Chapter 412: Britain's New Strategy
Old Mr. Grenville sighed, pressing on:
"But this mess... you're very likely to become the scapegoat for future troubles. Even Marquis Wellesley, an exceptionally brilliant statesman, ended up in an extremely wretched state trying to handle it."
"You're absolutely right," Lord Grenville affirmed with a serious nod. "I was never particularly outstanding growing up. In politics and strategy, I'm nowhere near Marquis Wellesley, nor, for that matter, the previous Foreign Secretary, Duke of Leeds."
He chuckled awkwardly. "To be honest, I still haven't quite figured out what trick the French used to overcome Marquis Wellesley."
"Then why would you still..."
Lord Grenville straightened his back. "However, I did grow up among those exceptional individuals, and I picked up one useful skill: a knack for quickly spotting other people's strengths."
"And so?"
"What do you suppose has kept the French invincible in their struggle against Britain over the past two years?"
Old Mr. Grenville paused, then shook his head.
His nephew offered a slight smile.
"Truthfully, I haven't entirely figured it out either. But I *have* identified a significant advantage for the French: their international standing has been exceptionally favorable these past two years. This allows them to leverage external forces for whatever they pursue. Meanwhile, we—well, we were recently scrutinized by all of Europe for 'inciting revolution in the Southern Netherlands.'"
If Joseph had overheard these remarks, he would have undoubtedly given Lord Grenville a nod of approval, perhaps even told him that this international climate was the fruit of his own meticulous efforts—after all, he'd read the history books.
Old Mr. Grenville's gaze sharpened, and he slowly nodded.
"Indeed. So, what do you propose?"
...
Versailles Palace.
Inside the spacious palace theater, a buzz of excited chatter arose:
"Oh, it's His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince! He's actually on stage!"
"He's so incredibly handsome, my heart feels like it's melting..."
"The Crown Prince looked at *me*! Did you see it? He looked right at me!"
"Your Royal Highness, you are simply too perfect. Who could ever win your heart...?"
Dressed in a blue and white theatrical costume, Joseph stepped onto the stage. He bowed to Queen Mary, today's celebrated 'birthday star,' with a hand over his heart, then commenced his performance.
After numerous rehearsals, he had shed his earlier awkwardness. With practiced ease, he picked up a glass bottle from the wooden table, tilted his head back, and took a large swig. Then, glancing at the bottle in his hand, he declared:
"It seems a bottle of Paris Cola is precisely what's needed to boost alchemy's efficiency!"
As his line finished, several prepared servants began distributing exquisite glass bottles to the nobles seated in the front rows.
Those who received the bottles picked them up curiously to inspect them, finding a "Paris Cola" label beneath which read the smaller text: "Royal Designated Drink."
Realizing this was the very beverage the Crown Prince was enjoying, they eagerly popped open the caps and began to sample it.
"Ergh—" A Duke couldn't help but let out a resonant burp, feeling an immediate wave of lightness wash over him. The sweet taste, carried by the burp, bloomed on his tongue—it was utterly delightful.
Disregarding the impropriety of his earlier burp, he immediately gulped down several more large mouthfuls of Paris Cola, his eyes narrowing in sheer bliss.
This effervescent drink was simply superb! He instantly resolved to buy several cases and store them in his cellar when he returned home.
Nobles in the back rows, who hadn't received any drinks, craned their necks to watch those in front reveling in the taste, involuntarily swallowing hard.
It wasn't that Joseph hadn't prepared enough beverages; rather, he had deliberately orchestrated a 'hunger marketing' ploy—the scarcer it seemed, the more delicious people would imagine it to be.
In the central VIP box on the second floor, Louis XVI also let out a burp, then raised his glass bottle to Queen Marie beside him.
"You absolutely must try this. How does our son always manage to concoct such surprisingly good things?"
Immediately after, Anne, portrayed by Alexandra, made her entrance, walking directly to her cousin Hunter's side. However, she first raised a hand to caress the tall bookshelf.
"The family's precious alchemy texts can only be safely stored in bookshelves crafted from particleboard."
Joseph nodded. "You're absolutely right. Particleboard furniture is not only sturdy and durable, lasting several times longer than ordinary wooden furniture, but it's also naturally pest-resistant, reducing the risk of texts being damaged by insects."
"I wonder where such innovative and superior furniture can be procured?"
"I heard a new furniture store named 'Yiju' recently opened in Paris, just southwest of the Louvre District..."
The nobles in the audience, who had seen other troupes perform this scene, were utterly dumbfounded—how was this so completely different from previous renditions?
Weren't Anne and Hunter supposed to be discussing Level Five alchemy? Why have they started talking about furniture?
Still, what exactly was this "particleboard furniture" they were mentioning? It sounded rather extraordinary...
London.
10 Downing Street.
"Taste this; it's a fine vintage from my personal collection." William Pitt Junior handed a glass of wine to his old friend. "So, as you were saying, how exactly do we dismantle France's diplomatic advantage?"
Lord Grenville inhaled the wine's bouquet, then offered a faint smile.
"Firstly, we must not be overly greedy. To try and grasp everything will ultimately leave us with nothing. Consider the Southern Netherlands, for instance. We poured vast sums and diplomatic capital into separating it from an unruly Austria, only for France to ultimately claim Luxembourg."
William Pitt Junior nodded thoughtfully. "Go on."
"And that, in turn, drove Austria closer to France," Grenville continued. "Now is the time to abandon the Southern Netherlands.
"Austria will be grateful, and simultaneously, it will render France's influence negligible.
"Furthermore, Prussia withdrawing its forces to Silesia will exert greater military pressure on Austria, and we can seize that opportunity to mediate between the two nations.
"After that, whether we direct Austria's attention towards Serbia or Poland, we can significantly diminish their reliance on France.
"This is the international dynamic we require. Directly 'dueling' with the French will only exhaust our own strength. The correct path to victory lies in utilizing the power of other nations against them."
"Abandoning the Southern Netherlands strategy..." William Pitt Junior drew a deep breath. "This will provoke even fiercer attacks against me from the Whig Party."
"I'll do my best to persuade the old guard within the party," Grenville said, smiling as he raised his wine glass. "Once we manage to curb the French momentum, they will all naturally be content."
...
France.
Versailles Palace.
Louis XVI raised the glass bottle and offered it to his perspiring son.
"Joseph, perhaps you could use a sip."
Queen Mary smiled warmly from the side.
"My dear, you were marvelous! Oh, and Alexandra was splendid too; you both looked so perfectly matched. I mean, on stage."
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