1885, I came to save Greece

"You're too bold, Connie!"

Prince William abruptly stood up from his chair, pacing back and forth in the not-so-spacious study like an enraged lion.

The oak wood on the floor groaned dully beneath his military boots.

His face showed a mixture of anger and surprise.

Constantine's actions severely wounded his pride.

As the crown prince of the German Empire and the future emperor, he was used to everyone's obedience and admiration.

This is the first time that someone, a crown prince from a weak Balkan country, has questioned his qualifications to his face!

This made him feel an unprecedented sense of anger at being belittled.

At the same time, a completely different understanding was also growing wildly in his heart.

This Constantine is certainly no ordinary person.

The warship blueprint he produced proved that he possessed a strategic vision ahead of his time.

At this moment, his almost arrogant insistence only proved what astonishing contents were contained in that blue folder.

A truly mediocre person would never dare to act in this way.

Constantine remained seated, calmly observing the enraged Prince William, neither humble nor arrogant.

"Your Highness."

His voice rang out, interrupting William's anxious steps.

"It is precisely because I respect you and the German Empire that I must do this."

William stopped, turned around, and stared at him with a scrutinizing gaze, waiting for him to continue.

"That warship blueprint is a gift for you. It is about dreams, about the future, and about the supreme glory of the German Navy."

Constantine's gaze was sincere.

"But this report," he said, turning his gaze to the blue folder on the table, "is not about dreams, it's only about reality."

"Every word in this report is based on cold, hard national interests, on the most brutal geopolitical games on the European continent. It's not romantic, it's even dirty."

Constantine stood up and looked directly into William's eyes.

"Therefore, it is neither appropriate nor should it be used in a romantic proposal ceremony. That would be a desecration of Princess Sofia and an insult to the report itself."

These words were spoken flawlessly.

It cleverly redefines the previous "offense" as a form of "respect".

Respect for William, respect for Sofia, and above all, respect for national interests.

Prince William's anger was largely extinguished by these words.

Constantine accurately grasped his greatest inner conflict.

On the one hand, William was eager to get rid of the shadow of the "Iron Chancellor" who loomed over him like a monument, and he longed to prove to the world that he was the future master of the empire.

On the other hand, he knew better than anyone else that, at least for now, the helm of the German Empire was still firmly in the hands of the old man at 76 Wilhelmstrasse.

Any major national policy that bypasses Bismarck is destined to fail.

Constantine's proposal, seemingly bypassing him, actually gave him an excellent way out.

He directly "kicked" this thorny marriage, a major issue concerning the empire's Mediterranean strategy, onto Bismarck.

If Bismarck approves the report, the marriage will have the endorsement of the Imperial Chancellor, and Constantine will not only win the heart of the beauty (William's sister), but William will also be able to rightfully claim the credit for it.

If Bismarck rejected the report, then it wasn't Prince William who rejected Greece, but rather that "stubborn old man."

It can be used for both offense and defense.

Constantine is both pressuring him and helping him.

Prince William wasn't stupid; he immediately understood the situation.

He sat back down in his chair and remained silent for a long time.

The firelight from the fireplace illuminated his ever-changing face.

Ultimately, he made a decision.

"good!"

Prince William slammed his hand on the table and picked up the blue report himself.

He didn't open it, but held it tightly in his hand, as if he were holding a bargaining chip that would determine his future.

He stood up, walked up to Constantine, and stared intently at him with his sharp eyes.

"Connie, I'll go with you!"

His voice carried a hint of intense competitiveness that had been stirred up.

"I want to see for myself what earth-shattering thing you've prepared that you'd dare get that 'old man' to personally endorse your marriage with Sophia!"

Alexandros, standing to the side, almost stopped breathing, while William's adjutant was so shocked that his jaw dropped.

He had never seen His Highness the Crown Prince display such complex emotions towards a foreign crown prince—from initial contempt, to shock, and now to this mixture of anger, admiration, and intense competitiveness. He had a premonition that everything that had happened in the hunting lodge today would unleash a real storm in Berlin's political circles.

Constantine bowed slightly.

"As you wish, Your Highness."

When Prince William's personal carriage, bearing the Hohenzollern double-headed eagle crest, sped out of the hunting grounds and drove alongside Constantine's carriage toward the center of Berlin.

This news, like a storm, quickly swept through Berlin's political and diplomatic circles.

"Have you heard? His Highness the Crown Prince personally accompanied the Greek Crown Prince to Wilhelmstrasse!"

"My God! Weren't they at the hunting grounds? What happened?"

"What...what kind of signal is this? Is the Empire really going to get involved in the murky waters of the Balkans?"

Countless speculations, doubts, and conjectures circulated rapidly in various embassies and aristocratic salons.

The German prince personally accompanied a foreign crown prince, who had been almost ignored for three days, to meet the imperial chancellor.

This in itself is a small-scale political earthquake!

The signal it sends is far stronger than any official announcement!

The carriage stopped in front of 76 William Street, in front of a building that looked almost too plain.

Through the car window, Constantine saw Imperial officials in black uniforms hurrying along the streets, their expressions serious, like precise gears in a clock. The air was thick with the smell of coal dust and cheap cigars, mixed with the chill unique to a Berlin winter. This was a city built of discipline, steel, and ambition. And he was about to forcefully inject a strikingly different shade of blue, from the Mediterranean, into the heart of this gray-black city.

The gray walls and ordinary windows make it look more like a formal office than the power center of a vast empire.

But every order issued from here can make the entire European continent tremble.

A secretary in a black uniform was already waiting at the door.

He didn't say anything more, but simply bowed and led the two through the quiet corridor.

In a reception room in the Prime Minister's residence, which was just as simple as a military officer's dormitory.

Constantine finally met this legendary figure who had dominated the European continent for nearly twenty years and personally created the German Empire.

Otto von Bismarck.

The old man was still tall and wore a slightly worn Prussian blue military uniform with no extra tassels on his shoulders.

He wasn't sitting behind his desk, but standing by the window with his back to the door, as if looking at the street scene outside.

He only turned around slowly when he heard footsteps.

There were no smiles, no pleasantries.

His wrinkled face had a serious expression, as granite as a rock.

His gray-blue eyes were as sharp as those of an eagle soaring in the sky, carrying a power that could instantly pierce through people's hearts.

Even the usually arrogant Prince William subconsciously toned down his arrogance and appeared somewhat reserved when facing this old man.

Bismarck's gaze lingered on Prince William for only a moment before settling on Constantine.

His gaze swept from Constantine's eyes to the briefcase in his hand, and finally landed on the blue folder that Prince William was clutching tightly.

He pointed to the huge conference table in the center of the reception room.

"Your Highness,"

Bismarck finally spoke, his voice hoarse yet metallic, each word clear and powerful.

"I hope what you brought didn't waste my precious fifteen minutes."