"Rejected on the spot."
Falkenheim let out a short laugh.
"I hear those Parliament bastards were rampaging in fury. Saying how dare the 'Empire on which the sun never sets' suffer the humiliation of being 'subcontracted' over some foreign country's colony."
Unlike the word "rejection" that had just left his lips, a look of relaxed composure rose on Falkenheim's face. From our standpoint, it was an offer where we broke even at worst, so it was the United Kingdom that would feel the loss at missing out on the colony's riches.
"But thanks to that rejection, I hear the United Kingdom's interior has split apart in quite the spectacle. Seems their domestic situation isn't entirely rosy either. There's a faction arguing to accept the proposal after revising the word 'subcontract,' and another faction insisting they should give up on the colonies altogether and focus only on domestic issues."
"……It seems the conflict will escalate more than I expected."
"That's right. A very cunning bait, Lieutenant Colonel. A single small pebble you tossed became the fuse for the age-old left-right conflict in Londinium."
The conservative faction of the Victoria United Kingdom were imperialist advocates who believed maintaining the colonies was a matter of life and death.
To them, the colonies were a lifeline supporting the nation's prestige and economy.
And on the opposite side, there was a progressive movement centered on the working class demanding social welfare and national self-determination.
Voices saying not to intervene in foreign wars, to grant independence to the colonies, and to focus only on their own country's problems.
Left and right, red and blue. Progressive and conservative.
It was a commonplace political conflict existing in every era and nation. And the matter of the "Santa Barbara subcontract" that I had casually tossed out became a catalyst that spectacularly ignited the powder keg of that conflict.
"At any rate, rest well for now. Once Elancia stabilizes, His Majesty's royal command will soon arrive summoning you to the Capital."
"His Majesty's command, sir?"
"Yes, my heartfelt congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel Jaeger. You are no longer just an officer, but a major player involved in the Empire's diplomacy as well. Haha."
Whatever Princess Ailett had told the Emperor, she had firmly captured His Majesty's interest with this Santa Barbara affair.
Like father, like daughter, I suppose.
Well, gaining the imperial family's trust and increasing my influence wasn't bad in itself. The only flaw was that along with those gains, troublesome work and enemies would increase proportionally. But that was a risk worth enduring.
"Well then, I'll be off now. Rest up."
"Loyalty."
Soon Colonel Falkenheim departed as well, and perfect silence fell upon the sickroom.
Outside the window, dusk had already settled before I knew it. I sat leaning back at an angle against the bed and cast my gaze into the air.
'Londinium, and the Santa Barbara subcontract.'
I chewed over my conversation with Falkenheim once more.
'How did this blow up to such a scale?'
The affair that started from me had cleaved the United Kingdom's internal politics in two. Come to think of it, an absurd butterfly effect. After all, it hadn't been a move I made while aiming for some grand international diplomatic war.
In the beginning, it was merely a shallow prank. A suitable bait thrown to mess with Sydney Wellesley, a United Kingdom spy who had crawled into my bedroom not knowing her place. From my perspective, it was a light move where nothing was lost if it failed.
But Sydney, who had been disguised as a maid, snapped up that obvious bait, and then Princess Ailett stepped in to inflate its scope, and now it had passed through official diplomatic channels with the Emperor's approval.
What was meant as a means to toy with a mere maid had abruptly become a core diplomatic issue between the Empire and the United Kingdom.
'What matters is how things unfold from here on out.'
Whether this affair ended as a fleeting amusement, or fundamentally shook the United Kingdom across the sea, depended on what came next.
And right now, I possessed a very excellent means to observe Londinium's reactions.
'Vision Sharing.'
[Skill 'Vision Sharing (Lv.1)' is activated.]
[Receiving the designated target's ('Sydney Wellesley') visual information in real time.]
Zzzt—!
A light noise flickered across my vision, and immediately an unfamiliar scene was superimposed over my retina.
An antique chandelier. A grand fireplace. And a splendid reception room lined with red velvet. It was obviously an important location.
"I cannot get through to the Prime Minister at all, Your Majesty. Saying he cannot disgrace the United Kingdom's dignity, he intends to reject the subcontract treaty with the Empire at the parliamentary level."
Sydney was in the middle of pouring out an impassioned report.
But my focus was not on the contents of her report, but on a woman reached by the end of her gaze.
'Oho.'
A woman sitting upright on the antique sofa in the center of the reception room.
Neatly coiled silver hair. Unrealistically firm and flawlessly clear skin. A tranquil, expressionless face from which no emotion could be read—it evoked an image of a meticulously carved wax doll.
'……Beautiful.'
Pure admiration escaped me unconsciously.
I had seen countless beauties—Seraphina, Hanna, Elise, and many more—but the atmosphere emanating from that woman was of a different sphere. Even without being adorned in lavish jewelry, she possessed the dignity of an absolute being who heavily pressed down the surrounding air merely by sitting on the reception room sofa.
'So that's Queen Charlotte.'
Charlotte Ophelia of Hanover-Windsor.
One of the most powerful figures exerting the strongest influence at this point in time, and the symbol of the "country on which the sun never sets" that ruled the largest territory in this world.
But rendering such lofty praise colorless, atop the table lay an irreverent object entirely unsuited to her authority.
A thick document stamped with a large red [REJECTED]. At the very top, the title [Santa Barbara Colony Subcontract Treaty Case - Victoria United Kingdom Parliament] was written.
