I Became the Last Princess of the Brown Bear Kingdom

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Vichy, France had hot springs, true to its reputation as a resort.

Surprisingly, not many knew that there were hot springs in Vichy.

No, the government had decided to transform the capital into a resort town outright.

Now, France had traded its past glory for the title of “Hot Spring France.”

They had even pivoted completely to become a hot spring city, competing on the level of Japanese hot springs.

“Your Majesty, I am Louise, a member of the Order of the Cross of Fire. I will guide you to the hot springs.”

They even provided a specially selected party member from the Order of the Cross of Fire.

I heard that the current Order of the Cross of Fire political party was quite influenced by the Roman Nationalist Party, unlike the original La Roche from history.

The woman named Louise had slightly curly short hair and a rather neat face.

She gave off the impression of a young party member, barely in her twenties.

Looking into her eyes, she seemed like someone who had been brainwashed, almost giving off a puppet vibe. But no, that couldn’t be true.

I could just refuse the courtesy of France, fearing they would later turn against me! It felt like that was a possibility.

“However, it’s unusual for you to be a party member.”

Surely, they didn’t hurriedly recruit a member just to make me comfortable.

“The Gauls must study together, regardless of gender, protect the country, and work for the Roman Emperor!”

There’s something off about this. If they’re saying they work for me during the Restoration of the Monarchy rhetoric, what’s that about?

Nonetheless, their mindset isn’t bad.

She feels like an original Maria. Should I call her the French Maria?

“Oh, I like that mindset.”

Clap, clap, clap.

I lightly applauded.

And they even refer to themselves as Gauls, what standard does La Roche use to select party members?

They don’t seem like your typical members.

You know, like those with a different resolve than others? And they come in young packages, too.

“I graduated from the Gaul National University founded by Leader La Roche.”

“Aha, I see. So La Roche raised her personally.”

“Yes. We were taught that as Gauls, we must follow Rome.”

Is that perhaps some form of hypnotic brainwashing?

Ah, whatever. I don’t plan to dig too deep.

It’s not like I threatened anyone with a sword; La Roche will handle it.

Maria seems to have a fondness for this.

“Oh, I see that you like this individual.”

“What’s there to like? We’re here to check out hot springs, so let’s keep it casual and just guide me to the hot springs.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

There wasn’t much to guide me on.

The party member from the Order of the Cross of Fire who had been with me from France had driven me to Vichy and was now welcoming me.

The hot springs I saw firsthand were truly exceptional.

“Oh. Ooooh. This is incredible.”

Check out that hot spring, it’s striking.

Clearly, it’s equipped with top-notch facilities by today’s standards.

When it comes to “hot springs,” it looked far superior to the baths in the Kremlin.

I heard that there were no people at all, isn’t that a bit concerning?

“They’ve prepared a hot spring for private use as well.”

“No, I’m on a trip, I can’t possibly do that.”

To put it bluntly, I can’t hog something that everyone should be using just because of me.

“On the contrary, that’s precisely the problem. Given Your Majesty’s exceptional beauty.”

Everyone knows my looks aren’t exactly shabby.

“What’s exceptional about my looks?”

“Think about it. Wouldn’t people notice you straight away?”

Oh, so that’s how it is.

This face is perfect; it’s recognized anywhere in the world.

With a look like this, if I share the space, wouldn’t they wonder if I’m the Tsar?

“Oh, that’s a fair point.”

Phew, in that case, it loses its significance.

Once I found myself in the hot spring, the feeling was strange.

In my past life, had I ever been to a hot spring after turning 60?

I think I only ever went to Japanese hot springs as a child.

Apart from that, I remember nothing but the apocalypse. As I was about to enter the hot spring, I suddenly looked down and was greeted by quite a remarkable chest.

“Oh.”

“Your Majesty, is something wrong?”

Bathing in the Kremlin was something I did regularly, so it didn’t bother me. But seeing it this way felt oddly unique.

Wow, I really do have this body, huh?

It hit me directly and it was absolutely incredible. Words failed me.

Recently, I’ve been sensitive about age, but realizing I still have firm skin felt strange.

