For many years, the heir apparent of the von Zehntner family had been Erwin von Zehntner. After all, the law of the land had been primogeniture with few exceptions.

But with Bruno’s chancellery came a staggering blow to the old nobility and their declining ways.

The law was changed to allow succession in noble houses, and the inheritance of primary titles and estates not to the oldest son, but the male member of the household who was most capable to succeed.

This law had not been one of federal enforcement among noble circles, but was optional. Allowing certain houses to bypass candidates they felt were likely to ruin the family’s standing, in favor of a child, grandchild, or any other male relative who was more capable of ruling over family affairs.

And when the law was formally announced, it shook the noble world. To the House von Zehntner, it was another Tuesday. The truth of the matter was, Erwin never expected to truly succeed his father.

And his reasoning was simple: from his perspective the next generation was already far more capable than his own.

He, Josef, Wilhelm, and Heinrich, Bruno’s four sons had all reached great heights in their career paths, and each had been instrumental in the families rise to prominence, taking over certain aspects of their father relied on to bend the Reich, and by extent the world at large to his will.

Industry, law, politics, and medicine. The four sons cornered the four cornerstones of societal advancement.

But Bruno’s grandchildren had inherited the lessons of their fathers, their mothers, their grandfather, and their grandmother.

Culminating in a generation of excellence that was on the cover of every magazine, except for those tabloids that reported on the scandals of noble courts and lower celebrities.

Erwin and Josef’s eldest sons were among those who were considered most capable of succeeding the house.

Erich was already a General of the Luftwaffe before he had even turned thirty. He had served with the most honorable distinction during the Second Weltkrieg. And had gained honor through blood, not through birth.

He in many ways resembled his grandfather, and many had suspected he would become the next head of the house after Bruno died.

But there was another major contender to the throne of Alemannia that had risen from the same generation, displacing his own father and uncles in rapid process.

Karl-Franz von Zehntner.... The blood of his grandfather, and the Habsburgs flowed through his veins.

He had risen swiftly through the ranks of the German military after graduating from the academy and found himself among the most secretive and capable units.

He was the first of the family line to graduate from the selection course for the infamous Jagdkommandos.

And was among the few men in the Pax Germanica to obtain battlefield distinctions on his uniform, despite the Reichsheer not officially participating in any overt combat actions since the end of the Weltkrieg.

But unlike his older cousin who planned to make his life in the military, Karl-Franz was already aspiring towards early retirement and instead had his eyes on the family business.

It was an interesting scene when the two young men were standing together. Though of the same generation, there was a significant age gap between them.

Erich had been born in the late 1910s, and Karl-Franz had been born in the late 1920s. Nearly a decade separated the two of them.

Yet when they stood across from one another in their military uniforms, alone in the family estate they did not give formal salutes, nor familial smiles. They eyed one another like two jaguars circling the same caiman caught between them.

One, golden haired, the proud Prussian lineage of the von Zehntner line fully on display, the other, with the more ancient and darker roots of his Habsburg mother proudly resilient against the test of time.

Erich gazed at Karl-Franz in silence for few moments, while Karl-Franz did the same. Finally, Karl-Franz spoke, but only after a brief chuckle that made things more awkward between the two of them.

"I suppose it is a bit ironic isn’t it?"

Erich only narrowed his eyes at the response. But Karl-Franz didn’t let him speak, the gesture was enough to convey the man’s thoughts.

"Come now, don’t be daft, cousin. Here we stand, two soldiers who have given up much of our lives in pursuit of our duties...."

The words trailed at the end, just enough for Erich to know where this conversation was headed. But he did not intervene, he did not flee, he stood firmly with stoic posture as Karl-Franz began to speak more loudly.

"Duty... I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard Grandfather speak of such a thing... It’s practically been beaten into my head. Duty Above All, the words of our horse, written beneath our royal sigil. If this is true, why is it those of that came from our grandfather’s second line are always the ones forced to sacrifice, and yet you, those prodigies of his golden line always get whatever the hell they want?"

Erich smirked when he heard this. Golden Line and secondary Line... these were terms that Bruno’s grandchildren in silence among themselves that drew a battle line in the wars for inheritance.

The golden line referred to Bruno’s first three children and their descendants. Eva, Erwin, and Elsa.

The secondary line referred to those children Bruno and Heidi sired a decade later, in the 1910s. Josef, Heinrich, Wilhelm, Anna, and Erika.

From Erich’s perspective, it was a distinction made solely to describe a self-imposed grievance regarding chronology.

After all, those children born earlier developed into adults earlier and became exceptional earlier, captivating the world’s attention before their younger siblings could do the same.

The sheer absurdity of this concept made Erich chuckle lightly. And that was the first time Karl-Franz had seen Erich smile since the war.

Erich then looked out the window, towards the alps, the city of Innsbruck, and all its glory. The land they were both fighting to inherit. A single thought escaped his lips.

"It is true that unlike myself and my father you weren’t allowed to marry the woman you fell for, but what would you know of my sacrifice? I bear the sins of our grandfather, so much that I was named after his greatest damnation."

The words forced Karl-Franz to open his eyes, literally and metaphorically. He had not realized the simple weight of the revelation until it hit him like an 8 lb sledge.

Erich didn’t grant his errant younger cousin reprieve, instead he relentlessly aggressed with a purposely polite and soft tone in his voice.

"Despite the stripes you wear on your shoulders, and the color of your beret, you are still too young.... As you currently stand, you are unworthy to become the Patriarch of this Dynasty. When that crown is placed upon my head, I will remember the love you have shown me this day, but I will not return it to you... cousin."

Erich smiled and nodded to Karl-Franz before turning away from the window and walking off through the halls alone. Leaving the younger officer to reflect on what he had been told and the deeper meaning beneath it all.