"Dashing, willful and reckless, a lover of women, champagne and speed, Carol drove racing cars and piloted planes, and on state occasions appeared in operetta uniforms with enough ribbons, chains, and orders to sink a small destroyer." this is how a certain British historian described me, the former me at least. It is all true.
Awakening inside the body of a long dead King was a bit of a surprise, especially as this King was inside the pussy of a pretty woman with insatiable appetite for sex and luxury called Elena Lupescu.
Just thinking about it made me hard, not that this new (old?) body of mine could ever be anything else than hard. Medical condition.
The woman I conveniently forgot in Paris as soon as the fateful recall telegram arrived. Instead I brought back to Romania a useful man called Henri_Coandă the inventor of the jet engine and the less-known Coanda-Effect. (or why water tens to follow the shape of a spoon under a sink jet). Most of the fluids physics and all modern transportation relies on this effect though.
Of course, I promised the man unlimited funds to develop a Romanian jet plane, and even sketched for him a rather absurd (for 1930) Concorde jet. Planes today were barely able to reach 300 kms/hr, thus a passenger plane traveling at Mach 2 sounded a bit far-fetched.
But not impossible. I had the impossible in my head already. This surprise was the HOI 4 game menu in my mind. Sure, any educated person could imagine a map and plot countries and capitals
on this map, while well-versed geographers and maritime Captains could draw the Earth's map from memory.
But could they zoom in, and gain detailed knowledge about any country, province, city, resource production or military unit? Could they envision technology levels in well-written, concise terms about how many mind-power hours were needed to research this or that technology?
Was anyone able to calculate the logistics of an amphibious in a few seconds? Yeah, I think so too. By myself, I could outplan any General Staff with ease, or control a planned-economy. Not that I wanted to, but I may need to do so anyways. I desired neither death nor dishonor.
As I jumped out of the train in Sinaia to head for my nice Peles Palace, the Royal residence, I glanced at the awaiting people to find a curious (or infamous) historical character among them. Corneliu Zelea Codreanu , the leader of the Legion of Archangel Michael, or otherwise the death-worshiping Iron Legion.
The man would be useful to my larger purpose, once properly trained to listen and obey. I just nodded knowingly towards him, and went to meet Iuliu Maniu and the other National Peasant Party leaders, those who actually recalled me from Paris to become King. Politics were a fun game to play, at least if you had a HOI 4 menu in your head, to show what each path would lead to.
In this case, for the next 4 years or Peasant government my country will gain +30% agriculture and peasant support. Romania's population was made up of 80% for now, so both their crops and political support were rather important. Plus this was 1930, and a Great Depression was going around, making everyone depressed. I could help a bit.
Later, my (former) wife Princess Helen of Greece and my son, the former King Michael enter my living room, just as the politicians left. Of course, in order to become King I had to depose my son from his King office, not that anyone cared.
"Carol, perhaps you remember your son?" my wife, and the daughter of the King of Greece pointed towards the boy.
"Are you upset Michael? You're not a King anymore, now that I've returned." I asked my son with a wry voice.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"I wasn't really a King." Michael muttered a bit muffled. Or maybe I imagined it. Three year old kids were not very articulate.
I measured my son from head to toes, and he did look exactly like a Hohenzollern. You could (almost) see the inbred features. His mother was my cousin, which wasn't quite healthy.
Oh well. My body was probably even worse. A millennia of royal inbreeding was bound to create genetic problems, of which I had my share. Priapism is not as fun as it sounds, although it certainly had its uses for a pleasant kingly life.
"Anyways, now that we've met, it's time for bed" I demanded in kingly voice. (easy for me)
A nurse came to pick up the boy, leaving me with my (once and future) Queen. Troy was razed for a Helen of Greece too. I shall endevour to match my ancestors.
"At least you left that woman behind." Helen spoke in a royal voice, then came a bit closer. She seemed to be quite in love with me, going by her grabbing my genetic disorder with a competent hand.
"Miss Lupescu is probably climbing the stairway to Heaven already. I did introduce her to a number of French philosophers filled with angst and anxieties. " I whispered in in joking tone, while pawing at Helen's breasts.
"...Still the same horny idiot." Helen answered in a low voice, while blushing heavily.
"Must have inherited something from my mother." I chuckled lightly, and drew Helen into bed. We did need to re-knidle our marital (for the sake of our son and country). Also, my dick was always hard (medical condition).
As for my mother, Queen Maria of Edinburgh was perhaps even worse than me, climbing into any bed she wanted, and many places without a bed. Probably the same genetic disease I had, only the female kind.
Much later, I left Helen to rest, and went to meet the waiting Captain, as Codreanu was called by his Legion.
"My King!" the man offered with a decent bow, then went to sit in front of me in the other armchair.
"Corneliu, my man! I've heard many things about you, even from Paris. Something about being unafraid of death?" I asked pouring myself a drink.
The man hesitated for a second, perhaps expecting a trap. "You're not wrong, your Majesty. Our Dacian ancestors would send their messengers to the Gods, by throwing them into spears. Yet, those who cried in fear never reached Heaven. Just the same, a true Romanian can't join the Legion of Archangel Michael and reach Heaven if he's afraid of death." Codreanu answered in a mystical voice.
I could see from his fanatical eyes, how so many young men would be eager to throw themselves into spears.
I nodded knowingly. "Heaven is great. Still, I'd say it's better to send our enemies to die first. The final sacrifice must be a worthy target. I suspect you're not a big fan of the godless communists in the Soviet Union?"
His eyes glared with hidden anger and hate. "I believe the danger of Zion..." he began, then stopped when I raised my palm. I knew all about his anti-Semite sentiments. They were rather prevalent in this world too.
"The Jews have to go home and Palestine is under British Mandate, while my mother is a British noble. We will deal with that problem. But you, and your Angel Legion, I need you to deal with everyone else who is disloyal. Are you loyal to the King and Country, Captain Codreanu?" I asked in a harsh voice.
"Your Majesty, I dare to claim there is nobody more loyal than I am!" Codreanu declared in a fanatical voice, while kneeling in front of me. A loyal man had to be rewarded.
"First thing first, then. We may need to burn Budapest to the ground again. And I would prefer to do it while there is no Hungarian resistance in my country. You understand?" I hummed in a soft, conspiratorial voice. The Romanian Army did intervene to pacify the Soviet Hungary a decade ago, but they didn't finish the job. No matter, I had the right man for the job just here.
"I understand perfectly, your Majesty. Romanian land is for Romanians only. And I do wish you luck with your Palestine plans." Codreanu announced in a fanatical voice, then rose and left in a hurry. His Legion now had orders from the King and plenty of people to kill.
With the Iron Legion diverted from course, and helping me avoiding the Vienna Diktat that ripped Transilvania from my country under Adolf's pressure, I sipped my champagne while a pretty house-maid arrived with my dinner. Her eyes got a bit too wide when she noticed my permanent boner. I could eat.