonwealth business has Yugoslavia, and therefore Greece, in a barely concealed panic by the looks of it.”
“The Commonwealth, and the developing situation between Austria and Hungary for that matter, Yugoslavia is running scared right now,” Lt. Commander Sherington agreed. “Between the Commonwealth, and the expansion of the Pact, Yugoslavia is increasingly isolated.”
“They’re not the big bully of a small playground anymore,” Constantine observed. “They’re just a small part of a much bigger one.”
“Just so,” Lt. Commander Sherington agreed.
“So, what can I do for you, Commander?” Constantine asked, leaning back in his chair, as a footman arrived with iced water.
“The Ministry of Defence wanted me to make you aware that it is our belief that Hungary is coming to complete its defection from the People’s Republic in the very near future, and that we believe that Yugoslavia is not going to take the matter lying down,” Lt. Commander Sherington replied. “As such, we expect Greece to become increasingly unstable as a result, particularly if the unrest continues to increase and the likelihood of a crackdown by the regime, particularly with Yugoslavia distracted, increases and may offer you an opportunity.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Constantine smiled. “Tell me more.”
