Johann stared into the polished bronze mirror, barely able to contain his laughter.
The face that stared back at him was hilarious.
Gone was the hardened warlord with sharp eyes and a jaw lined with scars.
In his place stood a pale-faced youth with smooth skin, wild golden-brown eyes, and a thin excuse for a mustache that barely clung to his upper lip.
His frame was equally unimpressive—lanky, lean, and completely untested in battle.
He ran a hand through his shoulder-length dark hair, letting out a sharp bark of laughter.
"God above, look at me," he muttered. "A child pretending to be a lord."
But that was the truth, wasn't it?
He had just inherited his father's lands.
Kyburg and its surroundings were his now. His domain, a small but crucial piece of the Alps. A land of jagged mountains, deep forests, and scattered villages clinging to the land like stubborn weeds. Tough people, independent and wary of lords, yet bound by loyalty and necessity.
It wasn't much. But it was his.
And this time, he wouldn't waste it.
Johann exhaled sharply, his grin settling into something sharper, something confident. Arrogant, even. Why shouldn't he be? He had lived, fought, and died once already.
Now, with this second chance, he would outmaneuver every fool who had once stood in his way.
He pulled on his tunic and fastened his belt, nodding at his reflection. "Thin, weak, and young. But not for long."
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"My lord?" Otto's voice came through the wood. "The council is assembled."
Johann rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Good. I'd hate to keep them waiting."
With long, confident strides, he pushed open the doors and stepped into the hallway, where Otto stood waiting. The steward eyed him warily, as if sensing something was different about his young lord.
Johann smirked. "Otto, you look as stiff as an old man. Did you not sleep well?"
Otto frowned. "I slept fine, my lord. I was more concerned about you."
Johann waved a dismissive hand. "Concern yourself with the council instead. They are expecting a boy in mourning. Let's give them a surprise."
Otto's frown deepened but said nothing as he followed.
The great hall of Kyburg Castle was modest compared to the grand courts of Vienna, but it had its own rugged charm. Thick stone walls, long wooden tables, and a great hearth that burned bright against the morning chill. Around the central table sat his advisors—men who had served his father, and now, reluctantly, him.
Johann strode in, his head high, his steps confident. He could feel their eyes on him, measuring, waiting. They expected hesitation, grief, uncertainty.
Instead, he gave them a wide grin.
"Gentlemen," Johann said, taking his seat at the head of the table. "Let's discuss the future of Kyburg."
Silence.
Some of the older men exchanged glances. One of them, an aging knight named Sir Reinhardt, cleared his throat.
"My lord… forgive me, but you seem rather cheerfull, considering your father's passing."
Johann leaned forward, clasping his hands. "My father is dead. No amount of mourning will bring him back. But Kyburg is still here. The Alps are still here. I am still here." He let his eyes sweep across the table. "And I intend to make the most of it."
Murmurs rippled through the room. Otto, standing behind him, shifted uncomfortably.
Johann could feel the doubt in the air.
Good. Let them doubt.
Let them underestimate him.
"Sir Reinhardt," Johann said, snapping his fingers to draw the knight's attention, "you mentioned the surrounding regions, how close are we to an alliance with the Lords of Thun?"
Reinhardt, the aged knight, paused. His armor clinked as he shifted, eyes flitting nervously around the room.
He had been a loyal servant to Johann's father for years and was not used to being spoken to so directly. "The Lords of Thun are still hesitant, my lord. They have been in negotiations with the House of Savoy and—"
Johann raised a hand. "I understand. But we cannot afford to waste time, can we?" He let the question hang in the air.
"No, my lord," Reinhardt answered quietly, lowering his gaze.
Johann's eyes flitted over the map of the region. Kyburg, nestled in the heart of the Alps, bordered several key regions. To the north lay the Duchy of Swabia, to the south, the territories of Milan and the Kingdom of Italy.
The region was mountainous and harsh, with no easy paths between settlements, but it was also rich in resources. He could use that. But only if he could unite the fractured lands.
"Begin negotiations with Thun," Johann ordered, his voice firm. "And send messengers to the Habsburgs. If they still owe allegiance to my father, then I will remind them of that debt."
Sir Reinhardt nodded, but Johann could see the man's hesitation. "As you wish, my lord," he said slowly.
Johann's thoughts shifted back to the politics of the region.
The Habsburgs might be his bloodline, but they had their own struggles with the House of Austria. Johann needed to forge his own path. His father had failed in this regard, unable to push past his own limitations.
Johann would not.
"Well," he began again, addressing the room with newfound purpose, "we will begin by securing an alliance with Thun. The House of Savoy might think themselves powerful, but they're too far away. Let's start by securing the passes between us and Thun, then we'll look to the east. If we're to unite these lands, we'll need both the support of the old families and the people of the Alps themselves."
One of the advisors, a stout man named Markus, hesitated before speaking. "And what of the Duke of Milan, my lord? We cannot ignore the growing influence of Italy in the south."
