xymnovel Chapter 323 The Glorious Treaty
Chapter 323 The Glorious Treaty
Chapter 323 The Glorious Treaty
The formal signing ceremony of the Treaty of London was held in the familiar meeting room at Lancaster House.
But this time, the atmosphere in the conference hall was completely different from that at the opening ceremony.
Around the long conference table, the clearly defined opposing camps were gone. The Greek delegation was seated between the British and French delegations. They were no longer the "defendants" sitting in the corner awaiting trial, but rather important players in the game, sitting on equal footing with behemoths like Britain, France, Germany, and Russia.
At the end of the long table, the peace treaty, meticulously crafted from the finest white parchment and bound with a magnificent deep blue ribbon, lay quietly on the velvet tablecloth like a crowned queen, awaiting its final sacred moment.
The Marquess of Salisbury stood in the main seat, dressed in a solemn black tailcoat, his weariness concealed by impeccable etiquette. As the chairperson of the meeting, he announced the final text of the treaty to everyone present in concise, emotionless language.
His voice echoed in the magnificent conference hall, each word clear and weighty.
"—The Ottoman Empire permanently ceded all its rights over Crete to the Kingdom of Greece—"
"The boundary between the two sides will be defined by the watershed on the southern slope of the mountain range. The specific demarcation work will be carried out by the International Commission."
"—The participating parties jointly pledged to respect and commit to upholding existing international treaties governing the Dardanelles and Bosphorus Straits to ensure lasting peace and freedom of navigation in the Mediterranean—"
When he finished reading the last sentence, he didn't look at Constantine, or anyone else. It was as if he were simply performing a tedious, routine task.
The moment to sign has arrived.
The order is based on the first letter of the country's name.
Count Karnoki, the representative of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, was the first to step forward. He signed his name with an exaggerated gesture, as if to prove to everyone that the Habsburg dynasty remained an indispensable player in Balkan affairs.
The French representative wore a satisfied smile as he signed quickly, because the "freedom of navigation" clause in the treaty was precisely the wedge that broke the British maritime monopoly.
When it was the turn of the Ottoman Empire's representative, the atmosphere in the hall suddenly became somber.
The elderly Pasha, supported by two young assistants, rose shakily from his seat. Each step he took seemed to exhaust all his strength. The short distance of a few meters from his seat to the signing table felt like an eternity to him.
He picked up the gilded quill pen, specially prepared for signing treaties, its handle inlaid with jewels. The pen felt incredibly heavy in his hand.
The old man's hands trembled so much that he could barely hold them.
His assistant tried to help by supporting his wrist, but he used his last bit of strength to push him away.
In the deathly silence, he finally placed the tip of his pen on the parchment that would determine the fate of the empire.
When his name, that crooked string of characters representing the last dignity of an ancient empire, appeared on the paper, two silent tears streamed down the cloudy eyes of the old man who had served the Sultan his entire life.
He knew that he had signed more than just a treaty ceding territory.
What he signed was yet another weighty epitaph for the Ottoman Empire on the European continent.
Next up is Greece.
It was Constantine's turn.
Under everyone's gaze, he calmly stood up and straightened his collar. He walked steadily to the long table, forming a stark and cruel contrast with the unsteady Ottoman Pasha.
The transition from the twilight of an empire to the dawn of a kingdom was vividly portrayed at this moment.
Constantine did not sign immediately.
He picked up the thick treaty and, as if admiring a perfect work of art, carefully turned each page. His gaze swept over the clauses that had changed the course of Balkan history.
Sovereignty over Crete and southern Epirus shall permanently belong to the Kingdom of Greece.
Greece recognizes and respects the existing international order in the Straits region.
Every word embodies all his hard work, planning, and struggles since he transmigrated.
Under the watchful eyes of all the diplomats present, Constantine laid down the treaty. He picked up his pen and dipped it in ink.
Then, with a smooth yet powerful handwriting, he signed his name, Constantine, at the end of the treaty.
As the last letter was drawn back like a sharp sword, a restrained, polite round of applause filled the conference hall.
But he did not leave immediately.
He raised his head, the light passing over the crowd and through the flickering candlelight, and met the gaze of the Marquess of Salisbury, who sat in the main seat.
Their eyes met, and their thoughts raced.
The Marquess of Salisbury slowly raised his champagne glass, gesturing towards Constantine. His face wore the formulaic, victorious smile.
"Congratulations, Your Highness. For a hard-won peace."
Constantine raised his glass in return, his smile carrying a subtle meaning only the two of them could decipher.
"Thank you, Your Excellency Marquis." His voice carried clearly throughout the hall, "for a new and more stable Balkan, one that you have personally created."
The two men spoke with double meanings, engaging in a silent exchange that only they could understand, even in the final moments before the treaty was signed.
Salisbury congratulated him on his success in "forcing" Greece to comply, thus safeguarding the core interests of the British Empire.
Constantine was grateful that Constantine had "personally" delivered Crete and Epirus into the hands of Greece.
The two men's glasses clinked lightly in the air, producing a crisp sound.
This marked the end of a diplomatic war that had swept across Europe.