“I’ll wash you further.”

“This is France, it’s proper I help you.”

Maria II and Louise were washing my body.

Then suddenly, I noticed that Maria II was quite impressive for someone with children.

Yeah, it’s amazing in every sense. Or perhaps it’s because she has kids.

Is this the greatness of motherhood? I’m not sure, but Maria II appeared astonishing in the hot springs.

“You’re phenomenal.”

“In comparison to Your Majesty, it’s nothing.”

Well, I can’t help being the strongest, that’s a fact.

But aside from that, my body is my body and others’ bodies are theirs, right?

True, my body is outstanding, but it makes me feel the essence of the project “Maria” willing to serve me wholeheartedly.

This also applies to Louise from the Order of the Cross of Fire.

It’s as if La Roche is saying, “You are beauties chosen to serve the Tsar!” Meanwhile, Louise in the hot spring is…

If I were to write a novel, how could I express it? Perhaps saying, “She was freakishly stunning!” would suffice.

Ah, this is somewhat torturous.

I have the position of Tsar, and the dignity of a Saint!

It’s a bit awkward in a hot spring in France and not the Kremlin.

“Ugh. This is totally out of control.”

“Excuse me?” “No, it’s nothing.”

Phew, it’s best to endure things like this.

Feeling my eyes wonder at this age is a bit much.

It shouldn’t be me blushing just because I see my own body.

Anyway, my original body is now useless, and this body is mine.

Feeling shy about it now feels a bit weird.

“Then let’s wrap this up quickly.”

We should finish this soon and get some playtime.

“I hear Mint Chocolate ice cream is waiting.”

“Oh, the French people really know their stuff.”

Isn’t this the definition of a heavenly realm?

You know that saying, “The original is always the best”? In this world, my mint chocolate will become the original.

When various mint chocolates spring up in the future, I’ll be like, “Back in my day, Romanov mint chocolate was the best,” and I’ll be revered as a master in the mint chocolate community.

Hmm, but seeing Mint Chocolate spread in France makes me think de Gaulle and La Roche might know a thing or two.

So, is it time to meet those two now?

—

Vichy Government Office

The de Gaulle I met after a long time looked like an old man covered in wrinkles.

Has he worn out rebuilding the nation? Has age really caught up with him?

“It’s been a while, General de Gaulle.”

“It’s an honor to meet Your Majesty the Tsar. How many years has it been?”

Seeing de Gaulle again, he had indeed aged considerably.

It’s about time the great figures I knew started to fade away.

It’s a bit sad and a little heart-wrenching.

I won’t show it, though. He’s a Frenchman after all.

Back during WWII, there was much chatter about nuclear bombings.

“It has been quite some time. Now the general is becoming an old-timer.”

“Hahaha, it’s an odd thing to say, Your Majesty. Still, I have no intention of dying just yet. For a unified France.”

Unified France.

He must want to sneak that concept into the conversation, right?

It’s been several decades since we parted ways with Burgundy, hasn’t it?

Well, I think that’s unavoidable. Yes, it was sufficiently fragmented. The North was practically in total British hands.

That said, I peeked at de Gaulle.

“They say you are the one who inherits General Pétain’s will.”

So he’s seen as the one to carry on Pétain’s legacy.

At least that’s how it’s portrayed here in France.

“It’s not really carrying on anything. With my age, I should have more to show for it.”

Still, he did make an effort.

It’s clear he supported me during the Civil War. I hold that fact in high regard.

I want to use the decision of the Restoration of the Monarchy to somehow restore Burgundy. Something like that.

“Right. You want to restore the monarchy?”

Right now, I am in a very good mood.

To be honest, I could color this with the hues of the Rome Treaty and make each nation’s borders resemble local boundaries, but still, thinking of the power dynamics, giving Burgundy completely to France wouldn’t be bad either.

Of course, it has to be worth it.

To begin with, Germany taking Burgundy is something even I see as an unfavorable power balance.

“Yes. I intend to restore the monarchy. Presently, I have no particular means to do so.”

