Tyranny of Steel Chapter 1158 Wedding Bells

Chapter 1158 Wedding Bells

After nearly a month away at sea, Berengar and Adela returned to the fatherland, where they were greeted by their family. During the days that followed, Berengar would spend every waking hour either at work, or with his loved ones, trying his best to repair the bonds that were on the brink of collapse between him and several of his children. 

Though it would be a long journey to fully make up for his years of absence, whether that was the result of marching to war, or simply working too hard. Berengar knew that he had made a great start. Something he strived to improve upon with each pa.s.sing day.

Before he knew it, six months had pa.s.sed, and during this time Berengar had lived his best life, as Kaiser, husband, and father. Balancing the three roles to perfection, especially now that he no longer had to worry about defending the Reich from enemies on all sides. 

Without warning, the eldest Prince of Germany, Hans von Kufstein, had turned sixteen and thus entered the age of adulthood. Meaning that he was finally able to marry three of his young brides. After a rather lavish celebration of the boy's sixteenth birthday, Hans' first wedding, where he would Mary Noemi, Veronika, and Anne was set to take place within a fortnight. 

Two weeks came and went and at the moment Hans was in his room, adorning his Luftwaffe mess dress uniform, which he would be wearing to the wedding. As he was fastening his bowtie, a slight knock resounded on the door, followed by a familiar voice. 

"Hans, are you in there? Do you mind if I have a moment to speak with you?"

The usually stoic expression on the young man's face lit up with excitement as he responded to his father, who still stood on the other side of the door. 

"You may enter. I'm just about done here, anyway..."

The door opened to reveal the figure of the boy's father, who was dressed in his finest regalia. The man took one look at his son before grasping the boy on the shoulders and expressing his fatherly affection.

"Hans, words can not express how much pride I have to be your father. You are only sixteen, and yet you have accomplished so much in your life. It truly amazes me that you are already an adult. To think that just sixteen years ago, you were born in a primitive and feudal world. Oh speaking of,  I don't know if I ever told you this, but did you know that when your mother and I first met, that she was actually my brother's fiancee?"

Hans, who was still fussing with his bowtie, immediately looked up in shock towards his father, who was grinning ear to ear, as if he hadn't just said something completely earth shattering. It took the Prince several moments to think through in his head, just what his father had said before being able to form a proper response.

"Hold on, mother was engaged to uncle Lambert? But she always told me that it was love at first sight when she first met you? What have the two of you been hiding from me for all these years?" 

Berengar responded exactly as Hans did when the boy first heard this news. Had he never actually told his son how he and the boy's mother first met? Or did he tell some watered-down version of the story that was more appropriate for a child?

In all honesty, Berengar could not remember the answer to this question. However, there was no point in continuing to hide the truth, and thus the man chuckled before sitting his son down where he proceeded to tell the boy the whole story.

"Hah, love at first sight. Is that what she told you? Perhaps l.u.s.t at first sight, but your mother did not love me until I properly drilled such a foreign emotion into her pretty little head. No, your mother was initially set to marry my brother Lambert. 

The engagement was a ploy by Linde's father to secure the vast deposits of iron located within the mountains of Kufstein. That devious b.a.s.t.a.r.d wanted our resources to fuel his dream of becoming the Duke of Austria, and he came d.a.m.n close to achieving this. However, when my brother first poisoned me, I miraculously survived, and was thus reborn as a far more competent man. 

It was because of this that your mother was first sent to Kufstein, where my brother had failed. She would succeed, or so her father believed. He failed to account for one thing, though. That I had climbed my way out of poor health, and had become quite the handsome young b.a.s.t.a.r.d. 

The moment your mother laid eyes upon me, she no longer desired to kill me. Instead, you could say at that moment she wanted nothing more than to turn me into her plaything. She even tried drugging me to accomplish this, but after giving her the old switcheroo, she ended up being drugged instead, and I spent the next week training her to be my pet. "

Hans immediately shuddered when he heard his father refer to his mother as his pet. The young man awkwardly averted his gaze and voiced his thoughts aloud, without even thinking about it. 

"Father... I did not need to know all of that..."

