The anti-Jewish movement orchestrated by His Royal Highness Crown Prince Edel had led to devastating consequences across the nation: 876 lives lost, 4506 people injured, and 591 homes destroyed. In the aftermath, nearly 30,000 Jews had fled the country. The head of the royal bodyguard relayed these grim statistics to Crown Prince Edel, adding a suggestion of his own. "Should we halt their departure, Your Highness?"
"Forget it, don't stop them," Edel responded, his mind already racing with the next steps. "The main goal now is to arrest the leaders of the Peasant Brotherhood. They orchestrated this riot. It's only just that we provide an explanation to these innocent victims."
The chief of the guard nodded, understanding the intricacies of the Crown Prince's plan. From Edel's emphasis on the Peasant Brotherhood, it was clear that he harbored deep resentment towards the organization.
This is the crucial moment, Edel thought to himself. He knew Frederick, a true advocate for the farmers, and acknowledged that these were fundamentally good people. However, their naivety about the extent of their own power, a power that could potentially threaten the very foundations of the monarchy, was a clear and present danger. Edel saw the threat and knew he had to act preemptively.
As one of the realm's most powerful figures, this crackdown was not just a strategic move but also a repudiation of the social ideals and values he had once embraced in a previous life. It was a baptism of sorts for Edel, though he scarcely realized it.
With orders dispatched through electric waves, military police and secret agents were mobilized across the country.
In Gurgiu County, Fredero had just returned from a mediation meeting with local farmers. The Peasant Brotherhood, being a relatively new and uneducated group, often relied heavily on Fredero's leadership to resolve internal disputes. As he approached his home, a large contingent of police suddenly surrounded him.
"What's the matter, gentlemen?" Fredero inquired.
"We need to investigate an incident involving you, Excellency," the police chief of Giurgiu County explained, his men casting vigilant glances around.
"Please, don't alarm my family," Fredero requested, sensing the gravity of the situation. As leaders of the Brotherhood were rounded up, they faced relentless interrogations until they were forced into confessions.
In the stark confines of Bucharest Secret Detective Prison, Fredero was rudely awakened by a basin of cold water. Before him stood Miloc, a notoriously ruthless interrogator.
"Speak up. Did you order your men to incite the riots and attack Jewish homes, harming innocent people?" Miloc's assistant demanded righteously.
"It wasn't my order. You can't pin this on me," Fredero retorted, meeting Miloc's gaze defiantly.
"Your men have confessed. They claim they acted under your orders. Are you still going to deny it?" the assistant pressed, visibly frustrated by Fredero's staunch defiance.
Fredero laughed heartily, further irritating the assistant who moved to strike him, only to be halted by Miloc.
"Give him a bath and change him into clean, decent clothes," Miloc ordered, surprising his assistant who looked on in disbelief before hurrying out to comply.
After showering and dressing in fresh garments, Fredero stood before Miloc once again.
"May I have a glass of red wine?" Fredero asked.
Miloc signaled for a servant to pour the wine. Fredero took the glass, sipped the wine, and nodded in thanks.
"You're welcome," Miloc replied, then stepped out of the cell, leaving Fredero to hum a tune from his homeland. The melody echoed off the cold prison walls, filling the space with a poignant air until it suddenly stopped.
The assistant approached Miloc, handing him a document. "This is Fredero's confession, masterfully forged to match his handwriting."
Miloc nodded, satisfied with the outcome.
In the subsequent trial of the Peasant Brotherhood for inciting the riots, several members were sentenced to hang, while others were exiled. As for Fredero, he was found dead in his cell, an apparent suicide, and thus was never formally sentenced.
Reviewing the interrogation report, Crown Prince Edel felt a pang of guilt. It was his first time framing someone, and the remorse was unsettling.
One day, while reviewing state reports, Edel read about deaths caused by severe cold. It was a significant number, indicating a widespread issue. This, he realized, was an opportunity to demonstrate the monarchy's benevolence.
"Edel, you seem distracted lately. Don't overthink; this is just politics," King Carol I advised when he noticed his son's troubled demeanor.
"Father, I can't shake off this feeling of sadness," Edel confessed.
"It's normal, Edel. No one is born ready for everything; it takes time. You're only 16, and it's important for you to see the harsh realities of politics," the king reassured him.
"Father, I want to use some of our funds to help the homeless. It might help me feel better," Edel proposed.
"Do it in your name, so the people can see the Crown Prince's mercy," King Carol suggested, understanding that this act might also help boost his son's public image.
Within days, news spread of the Crown Prince's initiative. In every county, he arranged for shelters and hot water for the homeless. The public praised Edel's kindness, seeing a compassionate future leader in their Crown Prince.