“Hmm, could it be that my French isn’t good enough? You mention Restoration of the Monarchy, yet saying you have no significant means? What does that even mean? Are you implying there are practically no alternatives other than the Restoration of the Monarchy?”

I sensed something was off from before.

What’s going on in this guy’s mind? He seems to want to say a lot.

“There are no houses to support.”

No houses to place on the throne? Don’t kid me.

“There should at least be something from Spain, right? Also, there’s Bonaparte.”

There would be plenty of crowns to give to France.

They can’t all have perished in war, can they? If you’re from a notable family, you’d typically have survived the war.

If he suddenly tells me there are no candidates for the throne, how should I take that?

After all, every European country is connected by blood, right?

“So I have a new method to suggest.”

He seemed to slyly glance at me while rolling his eyes.

“What on earth are you getting at? Are you really suggesting we put some homeless person from the street on the throne?”

No way that’s the actual plan.

Then what could be the hidden agenda behind setting this up?

“If Your Majesty would come forth,”

“Haha, what? Me? Romanov?”

In that instant, I felt my head spinning and my limbs shaking.

Has de Gaulle finally lost his mind? Is he suffering from dementia?

He may be at an age where dementia is plausible. But still, I didn’t think he’d let me bother him in a situation like this.

“Yes. If the Romanov family could take over the French throne, wouldn’t it be possible to at least provide Burgundy? After all, you’re talking about a Dual Monarchy here.”

Is he suggesting we establish a Triple Dual Monarchy for Burgundy?

To get Burgundy, he’ll go to these lengths? Well, it’s just a form of self-protection in the end.

Let’s say they get Burgundy; they’ll still want to resolve the antagonistic relations with Germany and France.

Sure, France would see it as a normal choice.

Truth be told, if they’re ready to give me the crown to get the Burgundy back, no other families would have a shot. They’d think, “Could this bastard really be serious?” and would only play their cards against me, making it impossible to get Burgundy.

But if they offered it to me, receiving the throne in exchange for Burgundy could work out well. Why should I even agree to that?

“I don’t have a reason to accept that.”

“Isn’t the reason that France divided its land to begin with because we couldn’t trust each other? Didn’t you want to minimize influence as much as possible?”

“Go on.”

De Gaulle continued, bowing respectfully and beseechingly.

“Simply put, the northern part, yes, the French Commune, attacked the British and decimated the British Army; the hostilities are far from minor, so it’s no wonder the mainland had to cede land. But.”

“But what?”

“Burgundy seems a stretch. Germany has nearly regained its territory prior to WWI, even Luxembourg.”

Point taken. The German Empire has indeed almost fully restored its lands.

Though Bavaria or whatever has broken away, in return, they’ve taken Alsace-Lorraine and Luxembourg, gobbling it all up.

But that’s what it is. France should be grateful for merely regaining its mainland territory, right?

“You should be grateful for having retrieved the mainland.”

“Aren’t the signatories of the Rome Treaty meant to unite? For the true revival of Rome, the Roman Emperor must be the Emperor of all nations.”

That’s a compelling argument he presents.

“Is that truly how it works?”

“I’ve heard that even nations like Britain with current monarchs are looking to connect with the Romanov dynasty in the future. Then, wouldn’t it be reasonable for a nation that isn’t even a monarchy to step up like this?”

He’s suggesting a switch straight to monarchy and offloading it onto me.

It wouldn’t feel right, like he’d be handing me a crown just for my delight. That’s not happening.

After all, I can’t even recall all the titles I hold. How did I even come to have terms like Messiah and Only God attached to me seamlessly?

“Sure, I can see some logic there.”

Strangely, he possesses a peculiar persuasiveness.

“Above all, think it through carefully, Your Majesty. This is the crux of the matter.”

“What is it?”

At that moment, our de Gaulle suddenly began to pull out a map.

“Look here. Doesn’t this setup seem terribly inconvenient? Let’s forget about Switzerland stuck in the middle. But look at this: Burgundy. Doesn’t it stand out too much here?”

Yeah. Inspecting this map, it does seem hugely inconvenient.

How on earth did they manage to create such a mess like this?