I Reincarnated as a Prince Who Revolutionized the Kingdom

March 20th, 1693 – Port of Loretto, Corse

The salty breeze swept across the bustling harbor as Prince Bruno stood near the edge of the main dock, his gaze fixed on the captured Republic frigate and ship of the lines being refitted for royalist service. Around him, the port hummed with activity—workers hauling timber, ropes, and supplies; blacksmiths hammering away at iron reinforcements; and carpenters patching up damaged hulls and masts.

Bruno folded his arms, his face impassive but his mind calculating. The damage inflicted by the Republic's siege had been significant, but Loretto's port was alive again. This port, once ravaged by artillery and fire, was now transforming into a hub of royalist strength. Their ability to cross the sea and challenge the Revolutionary Council rested on these very ships.

Captain Vallier approached, saluting briskly. "Your Highness, the repairs on the primary vessels are progressing faster than expected. Our shipwrights say the captured frigate and ship of the line should be seaworthy within the month."

Bruno nodded in approval. "Good. We'll need every vessel ready for war. What's the status of the smaller ships?"

Vallier gestured toward a line of brigs and sloops anchored further down the docks. "The brigs sustained minimal damage during the battle. They're being outfitted to serve as escorts and supply carriers. The sloops will be used for scouting and swift communication. Once the fleet is assembled, we'll be capable of maneuvering quickly and striking with precision."

Bruno took a moment to observe the captured frigate more closely. Its sleek, reinforced hull had originally been designed for long-range patrolling and coastal bombardment. Now, it would be turned against its former masters. Royalist engineers were replacing its Republican flags and insignias with banners bearing the crest of the House of Elysea.

"Walk with me, Captain," Bruno said, stepping onto the gangplank that led to the frigate's deck. Vallier followed, the wooden planks creaking beneath their boots as they boarded the ship.

The deck was bustling with royalist sailors and officers. They saluted as Bruno passed, their faces showing both respect and newfound confidence. Some had been fishermen and merchant sailors before the war, now turned into disciplined members of the royalist navy. Others were veterans of the earlier battles, hardened by the defense of Corse.

"This ship will be key to our campaign," Bruno remarked as they approached the helm. He ran a gloved hand along the rail, his gaze distant. "Once the fleet is complete, we will no longer be confined to Corse. We will retake what is rightfully ours."

"We're with you, Your Highness," Vallier said firmly. "Every man and woman here is ready to follow you back to the mainland. The Republic's hold is weaker than they realize. If we strike swiftly and decisively, we can rally the people and undermine their control."

Bruno turned to face him, his expression thoughtful. "I agree. But we must be methodical. The Republic may seem fragmented, but they are not without resources. Their Revolutionary Army is large, disciplined, and fanatical. If we charge in without a plan, we'll face overwhelming force."

"We've already begun gathering intelligence," Vallier added. "Our spies have reported that the Revolutionary Council is preoccupied with a coalition of monarchies forming against them. The Kingdom of Greater Germania, the Empire of Orosk, and Britannica have mobilized their forces, placing pressure on the Republic's borders."

Bruno allowed himself a small smile. "Good. Let the Council spread themselves thin. The coalition will force them to divide their attention. That gives us an opportunity to strike where they least expect it."

They continued their inspection, moving below deck. The lower compartments were being restructured to accommodate royalist supplies—ammunition, provisions, and medical supplies. A team of carpenters reinforced the bulkheads, ensuring the frigate could endure long voyages and withstand future battles.

"Make sure the armory is stocked with enough ammunition to sustain a prolonged engagement," Bruno ordered. "I don't want us caught off guard if we encounter resistance at sea."

"Understood, Your Highness," Vallier replied.

As they ascended back to the main deck, a group of shipwrights approached, led by a tall, broad-shouldered man with soot-streaked hands. He bowed respectfully.

"Your Highness, Captain Vallier. We've nearly completed repairs on the main mast. Once the new sails are raised, she'll be ready for her maiden voyage under your banner."

"You've done excellent work," Bruno said. "Keep at it. We'll need this ship ready sooner rather than later."

The shipwright nodded and returned to his crew. Bruno remained at the helm, his eyes scanning the horizon. The waters beyond Corse stretched endlessly, a gateway to the mainland and the battles that awaited them. His thoughts drifted briefly to the Revolutionary Council—the ones responsible for his family's death and the chaos that had engulfed his kingdom. He would not let them rule unchallenged.

Vallier stood beside him in silence for a moment before speaking. "The men are eager, Your Highness. They want to reclaim what was taken from us."

"They'll have their chance," Bruno replied. "But we must remain disciplined. Emotions alone won't win this war. We'll strike with strategy and strength. The Republic's power is built on lies and fear. Once the people see that they can resist, the revolution will unravel."

The prince's words carried a quiet determination that resonated with Vallier. The captain nodded firmly. "What are your orders for the next phase?"

"Continue the recruitment efforts. Every able-bodied man and woman willing to fight will be trained. We need sailors, soldiers, and craftsmen. Expand our intelligence network—smugglers, merchants, anyone who can provide information on the Republic's movements. We'll infiltrate their supply lines and weaken them from within."

"And when the time comes?"

Bruno's eyes gleamed with cold fire. "When the time comes, we'll land on their shores and remind the Revolution that they are not invincible. We'll liberate the people they have deceived and avenge the fallen."

The two men stood in silence for a moment, the wind tugging at their coats. The captured ship loomed behind them like a symbol of defiance. And they will use that symbol to destroy what they have constructed.