Not long after Bruno began educating Eva in the ways of geopolitics, he found himself face to face—in his own home—with the Kings of Greece and Bulgaria. Two men who had been enemies just half a decade ago now came to him seeking advice.
Frankly speaking, both were deeply intimidated by Bruno’s strategic abilities. The fact that he had yet to retire, and now served as the chief of the German General Staff, meant only one thing: they needed his opinion before committing to any alliance outside of Germany’s orbit.
The problem was, it was difficult to know what exactly Bruno thought. After all, he was partially responsible for the current state of the Balkans.
Still, Bulgaria and Greece had two viable options. Romania and Hungary both seemed poised to reignite conflict over territory that Bruno had only temporarily pacified. The two kings hoped to avoid backing the wrong side in what could become another war.
They did not meet in some grand throne room or diplomatic hall, but rather in Bruno’s personal study—drinking tea and coffee over brunch. And neither of them could resist the man’s disarming charm as he opened the conversation not with strategy, but with something far more intimate.
"So, Ferdinand," Bruno asked with a smile, "have you been to pray in the Hagia Sophia yet? When my men and I took the city, the first thing I did was kneel within its pews and give proper worship to our Lord—the Father in heaven, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, whom we all know are truly one."
That one sentence landed like a bomb. Bruno had just echoed the Orthodox doctrine regarding the Trinity—openly—despite ruling over a Catholic realm and being of Protestant birth. The silence that followed was palpable until Constantine finally broke it.
"I’m sorry... but if I’m not mistaken, you are of Prussian stock, no? Your family is as Prussian as the lands themselves are German, from my understanding. Wouldn’t that make you Protestant?"
Bruno scoffed and rolled his eyes, answering as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Nominally? For most of my life, yes. However, I converted to Catholicism recently as a gesture of goodwill toward the people I now rule. Spiritually? Well... I’ve probably been Orthodox since the day I first read the Bible—and the history of the faith. Anyone who knows my understands this. It’s not is some grand secret."
Despite his casual tone, both kings were floored. Here was Bruno, quite possibly on their side, at least in matters where religion still stoked violence. That alone shifted the mood—just enough for Ferdinand to answer the original question with slightly less caution.
"Indeed, I have. Stepping foot in the Hagia Sophia, seeing the desecrations of the last centuries undone, and its full glory restored—it was a sight to behold.
I must confess... during my last visit, I felt a pain in my gut as I left. Did you feel the same when you departed the city?"
Bruno didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pivoted. Whether as a tactical maneuver, or simply because he did not want to think about the sunset on the city of Constantinople and what he felt in that moment.
"I think that’s enough pleasantries. Let’s get to business, shall we? You both came a long way to visit me here, after all. This is about Serbia, and the disintegration of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, isn’t it?
You want to know who I’ll align myself with—at least in the near future, yes? Believe it or not, the answer is simple. Assuming their new self-proclaimed king doesn’t go out of his way to provoke my ire, I’ll be throwing my weight behind the Hungarians."
That caught both kings off guard. They had assumed—almost banked—on him, favoring Romania. In fact, they considered themselves lucky they came to ask at all. Still, Ferdinand couldn’t help but press, albeit respectfully.
"If you don’t mind my asking... why Hungary? Doesn’t their king currently have... issues with you?"
Bruno rolled his eyes and launched into a brief but pointed explanation. Almost as if he were lecturing his own child on the nature of personal grievances when compared to the stakes of the realm.
"Of course he does. He blames me for the Habsburgs abandoning him and for Hungary’s current fate—and he’d be partially right. Austria was the prize I wanted, not the mess he’s now forced to deal with.
He’s also no fan of how I handled Transylvania. But frankly, that was for the best. I saw the crisis coming and bought him time to prepare before it exploded.
And while he may not realize that yet, the fact that he hasn’t poisoned the well—hasn’t demonized me in the public eye—tells me that cooperation is still possible.
Romania, on the other hand, offers little. Not in resources, not in regional leverage. Hungary has greater potential if they can consolidate and press their claims over the next two decades.
So if you two are dead set on gaining a regional partner for your security concerns, I’d recommend you either refrain for now—until the fog clears—or throw your lot in with Hungary."
Bruno paused only long enough to finish his coffee before delivering his final piece of advice.
"Let me leave you with this before I bid you farewell: the future is not set in stone. The allies of today can easily become the enemies of tomorrow if you lack proper dynastic ties to anchor the relationship.
Choose your friends wisely. And if you choose wrong? Don’t lament it. Just play the hand that fate has given you. Until we meet again, gentlemen."
With that, Bruno shook hands with the Kings of Greece and Bulgaria and sent them on their way.
Romania was off the table. Now the two monarchs had a decision to make: heed Bruno’s warning and remain neutral—or risk backing Hungary, hoping the gains would be worth the gamble. But that was a conversation the two of them would have on their own.