Soon, the carriage slowly came to a stop before the City Palace square.
Count Montyon looked at the young "assistant" seated opposite him and said quietly, "Your Highness, we're here."
Charles put away the "script" his brother had given him and nodded steadily. "Please rest assured, I'm prepared."
The two then stepped out of the carriage one after the other and, under the watchful eyes of the Pulis Royal Guard as if they faced a great enemy, strode proudly toward the Prussian officials standing nearby.
One hour later.
In the Hall of Mirrors of the City Palace, Prussian Prime Minister Baron Stein pressed both hands hard against the table and said through gritted teeth:
"We are far from defeated!
"Even if Berlin has fallen, His Majesty the King will still command the army in Königsberg and fight France. The war will continue!
"With the Allied Forces' enormous advantage in troop numbers, we will reclaim our lost territory step by step and achieve final victory!"
"Victory?" Count Montyon, the French Envoy, leaned back in his chair and said blandly, "Very well. Let us suppose the Allied Forces truly win the war. What would that have to do with Prussia?"
Baron Stein answered without hesitation, "Of course it does. We are also a member of the Allied Forces."
"No, no, you are mistaken." Count Montyon shook his head with a smile. "That victory would belong to Austria, to England, Russia, Hesse, even Saxony—but it alone would not belong to Prussia."
Baron Stein snorted. "Please put away your clumsy attempts at sowing discord."
Count Montyon ran his fingers over his cane and asked, "How many troops can your country still conscript now?
"Let me guess. Thirty thousand? Hmm, perhaps only twenty thousand?"
Several high-ranking Prussian ministers in the hall all kept silent with