London, Claridge's Hotel.
After the Austrian Empire's delegation returned to its lodgings, Baron Bruck closed the door and held a brief meeting. Then he allowed the members of the delegation to go about their business freely.
Although Franz had bought the hotel, its staff had mostly remained unchanged, especially the waiters and servers responsible for guest services.
So the news naturally reached the ears of British intelligence, and the meeting immediately caught the attention of the heads of Britain's four major intelligence agencies.
They spent a great deal of money to obtain the minutes of the meeting, only to be bitterly disappointed.
The contents seemed to consist of little more than a few words of encouragement and a reiteration of some secrecy regulations. Still, they could infer from between the lines that the Austrians did not intend to leave London anytime soon.
Whitehall, Foreign Secretary Palmerston's office.
"That's right, sir! As soon as we received the news, we took decisive and resolute action—"
Before the head of the Diplomatic Intelligence Office, Faustino Haywood, could finish speaking, he was slapped hard across the face. Palmerston was furious.
"Even a pig knows the Austrians won't leave anytime soon! They haven't achieved their objective yet! Your four intelligence agencies used more than thirty agents and spent over a thousand pounds, just to come up with that worthless piece of obvious nonsense?"
To be fair, Faustino Haywood, head of the Diplomatic Intelligence Office, had held a high position for a long time. And given the sensitive nature of his work, there were very few people in all of Britain who dared not show him respect.
Yet now, after Palmerston had taken him apart with a few cutting remarks, he didn't dare utter a word in protest.
"I'm sorry. My subordinates failed to do their