Chapter 4
“No.”
Wilhelm answered firmly when I said I wanted a revolver.
“Why?”
“Because guns are far too dangerous for a little girl to play with.”
“But Oskar gets one.”
“Oskar is a prince. He’ll have to become a soldier one day.”
“Then I can be a soldier, too.”
Wilhelm was momentarily at a loss for words. He looked as if he wasn’t sure I even understood what I was saying.
I didn’t let the opportunity pass.
“I want a pistol. A revolver.”
“And where did you learn the word revolver?”
“I saw it in a book.”
I made up an excuse rather than say I’d heard it from Oskar and get him in trouble again. And it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. I’d seen revolvers in videos and books in my previous life.
Wilhelm shot my nanny a glance, but she looked aggrieved, as if to say she hadn’t taught me a thing.
“In any case, no.”
My first negotiation had failed.
But I couldn’t give up just like that. I tried again the next morning.
“Papa, a revolver.”
“No.”
I tried again during our walk after lunch.
“Papa, a little one is fine.”
“No.”
I went to see him again before bed.
“I’ll play with it without any bullets.”
“Bessie, that’s enough.”
Realizing this wasn’t going to work, I changed tactics on the third day.
Actually, it wasn’t much of a tactic. I just flopped onto the floor.
With a five-year-old body and the mind of someone over thirty, it was a pretty embarrassing thing to do. But I was willing to throw away my dignity for the sake of my goal.
“Waaah! I won’t accept any birthday present unless I get a pistol!”
“Bessie, calm down...”
“I hate you, Papa!”
Wilhelm’s face crumpled.
If I’d been his son, I’d have gotten a smack with the cane or a stern lecture long ago. Fortunately, this father was strict with his sons but utterly soft on his daughter.
In the end, on the evening of the fourth day, Wilhelm gave in.
“All right. But the chamberlain will keep the ammunition, and you must never load it outside the shooting range.”
“Can I take it to my room?”
“Well...”
I stared at Wilhelm with wide eyes.
“Can’t I?”
It was hard for most people to resist a five-year-old daughter with gorgeous blond hair and the looks of a storybook princess blinking up at them.
Wilhelm let out a deep sigh.
“You must never handle it alone. You may only use it in front of your nanny or the chamberlain.”
“Yes!”
“And you mustn’t take it apart.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked away from Wilhelm.
“Bessie.”
“...Yes.”
And so my birthday arrived.
From early that morning, the maids washed me, brushed my hair, and dressed me in a gown far more uncomfortable than usual. Ornaments adorned the shoulders and waist, and the fabric caught whenever I moved my arms.
“This is so uncomfortable. Can’t I wear another dress?”
“You’re the star today, Your Highness.”
Unlike me, Oskar was wearing a little military uniform. It looked much more practical, and he even had a decorative sword at his waist.
“Let’s switch.”
“No.”
“My clothes are more expensive.”
“Still no.”
A wise decision.
The problem was that Wilhelm was more preoccupied with our newborn baby sister, Victoria Louise, than with Oskar and me, the birthday stars.
“Bessie! Come and look at Vicky! Isn’t she adorable?”
Wilhelm was beaming as he held the baby in his arms. The nanny beside him seemed to remember it was the twins’ birthday and looked flustered.
‘Ugh, Billy being Billy.’
Until recently, I’d been Wilhelm II’s only daughter. I was the first girl born into a family that had one son after another, so I’d naturally had all his love and attention to myself. But after Victoria was born, I got a little less of it.
In truth, I didn’t mind having less attention.
As someone who’d served in the military and earned a master’s in engineering in my previous life, all the fuss over a little girl made me pretty uncomfortable. I could still vividly remember having sword fights with my friends at the bathhouse, so wearing frilly clothes and hearing people call me “our little princess” made something inside me twist.
Still, I’d wanted to be treated like the star of the show on my birthday. But Billy had gone and been Billy.
Fortunately, Wilhelm soon handed Victoria back to her nanny.
“Well, we should give presents to the stars of the day, shouldn’t we?”
At his clap, a servant came in carrying a luxurious wooden box.
‘Here it comes.’
It was the research material I’d spent the past month doing everything I could to get.
