Chapter 14

A moment of stunned silence hung in the air before Olivier leveled a weighty gaze upon Napoleon III. "Prussia," he declared, his voice low and resonant, "displays remarkable cunning. Exploiting Austria's decline, it has skillfully cultivated both power and allure. Its industrial surge, fueled by Dutch capital, is breathtaking. I foresee a future where Prussia rivals France in strength, provided it overcomes its dependence on Dutch maritime trade and secures a vital Atlantic port. Dominion over the German Confederation is also crucial." He paused, sensing Napoleon III's perplexity. "Your Majesty's concern regarding Prussia is valid," Olivier continued, "but Austria's current weakness isn't our most pressing peril. The British Empire poses a far more immediate and formidable threat." He produced a recently received dispatch, its significance palpable. Napoleon III's countenance darkened as he perused the report, his expression becoming grim. The document's implications were evidently grave. Before he could voice his displeasure and demand verification, a sharp rapping at the door interrupted him. His chief guard's voice called out from beyond.

A furrow creased his brow. His subordinates were acutely aware of his aversion to interruptions during interviews—a fact underscored by the head guard's constant, close proximity. His presence at this late hour, therefore, was profoundly unsettling. Unless a matter of paramount urgency had arisen, Napoleon III's schedule was sacrosanct. Could it be…a catastrophe involving the twenty thousand Mexican troops? The thought sent a jolt through him. "Enter," he barked towards the door, then offered Olivier a conciliatory glance. Olivier, though unperturbed, sensed the gravity of the situation. The audacity of this interruption spoke volumes; only a crisis of immense proportions would warrant such a transgression of royal protocol. The very act of disrupting a tête-à-tête between the Emperor and his Prime Minister hinted at a calamity of unprecedented scale. What could possibly be so pressing? What dared interrupt the deliberations of Napoleon III himself? Intrigue seized Olivier. He accepted the Emperor's apology with a gracious smile and a noncommittal silence, pointedly avoiding the question of his departure. He remained, deliberately, a silent observer. He recognized the arriving captain of the guard, a man who had served Napoleon III faithfully for over two decades, a man clearly held in high esteem. After receiving a curt nod from Napoleon III, the captain entered, pausing slightly upon seeing Olivier. The Emperor's expression, a silent communication, seemed to hold the key to the unfolding drama. The captain approached, his report whispered confidentially.

A wispy voice, barely audible even to Olivier's keen ears, uttered fragmented place names – Belgium, Brussels – leaving the meaning shrouded in obscurity. "What?" Olivier demanded, his frustration mounting. But before annoyance could fully bloom, Napoleon III's abrupt rise, a face contorted with alarm, piqued his curiosity even further, intensifying the Emperor's own palpable hesitation. Quickly regaining his composure – a testament to his European dominance – Napoleon III barked an order to his captain of the guard: "Summon the Privy Council immediately! An emergency session is required!" He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, a hand pressed to his brow, before remembering Olivier, the Prime Minister, standing silently beside him. His gaze found Olivier's expectant face. A wry smile twisted Napoleon's lips. "Our French Empire," he sighed, "faces grave peril." Olivier's perplexed expression spurred a torrent of agitated words. "Our eastern garrison in Lille, this very morning, dispatched over two hundred men across the Belgian border, plunging into the heart of Hainaut province. In the ensuing clashes between Flemish and Walloons, at least one Belgian nobleman of Dutch extraction, along with twenty companions, perished. Over ten more Walloons were killed, with ninety injured. King Leopold I has directed his Prime Minister, Valtaire Frere Orban, to apprehend the trespassing French soldiers and quell the rising unrest. And the worst part? This nobleman was the son of Charles Rogier, a twice-elected Belgian titan of politics, a former Prime Minister of considerable influence." The exclamation, "What!" echoed the stunned silence that followed.