An awkward expression appeared on Berengar's face as he just now realized he had said something that perhaps he shouldn't have. Thus, he quickly changed the course of the discussion to his primary point.

"Anyway, the point is that you were conceived not long after, and were technically my b.a.s.t.a.r.d child when you were born, which I immediately legitimized. After all, I was still engaged to Adela at the time, but Linde had quickly stolen my heart, and I could never allow the product of our love to be shunned as a mere b.a.s.t.a.r.d. So at the first given opportunity I legalized polygamy, and took your mother as my second bride."

This news startled Hans even more. He had never known that he had been born out of wedlock, as he was far too young at the time to remember such an important detail. He was quick to inquire about this fact, hoping that perhaps his ears were playing a trick on him. 

"Wait, a second. Are you telling me that I'm a b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

Berengar quickly dismissed this concern without even really thinking about it, as he tried to readjust the course of the conversation once more. 

"Technically yes, but n.o.body really remembers such a minor detail, as your birth wasn't exactly the most public of knowledge, and I married your mother shortly thereafter. Anyway, the point of this is that In time, you grew up, and immediately became a cut above the rest of your siblings. And while there is still some time for your brothers to compete with you for my throne, I am already certain that you will end up being my successor, whether you want it or not.

I'm proud of you Hans, you have accomplished far more in your limited lifespan than I had ever come close to achieving when I was your age, and I am so happy that you and your fiancees have built a solid foundation to your relations.h.i.+p over the years. In fact, I look forward to my future grandchildren, almost as much as your mother does."

Any concerns that Hans had over being a b.a.s.t.a.r.d were immediately dismissed in the next second by his father's kind words. Hans could count the number of times that Berengar had expressed the pride he felt towards having him as a son on one hand.

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Berengar was not the most affectionate father in the world, at least not towards his sons. Towards his daughters, the Kaiser was a bastion of love and affection, but to his sons, Berengar was a man of rigid discipline, a living example of what it meant to be a man.

Berengar would only compliment his sons when they had done something deserving of it, and that usually meant winning a national award of some kind. h.e.l.l, the man had been reluctant to give Hans the medals he deserved for his meritorious service to the state during the German-j.a.panese war, and was only convinced after the Admiral in charge of the Sixth Carrier fleet went to bat for the young Prince. 

To hear his father say the words, "I'm proud of you" always filled Hans with a sense of happiness, thus to hear it on his wedding day, right before he married three of the women he loved, it truly meant something to the young man. As a result, Hans held out his hand in a friendly gesture to his father, who was quick to grab hold of it. 

However, contrary to what Hans was expecting, Berengar did not shake the boy's hand, instead he pulled his son into his chest and hugged him, just brief enough that Hans thought perhaps he had imagined the whole thing. After releasing the boy, Berengar threw up a salute towards his son, who was quick to respond in kind. 

"Come on, Hans, you mother and siblings are waiting downstairs. I'm sure she would be happy to see her precious baby boy on her wedding day." 

The term "precious baby boy" usually caused Hans to groan in dissatisfaction. No matter how old the boy became, his mother would always refer to him with such a tone of endearment. It was usually embarra.s.sing for him, but today, he felt like he could easily endure such a thing. Thus, he wore a happy smile as he followed his son down the stairs to meet with his mother and siblings. 

Linde was waiting for the boy, while dressed in a lovely sky blue gown that was fit for an empress. Standing next to her was Helga, who was dressed the same. She had even changed her hair from her signature twintails to something more mature for the occasion. 

Immediately after seeing Hans enter the room, Linde hugged him tightly, and stuffed his head into her substantial bosom, all while smothering the poor boy. 

"Oh, there he is! My precious baby boy is about to get married! I am so happy!" 

After forcefully breaking his way out of Linde's grip, Helga also hugged Hans, but in a far less intimate fas.h.i.+on. She had a hard time looking the boy in the eyes as she congratulated her older brother on his wedding day. 

"Congratulations Hans, I hope that your wives make you very happy!'

Hans simply petted Helga's strawberry blonde hair before moving onto each of his siblings, who likewise shared their praise for the boy. Once the Prince had heard everything his family had to say, he was escorted into a large limousine, which would take him and his family to the Grand Kufstein Cathedral for the wedding ceremony. 

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