xymnovel Chapter 313 The Secret in the Pocket Watch
Chapter 313 The Secret in the Pocket Watch
Chapter 313 The Secret in the Pocket Watch
Constantine leaned back in his wide chair, the firelight from the fireplace warming his cold fingers.
He unfolded the letter.
The familiar, elegant yet powerful Prussian cursive German script came into view.
The letter carried the scent of a rose perfume from Paris that he knew well and that Sophia loved most.
He brought the letter closer and took a deep breath.
That delicate fragrance, mingled with the scent of ink from the paper, flowed like a clear spring through his parched heart.
He began to read.
Sofia's letter contained not a single empty word of comfort, nor any complaints or lamentations.
Her words were like those of a close comrade-in-arms, reporting everything that was happening back home to him.
She described the interesting things happening in the palace to him in a playful tone.
"Connie, you'd never guess what our little Alexander did yesterday." While his father was strolling in the garden, he bravely launched a full-scale attack on the draft of the new agricultural tax bill in the royal study. He used an entire bottle of Prussian blue ink you brought back from Berlin to add many futuristic artistic touches to those dry articles. When his father returned, his mustache was practically bristling with anger, but looking at the little guy's innocent yet proud expression, he could only shake his head helplessly. I think this is the first time our future king has exercised his veto power."
Upon reading this, Constantine's face, which had been as taut as a rock, finally relaxed slightly. The corners of his mouth involuntarily turned upwards.
He could picture that scene.
His own father, the majestic king, looked helplessly at the little troublemaker who had made such a mess, his beard bristling and eyes wide.
The next paragraph of the letter takes a sharp turn, becoming serious and precise.
With her keen political sense, Sofia analyzed the recent trends in public opinion in major European newspapers.
"—I noticed that after three consecutive days of extensive reporting on our victories in the financial markets, the French newspaper Le Figaro suddenly published an editorial yesterday entitled 'The New Balance in the Balkans and France's Far Eastern Interests.' The article's wording was very subtle; while praising us, it also implicitly mentioned France's traditional influence in Syria. I suspect that the French negotiators may have privately offered the Ottoman Empire some exchange terms that we are unaware of."
"—And then there's the British newspaper, The Times. Their editorial is even more interesting. It makes no mention of the disagreements at the negotiating table, but instead devotes a great deal of space to introducing Deutsche Bank's recent investment in the Baghdad railway project. This seems like a warning to the Germans, but I think it's more like a reminder that what the British are really afraid of is not a powerful Greece, but a Greece that is too close to Germany."
Sofia's analysis was spot on.
The details she pointed out were even more insightful and incisive than the encrypted telegrams sent back from London by Alexandros, the Director General of the Royal Intelligence Service.
Constantine read the letter, and unconsciously nodded slightly.
He felt that Sophia was sitting opposite him, wearing his favorite light purple dress, brewing him black tea while looking at him with her clear blue eyes, analyzing the intricate game of chess with him.
He is not fighting alone.
He finished reading the letters, neatly folded them, and set them aside.
Finally, he picked up the last remaining letter.
He noticed that the thickness of this envelope was unusual. It was thicker and stiffer than the previous ones.
He carefully used a letter opener to cut open the seal.
The letter is unfolded.
A rose petal, flattened but still retaining its deep red color, slipped quietly from the folds of the letter.
It gently drifted down into Constantine's palm.
The petals were already dry, and the edges were even curled up, so fragile that they seemed to shatter at the slightest touch.
But Constantine felt that the slight weight in that palm was frighteningly hot.
It seemed as if the bright afternoon sun of Athens still lingered there, along with the salty wind blowing from the Aegean Sea.
His gaze returned to the letter.
This letter contained no lengthy discourse, no current affairs analysis, and no trivial family matters.
There is only one line of text.
A line of German text written in the most beautiful and elegant Prussian cursive script.
The handwriting was more forceful and the ink was darker than ever before.
"I kissed it, and now, carrying my kiss, it goes to kiss you."
A short line of text.
The moment Constantine saw it, he felt as if a huge yet gentle warm current had struck his chest.
He stood frozen in place, motionless.
For days, the weariness, pressure, loneliness, and anxiety that gnawed at his will like a malignant tumor had been growing in his bones.
..
Before this line of words, before this petal, everything crumbled and vanished like ice and snow exposed to sunlight.
He was not a lone time traveler.
It is not a cold, calculating machine that exists solely for the purpose of dominating the world.
He is a husband.
A man who is cared for and deeply loved.
Behind him lies his country.
His home is there.
He has a queen.
He has his Athena.
Constantine closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and exhaled a long breath.
That long breath seemed to expel all the gloom that had been building up in his chest for weeks.
for a long time.
He opened his eyes.
A light rekindled in those tired eyes.
He opened the gold pocket watch he always carried, engraved with the double-headed eagle emblem of the Greek royal family.
This pocket watch was a gift from his father, George I, to him on his coming-of-age ceremony, and he always wore it close to his body.
He carefully picked up the delicate rose petal with his fingertips.
The movements were so gentle, as if touching a sacred relic.
Then, he gently placed the petal, which carried a thousand words and a woman's full love, into the lining of the pocket watch cover.
"Click".
He closed his pocket watch.
The cold metal casing pressed tightly against his palm.
He clenched his fist tightly.
The cold metal, at this moment, seemed to have a heartbeat, striking his palm bones forcefully, one beat after another.
This petal will be his most private medal.
This pocket watch will be his strongest armor.
When he was alone, facing the malice of the entire old world, it reminded him of what he was fighting for.