Re: Blood and Iron - Chapter 896: Chancellor

Chapter 896: Chancellor

Months passed and soon enough the Reichstag elections concluded without spectacle.

The electorate cast its ballots with the same discipline that defined the rest of the Reich’s civic life. Results were tabulated efficiently, verified twice, and published with little fanfare.

Turnout had been high, as it usually was, and the results were accepted without contest. By the end of the week, the composition of the new Reichstag was clear.

No dramatic ideological shift had occurred, the major blocs retained their influence, and the smaller factions gained or lost a handful of seats. It was stability, not upheaval, that defined the result.

The outgoing Chancellor addressed the chamber two days later.

He stood behind the lectern beneath the great imperial banner hanging on the wall behind He thanked the Reichstag for its cooperation. He thanked the Kaiser for his confidence. He thanked the German people for their patience and discipline.

When he concluded, there was no thunderous applause. Only a firm, unified rising of the chamber in acknowledgment of service rendered.

His resignation had been planned months in advance. There was no scandal, no illness, and no political defeat.

It was simply time.

The transition had been anticipated long before the first ballot was cast.

—

The formal appointment ceremony was held in Berlin under a cloudless sky.

The courtyard of the Chancellery had been prepared with restrained elegance. Flags of the constituent states of the Reich lined the perimeter in symmetrical formation. A modest military honor guard stood at attention, uniforms immaculate, movements precise but not theatrical.

Representatives from the Kaiser’s court, the Bundesrat, and the newly seated Reichstag were present. So too were foreign envoys; observers more than participants. They stood at a respectful distance, quietly noting every detail.

Bruno von Zehntner arrived without convoy.

A single staff car brought him to the Chancellery gates. There were no flashing lights, no heavy escort beyond the standard security presence required for any high office holder. He stepped out dressed not in military uniform, nor in the ornate regalia he had once worn as Reichsmarschall, but in a dark civilian suit tailored with humble simplicity.

He paused briefly before ascending the steps, acknowledging the Kaiser with a slight inclination of his head rather than a deep bow. The gesture was deliberate, and respectful. The Kaiser returned the nod with equal measure.

There were cameras present, of course. The world would see this moment. But the tone was not triumphal.

It was procedural.

Inside the great hall, the ceremony unfolded with quiet efficiency.

The outgoing Chancellor signed the final documents transferring executive authority. The ink dried quickly under the lights. He stepped aside without ceremony and took his place among the seated officials.

The presiding officer of the Reichstag read aloud the formal resolution confirming Bruno’s appointment. The language was precise, legalistic, and deliberately unembellished.

“…in accordance with the constitutional provisions of the Federative Empire, and by consent of the seated Reichstag, Bruno von Zehntner is hereby confirmed as Chancellor of the Reich…”

Bruno stepped forward only when prompted.

He placed one hand upon the bound constitution of the Reich. His other hand remained at his side.

His oath was brief.

“I accept the office of Chancellor with full understanding of its burden. I will uphold the constitution of the Reich, defend its sovereignty, and preserve its stability for those who have earned their place within it.”

After the Oath Bruno was given a few words to speak to the people whose interests he would now represent. And there he gave a speech that he had prepared over the last few months ensuring it conveyed his intent clearly, and precisely for all the world to see.

“It is with great honor, and responsibility that today I accept the position of Chancellor, bequeathed upon me by His Imperial Majesty, Kaiser Wilhelm II.

Throughout my life, I have endeavored to serve and protect the Reich in whatever capacity was required of me. These were virtues imparted unto me by my father. Duty… it is a simple word, but a word that every man understands instinctively. It is not loud. It does not boast. It does not seek applause. It simply demands that we stand where we are needed, when we are needed, without complaint.

Duty to my family, duty to my folk, duty to my fatherland, duty to my Kaiser, and duty to the faith.

For decades, that duty required a sword.

