xymnovel Chapter 315 Kings and Politicians
Chapter 315 Kings and Politicians
Chapter 315 Kings and Politicians
Constantine turned away, not lingering in the living room.
He left the still-shocked delegation members with a resolute back view and walked straight back to his study.
The door closed behind him, shutting out all the gossip and speculation.
In the study, sunlight streamed through the window, casting a bright beam of light that swirled and danced among the dust motes. Constantine didn't waste a moment; he walked to the enormous desk that held countless orders and documents, and pulled out a chair.
He did not sit down.
The man's tall figure cast a shadow on the table. He took a stack of high-quality letter paper bearing the royal double-headed eagle emblem from a drawer. Instead of first drafting a formal, meticulously worded letter for official records, he simply unscrewed the cap of the Parker gold pen that had been used to sign countless important orders.
He wanted to reply to his queen, his Athena.
The pen moved swiftly across the slightly yellowed letter paper, making a soft scratching sound. He didn't write a single tender love poem, nor did he describe the endless London rains or the weariness of his solitary struggle.
What he wrote was about war.
He wrote down in the most concise yet powerful language the "comprehensive solution" he had just devised in the living room in front of everyone—a solution powerful enough to shake up the old order of Europe—and gave it to Sofia.
"—We will no longer passively respond to their every challenge, but will proactively propose a completely new framework encompassing territory, trade, shipping, and finance. I call it the New Order of the Eastern Mediterranean."
"—The core is a free trade zone centered on the port of Piraeus, which will be used as bait to divide the alliance of interests between Britain and France. The French are eager to break Britain's maritime hegemony, and they will be tempted."
"—At the same time, hint to Austria-Hungary about the possibility of cooperation on the southern section of the Balkan Railway, thereby restraining their ambitions in Thessaloniki."
What he shared with her was never romance or poetry.
What he shared with her was the blueprint of the empire, the chessboard of the world, and the chessboard in his mind where fierce battles were raging.
This letter is not a family letter.
This is a declaration of war sent to the entire Old World.
This was the most exquisite love letter he could give her.
Because he knew that only Sofia could fully comprehend the immense ambition and deadly intent hidden between the lines. Only she could understand why he was willing to risk angering all of Europe and embark on this path of overturning the playing table.
The pen nib paused at the end of the letter.
Constantine's gaze fell on the cold, newly written strategic plan. A moment later, his pen fell again, scribbling down a sentence that belonged only to the two of them, their most intimate words.
He used German, their most intimate language.
"My dearest Sophia, the hunt has begun. I will bring back the old wolf's pelt for you, to use as a rug."
That cunning, arrogant old wolf who lurks at No. 10 Downing Street, the Marquess of Salisbury.
After writing the last letter, Constantine put down his pen.
He picked up the letter, but instead of blowing on it to dry the ink, he simply waited for it to air dry naturally. Then, he carefully folded the letter and placed it neatly into an envelope that also bore the royal crest.
The orange-red sealing wax melted under the flame of the alcohol lamp, dripping onto the seal like a drop of congealed blood. Constantine picked up the personal seal that represented his authority and stamped it down heavily.
The double-headed eagle emblem is clearly imprinted on the sealing wax.
After doing all this, he reached out and shook the brass bell on the table.
The bell rang crisply, its echo lingering.
The study door was pushed open silently, and Alexandros Dimitriopoulos appeared in the doorway without a sound, as if he had blended into the shadows. He didn't ask any questions, but simply bowed and awaited orders.
"Send this letter back to Athens as quickly as possible."
Constantine handed over the scalding hot letter.
"To be personally handed over to Her Highness the Crown Princess."
Alexandros accepted the envelope with both hands, his movements steady, as if he were receiving a military order concerning the fate of the nation.
He took a step back, preparing to turn and leave.
"Wait," Constantine called out to him.
In that instant, the tenderness in Constantine's eyes vanished completely, leaving only a sharp and calm gaze.
"Notify Antonio Petalas to contact Mr. Morgan immediately and activate the stress response exercise in our contingency plan."
Constantine's voice was low, yet had a metallic quality.
"The first step is to have Petaras' fleet, along with all the cargo ships that Morgan can mobilize, reduce the freight rates for cotton and grain from the eastern Mediterranean coast to London by 20 percent within a week."
"I want all British merchants to see a cheaper freight quote. I want to make British shipping not irreplaceable."
Alexandros's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. This was an extremely malicious conspiracy, a direct and brutal breach in the lifeline of the British Empire—maritime trade!
Constantine did not stop.
He issued a series of precise and ruthless commands.
"Secondly, through channels jointly controlled by us and Mr. Venizelos, we will 'inadvertently' leak the complete details of our Eastern Mediterranean Free Trade Zone plan to the commercial attachés of France and Italy. Remember, they must believe that this is top-secret intelligence they themselves painstakingly obtained."
"Third, inform our people in Vienna to submit a letter of intent for cooperation on the 'Pan-Balkan Railway Network' to the Austro-Hungarian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Emphasize that the Thessaloniki-Vienna line could be constructed by an Austro-Hungarian company, provided they recognize our full jurisdiction over the Macedonian region."
"Fourth, get Ahmed Riza's people moving. Have them spread the word in Istanbul and Ankara that the Sultanate is prepared to sell the sovereignty of all the islands in the Aegean in exchange for British asylum. I want to throw the Ottoman Empire into chaos first."
One by one, item by item.
All the instructions revolved around the newly proposed "package solution." Some were responsible for applying pressure, some for sowing discord, some for offering incentives, and some for creating chaos.
An invisible net was quietly cast from this small London study. Every node of it precisely targeted the most vulnerable weaknesses of those behemoths.
Venizelos never left.
He stood at the doorway of the study, not stepping inside, and quietly listened to all the orders Constantine gave.
He looked at the young monarch standing where sunlight and shadow met.
Watch how he transforms personal emotions into cold, hard strategies.
Watch as he breaks down a grand vision into countless crucial, actionable details.
After Alexandros disappeared like a shadow at the end of the corridor, carrying a series of death orders...
Venizelos slowly walked into the study.
He didn't speak.
This proudest politician of Crete, this man who once considered Constantine his greatest political enemy, bowed deeply to his monarch.
He straightened up, and behind his glasses, his eyes burned with an unprecedented light. It was the light of someone who had been captivated by a stronger will and was willingly driven by it.
"Your Highness, I understand."
His voice was no longer one of admonition, but of a vow.
"From tomorrow onward, at the negotiating table, I will be the sharpest knife in your hand."
"I will charge into battle for you and cut through all obstacles."
Venizelos paused for a moment, then spoke his last words in an almost pleading tone.
"And you, all you need to do is take responsibility for achieving the final victory."
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