Johann let out a breath, his face hardening slightly. "Italy is a distant concern for now. We have enough problems closer to home. We will deal with Milan later, after we've secured our position."
The room fell silent again, the council members exchanging glances. Johann could feel the weight of their doubt, but it no longer mattered.
He had a vision, and nothing would deter him from it. He would rise above the petty squabbles of the older lords and carve his own future.
After some useless talking and the meeting was announced over.
"You didn't tell them everything," Otto remarked.
Johann smirked. "Of course not. No need to show all our cards just yet."
Otto let out a slow sigh. "The treasury is bleeding, Johann. The war drained everything your father had. The mines in the mountains produce barely enough silver to sustain the garrison, and the harvest was poor last year."
Johann's gaze darkened slightly.
He already knew this, but hearing it aloud made the reality feel heavier.
"How much time do we have before it becomes a crisis?" he asked.
Otto hesitated. "A year. Maybe two if we cut back on expenses. But we can't afford another failed harvest, and if we can't pay our soldiers, they'll leave for the highest bidder."
Johann exhaled sharply, pushing himself up from his seat. "Then we'll find a solution. I won't let Kyburg collapse because of some bad coin management."
He motioned for Otto to follow as he strode toward the castle's main hall. Sunlight poured through the high windows, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
The air smelled of burning wood and damp stone, a scent he had grown accustomed to.
As he stepped outside onto the castle's upper terrace, his eyes landed on the training yard below. His younger brothers, Wilhelm and Albrecht, were sparring with wooden swords under the watchful eyes of the castle's old master-at-arms.
Wilhelm, the elder of the two at fourteen, was already showing promise, his stance firm, his strikes calculated.
Albrecht, barely ten, was still more reckless, swinging his sword wildly with youthful enthusiasm.
Johann folded his arms, watching them with a faint smile. "At least they're learning."
Otto followed his gaze. "Wilhelm takes after your father. Albrecht… well, he takes after you."
Johann chuckled. "God help him, then."
For a moment, he simply watched them, his mind drifting. He had no wife, no heir, no one to continue his line if something happened to him. His father had been urging him to marry before he died, but Johann had always resisted.
Now, though, the thought lingered.
"Otto," he said suddenly, "what do you think of securing a marriage alliance?"
Otto raised an eyebrow. "You're finally considering it?"
Johann let out a dry laugh. "Let's just say I'm weighing my options. A strong alliance could stabilize our position. Maybe even help with our financial troubles."
Otto nodded slowly. "I'll look into potential matches."
"Good," Johann said, his gaze still fixed on his brothers.
Kyburg had always been a pass through land, a place of rugged mountain paths and treacherous roads that merchants were forced to take if they wished to move goods from the Holy Roman Empire into Italy or vice versa.
In his first life, he hadn't cared.
Trade? Taxes? Infrastructure? Those were things his stewards had worried about while he chased after glory on the battlefield. He had been a warrior first, a ruler second and in the end, it had cost him everything.
This time, he would be different.
He turned to Otto. "Tell me about our trade situation."
Otto blinked at the sudden question but answered swiftly, "Kyburg sits on one of the main overland routes between Swabia and Lombardy. The merchants from Augsburg, Nuremberg, and even Venice pass through our lands, but they resent the tolls we impose. Some have begun using alternative routes through Zürich to avoid us."
Johann frowned. "Zürich doesn't have the same control over the mountain passes that we do."
"No, but they offer lower tolls and better security," Otto admitted.
Johann narrowed his eyes. "Are the roads truly that dangerous?"
Otto hesitated. "Bandits, my lord. The kind that your father never put much effort into removing. And—" He paused.
"And?" Johann pressed.
Otto sighed. "Some of our own knights have been known to… demand more than the standard toll from travelers."
Corruption. Banditry. No wondermerchantswerechoosingZürichover Kyburg.
In his past life, he had barely noticed any of this. As long as the treasury had coin and the soldiers had their wages, he hadn't cared how the money came in. But now, he saw it clearly, Kyburgwasn't poorbecauseofbad luck. It was poorbecause of mismanagment.
He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "I was a fool."
Otto gave him a curious look. "My lord?"
Johann ignored him and pushed off the railing. "The merchants are avoiding us because they don't trust us. That needs to change. No more extortion from our own men. And as for the bandits…" His grin turned sharp. "We'll make an example of them."
Otto nodded slowly. "You're proposing a crackdown?"
"Not just a crackdown. A purge," Johann said. "And when the roads are safe, we'll lower the tolls, just enough to undercut Zürich. The merchants will come back."
Otto stroked his beard, considering. "That could work. But we'll need men to enforce it."
"Otto," he said, turning back toward the keep. "Send word to our knights. I want them all gathered by week's end. We're about to remind everyone that Kyburg is no place for thieves, be they bandits or nobles."
And for the first time, Otto smiled. "As you wish, my lord."