Chapter Content
It was now the 27th of July, year 1908.
On the morning of his twentieth birthday, Prince Oskar von Hohenzollern woke to the sound of bells.
They rang across Berlin—not in alarm, not in mourning, but in celebration—carrying over palace roofs, gardens, and streets already thick with expectation. Flags hung heavy from balconies. Guards stood polished and still. Carriages rolled through gates in steady procession.
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