When the box opened, two small revolvers came into view.
One was an elaborate piece with ivory and metal decorations on its grip; the other was a plainer, rougher military-style model.
Wilhelm held out the more elaborate one to me.
“This one is yours, Bessie.”
I accepted the revolver with both hands.
It was heavier than I’d expected.
It was a gun scaled down to fit my small frame, but it was still a hunk of metal. Delicate floral patterns were engraved on the grip, and its surface shone like a mirror.
“Ooh...”
A gasp of admiration escaped me.
Oskar was given the military-style revolver.
“Oskar. You’re five now, so you need to learn how dangerous weapons are.”
Oskar had seemed sulky because Victoria had stolen all the attention earlier, but the moment he saw the revolver, his expression brightened. He wiped his hands on his clothes before carefully accepting it.
“Yes, Father.”
“What kind of answer is that? Again.”
“Yes! I understand!”
Oskar’s voice trembled slightly.
It was a moment when I was glad I’d been born a girl. If I’d been born a prince, I’d have been scolded like that every day. As a princess, I’d been spared most scoldings.
Then Wilhelm turned to me.
“Bessie, the same goes for you. You mustn’t treat it like a toy. The chamberlain will keep the ammunition, and you must never load it outside the shooting range.”
“Yes.”
“And in your room, you may only take it out when your nanny is with you.”
“Yes.”
“Above all, don’t take it apart.”
“...Yes.”
Wilhelm narrowed his eyes.
“Never!”
I smiled as innocently as I could.
“I understand, Papa.”
After I received my present, our relatives and the high-ranking nobles took turns offering their congratulations.
Someone gave me a doll, someone else a jewelry box, and there was even silver tableware that I had no idea what I’d do with. I smiled and thanked them as I’d been taught in etiquette lessons, but my gaze kept drifting to the box with the revolver.
An elderly woman held out a doll and said,
“She looks just like you, Your Highness.”
I looked back and forth between the doll’s dress and my own.
Hmm... With platinum-blond hair and blue eyes, it did look like me.
“Thank you.”
I’ll put it beside my bed later.
Oskar received a little military uniform, toy soldiers, and riding gear. He wanted to keep handling his revolver, too, but he only stared at the box, wary of Wilhelm’s gaze.
I couldn’t remember much of how the birthday celebration ended. My mind was already occupied with the revolver’s internal mechanism, its workmanship, and the order in which to take it apart.
As soon as I got back to my room, I put the box on the desk.
“Your Highness, surely you aren’t going to take it out right now?”
“Of course.”
My nanny looked worried.
I carefully picked up the revolver and held it up to the light.
“Ooh... What a radiant beauty.”
“Do you like it that much?”
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t really see it.”
To think she couldn’t appreciate this beauty. My nanny clearly had no eye for firearms.
I set the gun on the desk, opened a drawer, and took out my toolbox. It was the culmination of all I’d learned from killing eight pocket watches.
My nanny’s face stiffened.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
“His Majesty the Emperor told you not to take it apart.”
“I’m not taking it apart. I’m checking how it’s built.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No, no. Not at all.”
“How is it different?”
“Taking it apart is what you do to break it. Checking how it’s built is so you can put it back together.”
“I’ve never heard that definition before.”
“I heard guns break down easily. If it breaks while I’m shooting, I’ll have to fix it myself! To do that, I need to understand how it’s built.”
Leaving my nanny muttering that someone nearby could help if it broke, I turned the cylinder to check that the chambers were empty. I knew there wasn’t any ammunition, but it was a gun, so I had to make sure it was safe.
“Your Highness, what are you looking at?”
“To see if there’s anything inside.”
“The chamberlain took the ammunition.”
“Still, it’s safer to check with my own eyes.”
I pointed the muzzle away from everyone and examined the movement of the trigger and hammer. Thanks to the gun being made to fit my size, my finger could just reach the trigger.
It was simply too heavy to hold with one hand. Less than ten seconds after I extended my arm, the muzzle started to dip.
‘I need to get stronger first.’
I decided I should at least start exercising with my own body weight tomorrow.
I picked up a screwdriver to take the revolver apart in earnest... no, to inspect it.