xymnovel Chapter 267 The streets were deserted
Chapter 267 The streets were deserted
On the third day after the temporary ceasefire agreement came into effect due to the intervention of the great powers, Constantine returned to Athens.
The long road from the port of Piraeus to the royal palace was packed with ecstatic crowds.
The blue and white national flag, along with olive branches symbolizing the glory of the ancient Olympics, created a sea of jubilation. People scattered flowers in the middle of the road, and shouts of "Victory!" and "Constantine!" merged into a single wave that soared into the sky.
Constantine rode his black warhorse "Storm," wearing no medals and only a battlefield-covered uniform.
His calm face formed a strange contrast with the deafening cheers around him. His gaze passed over the fervent faces and landed on the distant silhouette of the citadel.
The honor guard stood in formation in the square in front of the palace.
High on the steps, Crown Princess Sofia, dressed in a blue gown symbolizing the Greek sky and sea, waited quietly alone.
As Constantine dismounted at the bottom of the steps, handed the reins to his attendant, and walked toward her alone, the cheers of tens of thousands of people in the square fell silent instantly, as if an invisible hand had flipped a switch.
All eyes were on the royal couple.
Under the spotlight, Sofia did not, like an ordinary wife, rush forward to embrace her triumphant husband.
She lifted the hem of her long dress and gave Constantine a standard, impeccable royal curtsy.
This action made all the onlookers hold their breath.
This is not a wife welcoming her husband; it is subjects paying homage to their king.
She then straightened up and took a laurel wreath made of fresh olive branches from a silver tray held aloft by a maid beside her.
She walked up to Constantine, stood on tiptoe, and put it on him herself.
The ancient and sacred ceremony was performed under the Athenian sun.
At this moment, Constantine's image in the hearts of all Greeks was transformed from a crown prince with numerous military exploits into a hero who carried the hopes of the nation, a living legend.
"Simbaseleus!"
After a brief silence, the cheers erupted even louder.
That evening, a grand celebratory banquet was held at the palace.
Envoys from various European countries, Athenian dignitaries and celebrities, and generals who had distinguished themselves in the war gathered together. Wine cups clinked and music filled the air.
However, Constantine only gave a brief toast before leaving the banquet early and returning to his study.
There was no ornate crystal chandelier in the study, only a desk lamp, radiating a focused light.
His attendant, Alexandros Dimitriopoulos, head of the Royal Intelligence Directorate, was already waiting there.
Instead of celebratory champagne, the desk was piled high with thick stacks of files.
Report on the Strength Assessment and Supply Line Analysis of the British Navy's Mediterranean Fleet
A detailed account of the points of conflict between the German Empire and Tsarist Russia in the Balkans.
"The Public Opinion and Potential Investment Intentions of Major London Bankers Regarding the Greco-Turkish War"
Analysis of the personality weaknesses, negotiation styles, and personal preferences of the key diplomatic representatives from participating countries.
Constantine took off his formal attire, changed into comfortable casual clothes, and sat down at his desk.
He knew that the negotiating table in London would be a battlefield a hundred times more dangerous than the plains of Thessaly. There, bullets were a carefully crafted language, artillery fire was cold economic data, and every opponent was far more cunning than Edheim Pasha.
There was a gentle knock on the study door, and the Prime Minister walked in, holding a document in his hands, with a relieved and ingratiating smile on his face.
"Your Highness, this is the list of delegations to London that we have prepared in accordance with custom and after consulting with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."
He respectfully presented the list to Constantine.
Constantine took it and glanced at it.
The list includes veterans of Greek politics and seasoned diplomats. Each of them is well-versed in the "survival strategy" of navigating among the great powers and deeply believes in the old-fashioned rule of "coordination among the great powers."
Constantine picked up a quill pen and dipped it in ink.
He did not cross out any names on the list.
Instead, at the end of that long list, in clear handwriting, he wrote a name that no one expected:
Elephelios Venizelos.
The Prime Minister's expression changed the moment he saw that name.
"Your Highness!" he cried out, his voice filled with terror, "Absolutely not! Venizelos... he... he's an unstable factor!"
The Prime Minister was so excited that his voice stammered.
"His actions on Crete were utterly lawless! He is a republican at heart, an enemy of the monarchy! How could we send such a person to represent Greece, to represent the royal family, at such an important meeting?"
He took a step forward and lowered his voice.
"Taking him to London would be a disaster for us, and for all of Greece, if he were to make any inappropriate remarks there to boost his political reputation!"
Constantine finished writing the last letter and gently put down his pen.
He raised his head and looked calmly at the worried prime minister before him.
"Your Excellency the Prime Minister."
He spoke, his voice calm and even.
"We are about to face a pack of hungry wolves that want to tear our flesh and blood apart. Sir Harding is the wolf king, and Schneider and Orlov are two equally hungry alpha wolves."
"It's useless to send a few docile sheep to wag their tails and beg for mercy from hungry wolves."
Constantine stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the brightly lit banquet hall.
"You must send out a hungrier, more cunning, and sharper-toothed fox."
He turned around, looked at the dumbfounded prime minister, and finished speaking.
"And Venizelos was the most cunning fox in all of Greece."