'Colonel Falkenheim was right. Rejected as clean and decisive as a blade.'
A laugh escaped me involuntarily.
'Amusing.'
No matter how much a king, no matter how much a sovereign—it seems they can't defeat Parliament. The sovereignty of a nation lies with the people. The representatives of the people are Parliament. This is democracy.
The Queen's lips opened.
"How foolish. The word 'subcontract' is but a shell, while its essence is no different from a golden egg. To kick away the opportunity the Empire threw us because of pride."
"I am ashamed, Your Majesty. I should have polished the treaty's wording a little more……"
Sydney lowered her head.
"It is not your fault, Sydney. It is due to the foolishness of the Parliamentarians."
She let out a small sigh and spoke.
"If one word is the problem, we need only change the wrapper to something plausible. Revise the treaty's name to 'Establishment of the Santa Barbara Joint Public Order Maintenance and Economic Cooperation Organization.' And tell Parliament that we have not become subcontractors, but 'joint administrators.'"
"Then as for the Empire……"
"The Empire only needs the pretext of owning that land. They lack the capacity to administer it for the time being. It is a matter that can be resolved through compromise by transferring the entire operational authority of the organization itself."
"Aha. So the Empire holds the name, while our United Kingdom takes the practical management rights."
"That's correct. Then we can satisfy both that troublesome Parliament and the Empire simultaneously."
It was a decent plan. Since the reason a perfectly sound colonial lease treaty had become twisted by the humiliating word "subcontract" was Princess Ailett's caprice, she had found a middle ground that maintained enough pretext to satisfy the Empire while also being convincing to Her own Parliamentarians.
But Queen Charlotte soon pressed her fingers to the space between her brows.
"But whether the Prime Minister and Parliament will accept this revised plan willingly is uncertain. These days, they are pathologically fearful of investing armies or budgets into foreign matters. Really……"
The Queen, rubbing her temples as if stifled, soon raised her head to look at Sydney. A momentary soft light skimmed across her eyes, which had been as impassive as a wax doll's.
"……I'm sorry, Sydney."
The sudden apology from the Queen. Sydney's flustered bow was transmitted through the shaking of the vision.
"It was an opportunity you secured through suffering in a foreign empire's land. Because I am a powerless monarch, I nearly turned your efforts to naught."
"Your Majesty! I merely……"
Sydney's voice trembled.
"It was a duty I naturally had to endure as Director of Royal Intelligence. The hum…… no, the dangers I have experienced are nothing compared to the weight of the crown Your Majesty bears."
'Almost said humiliation.'
I snickered. Queen Charlotte would probably never know in her life what sort of treatment her cherished Sydney had received from me while being made to wear an anal plug.
"Anyway, your devotion cannot be allowed to go to waste. I shall try to persuade the Prime Minister and Parliament somehow. If it is a proposal to create an organization, they will have no pretext to blindly oppose it."
"I am humbled, Your Majesty."
"Not at all. You have worked hard conducting operations in a foreign land. Return and rest well today, Sydney."
"I shall follow your command."
With polite farewells, Sydney's vision lowered to the floor, then swirled. The motion of exiting the reception room after a private audience.
The clack-clack of heels echoing on the marble corridor.
Sydney silently received the greetings of United Kingdom guards and servants she met in the corridor, heading toward her personal quarters prepared in a corner of the palace.
Click.
The door shut and a lock clicked.
Sydney, now alone, let out a sigh.
Through [Vision Sharing], the sight of her undoing her uniform jacket's buttons was visible. Her tightly drawn uniform parted, and a hand wearing a black leather glove loosened the suffocating collar of her shirt.
Rustle. As garments fell to the floor, her slender full figure was reflected in the mirror.
It was a familiar naked form. A narrow waist, ample bosom, and a slender figure trained to solid firmness.
Sydney, now in her undergarments, sat on a small chair in front of the vanity and opened a drawer.
Rattle.
Inside were miscellaneous items like daggers and small pistols. But the bare hand of Sydney, after tossing aside her gloves, reached first toward an ivory chess piece with a slightly dulled tip.
Queen. The most elegant and powerful piece on the chessboard.
Sydney clasped that small chess piece in both hands.
'Status Analysis.'
[Target: Old Ivory Chess Piece (Queen)]
[Special Information: During boarding school days, a symbol of loyalty Charlotte obtained from Sydney Wellesley. The two enjoyed playing chess during their school years.]
'Hoo.'
Caked with the grime of years, it was visibly brimming with an unusual history between the two.
Sydney stared at the chess piece with a hazy gaze. Holding an object steeped in memories of the Queen, what thoughts could possibly be running through her mind?
"I will, no matter what, for Your Majesty……"
'Status Analysis.'
[Name: Sydney Wellesley]
[Emotion: I am the Queen's shadow…!]
Soon Sydney placed the chess piece back and began organizing the leather bag she had hastily packed from the Empire. While pulling out everyday spy items one by one—disguise passports, counterfeit bills, emergency medicines—
Suddenly her hand paused in midair.
"……Why is this here?"
It was a bewildered voice.
And at the end of her gaze, what was caught at the very bottom of the bag was none other than a heavy chunk of metal.
A shameful toy with soft curves and a brilliant purple jewel embedded at the tip.
It was precisely that anal plug which I had forcefully inserted into her backside inside the train from Elancia to the Capital, claiming it was punishment for peeking at classified documents.