The Belgian-born Rogerie, a formidable political figure and childhood companion of Leopold I, enjoyed the monarch's unwavering confidence as one of his most intimate advisors. His marriage to the daughter of an English aristocrat, orchestrated by Leopold himself, further cemented this privileged position. Leopold's subsequent order for Rogerie's arrest and prosecution, fueled by righteous fury, seemed a foregone conclusion. Yet, could the diminutive Belgian king truly defy the French nation's wrath? Olivier and Napoleon III exchanged a steely gaze, their eyes blazing with French resolve and national pride. Their swift, unanimous decision echoed through history: the honor of France was inviolate, its humiliation unacceptable....A cryptic inquiry—"What's the situation?"—echoed through the halls of power. Napoleon III and his associates weren't alone in receiving this urgent dispatch; William IV of Amsterdam faced the same unsettling news, prompting his immediate search for Tolbek. Bill Charlie, a steadfast companion of over a decade, now thirty-five, had been instrumental seven years prior in his patron's seamless transition to a new identity. His unwavering loyalty and strategic acumen significantly accelerated the process, making him, quite justifiably, the most cherished and trusted confidante. Their relationship was marked by an easy camaraderie, devoid of pretense. The underlying tension, however, was palpable. Dissatisfaction simmered among members of the Catholic bloc, fueled by the perceived suppression of liberal voices during the preceding two legislative sessions. This discontent was further exacerbated by stark regional disparities: the Dutch-speaking north and coast flourished economically, in stark contrast to the impoverished French-speaking east and south, where challenging terrain and scarce resources yielded meager harvests. A clandestine summit of French-speaking leaders, convened in Mouscron to strategize for the upcoming April Belgian elections, aimed to thwart the liberals' bid for re-election. However, this gathering was unexpectedly disrupted by the simultaneous presence of a Dutch-speaking faction. A violent clash ensued, escalating dramatically when French-speaking participants—connected to a French officer stationed in Lille—solicited military assistance. This intervention resulted in a devastating confrontation, culminating in the brutal murder of a prominent young Belgian nobleman and his retinue—more than twenty fatalities and over one hundred wounded. The incident left King Leopold I deeply humiliated, compelling him to order the immediate apprehension and prosecution of the perpetrators.

After a thoughtful pause, Bill Charlie solemnly declared, "Your Majesty, I must remind you: the departed youth was the eldest offspring of ex-Belgian Premier Roger Roger." His measured delivery, deliberate and precise, painted a vivid tableau in the listeners' minds. "What is the French response?" The query hung in the air. Tolbett, silent since his arrival, maintained his composure. This reticence, however, did not signify a lack of cogitation. He strategically allowed others to perceive his unwavering professionalism, his absolute adherence to his mandate: the unwavering execution of His Majesty's commands, the meticulous management of affairs of state. "France remains mute, releasing no public statement." "And Prussia, Britain, Austria? Their positions?" "Silence, or internal deliberations, prevail in those nations. No official pronouncements have emerged." "Remarkable," William IV mused, though the reason was far from enigmatic to him. He understood. Since the Congress of Vienna in 1815, simmering tensions between Belgium's Flemish and Walloon populations had festered into a volatile conflict. Each faction harbored profound resentment toward the other's influence. The Flemish, with their demographic preponderance, their fertile lowlands and coastal access, held an inherent, almost preordained dominance within the Belgian landscape. Their majority population ensured an inescapable power imbalance.

In Belgium, a nation newly forged, the Francophone community, though comprising 40% of the populace, commands a geographically dominant 60% of the territory. This substantial territorial control, bolstered by the formidable influence of the French Empire, creates a potent counterbalance. While sporadic friction exists between the French- and Dutch-speaking factions, a fragile peace, orchestrated by King Leopold I – a British-sponsored candidate – has endured for three decades. This uneasy equilibrium represents a delicate triangulation of power, with Great Britain, France, and Belgium themselves forming the uneasy apex. However, this precarious stability is now threatened. A simmering resentment festers within the British Empire, stemming from Leopold I's penchant for equitable governance, mirroring that of Queen Victoria. The recent electoral victories of liberal, Dutch-speaking prime ministers have ignited a volatile situation. The prospect of another Dutch-speaking liberal assuming the premiership is intensely inflammatory for the Francophone population. Their frustration boils down to a fundamental grievance: a perceived imbalance of power, a feeling of being consistently shortchanged, a demand for equitable representation – "If we concede dominance twice, we expect at least a share of influence in return!"

The moment for Tolbeck's intervention arrived. "Resentment simmers in the French-speaking regions," he declared, his voice resonating with gravity, "a fervent desire for victory permeating every level of society. The Dutch-speaking foray into Hainaut to bolster liberal support thus ignited a furious backlash, escalating into a calamitous incident. France's reticence isn't born of disinterest, but rather a calculated wait for a pretext to meddle in Belgium's internal affairs. However, with Britain, the dominant power broker from Vienna, acting as Belgium's protector, France remains conspicuously silent, granting the British Empire a veneer of deference. Yet, Napoleon III is no pushover, and Olivier, a notorious Anglophobe, burns with resentment towards Britain. Your Majesty, I posit that we need not lift a finger; Belgium will soon succumb to overwhelming pressure." King William IV shook his head thoughtfully. "Let us not underestimate Leopold I," he countered, "the architect of this nation. While many attribute this success to Viscount Paterston, who truly knows the extent of Leopold's clandestine machinations? Does he possess a strategic acumen that surpasses even our own? Therefore, proactive measures are imperative. We must seize the initiative, preempting any rivals and galvanizing international support." William IV regarded Tolbeck with newfound respect. "It appears our clandestine operation, our 'second secret pawn', is demonstrating unexpected initiative. An audacious gambit, indeed. Prime Minister, your tutelage is evident." Humility tinged Tolbeck's response, though a flicker of pride betrayed his modesty. His protégé had exceeded expectations; his mentor's reputation remained untarnished.