It required sacrifice from our sons and daughters. It required resolve when doubt would have been easier. It required that we prepare when others hesitated, and that we act when others faltered.

Today, the nature of that duty has changed.

The Reich does not require conquest. It does not require expansion. It does not require spectacle.

It requires stewardship.

We have built a nation whose strength lies not merely in its arms, but in its institutions. In its schools. In its railways. In its laboratories. In its courts. In the discipline of its citizens who have earned their voice through service.

Our task now is not to dominate the world, but to endure within it.

To remain stable when others waver. To remain disciplined when others indulge chaos. To remain sovereign without seeking to dictate the sovereignty of others.

To our neighbors, and to the wider world, let me be clear:

Germany does not seek quarrels. Germany does not seek ideological crusades. Germany does not seek to impose its system beyond its borders.

But Germany will defend its stability. It will defend its citizens. And it will defend the order that its people have labored to construct.

We will continue to invest in science, in industry, in energy independence, and in the cultivation of a citizenry capable of sustaining the civilization we have forged.

We will reward service, we will uphold law, and we will preserve continuity. And above all, we will act not from impulse, but from calculation.

The Reich has known the weight of war, now it must master the burden of peace. I accept this office not as a reward, nor as a culmination, but as another post along the same road I have walked since my youth.

The road of duty.

May we walk it together, with clarity, with discipline, and with the quiet confidence of a people who know who they are.”

Outside the hall, the crowd gathered in the streets reacted with a similar tone. There was cheering, certainly. Bruno was a figure of enormous respect. But it was not the ecstatic roar of a revolutionary moment.

It felt inevitable.

—

Across the country, reactions were varied but controlled.

In Munich, a group of veterans watched the ceremony replayed on a café television. They nodded in approval more than excitement. To them, Bruno was not a symbol. He was a known quantity. A man who had commanded divisions and delivered victory.

In Hamburg, dockworkers paused their labor to observe the oath. One older man removed his cap briefly when Bruno placed his hand upon the constitution. A small gesture of acknowledgment, nothing more.

In Innsbruck, Heidi watched from the sitting room of the palace.

She did not attend the ceremony in Berlin. That had been Bruno’s decision. “It is a working day,” he had told her. “Not a coronation.”

She sat with a cup of tea, the broadcast flickering softly before her. Around her, grandchildren wandered in and out of the room, only half-aware of the moment’s significance.

When Bruno finished his oath, she smiled faintly.

“He looks tired,” one of the younger children remarked.

Heidi didn’t respond.

Back in Berlin, the formalities concluded quickly.

Bruno did not linger for extended congratulations. He shook hands where protocol required. He exchanged brief words with foreign envoys, none lasting more than a minute. To each he offered the same measured assurance:

“Germany will remain consistent.”

That was all.

He made no promises of intervention, no threats towards his opposition, and no declarations of global ambitions.

Consistency.

It was both a reassurance and a warning.

He was escorted to the Chancellor’s office shortly thereafter.

The room had not changed much in the years since he last stood within it as Reichsmarschall delivering strategic briefings during the war.

The desk remained heavy and immovable. The windows still overlooked the orderly expanse of Berlin beyond.

He stood alone for a moment after the staff withdrew.

The silence was familiar.

On the desk lay a stack of briefing folders prepared in advance.

Everything from border assessments, economic forecasts, intelligence summaries, and foreign policy memoranda. None of it was urgent, but all of it would eventually require his attention.

He did not sit immediately.

Instead, he walked toward the window and looked out over the capital.

Berlin was calm.

Traffic flowed in orderly lines. Rail systems moved with mechanical precision. Construction cranes marked the skyline where new projects were underway.

After a moment, he returned to the desk and took his seat. A staff secretary entered quietly to confirm his first scheduled meeting.

“In one hour, Chancellor.”

He nodded.

“That will suffice.”

There was no rush.

The machinery of the state did not require him to sprint on the first day. It required steadiness.

He opened the first folder and began his first day on the job as Chancellor.