Chapter 85: The Paris ‘Card Table’

While Morin was preparing to demonstrate his skills on the Aragon front line, conducting training and validation for infantry tactical improvements, the city of Paris, the capital of the Gallic Republic far away, was enveloped in a delicate political atmosphere.

The Élysée Palace, the former imperial palace of the Gallic Emperor, now served as the center of power for the Gallic Republic.

And in recent days, the eyes of all Paris, and indeed all of Europa, were focused on this ancient palace.

Carriages and automobiles bearing the flags of different nations frequently entered and exited the palace gates, attracting the attention of the entire Parisian media.

The ruling classes of all Europe knew that a negotiation that would determine the immediate future of Europa was about to be held here.

Inside a tastefully decorated small reception room at the Élysée Palace.

The counselors of the Gallic Republic, the Holy Britannian Empire, and the Saxon Empire, along with other low-ranking diplomatic officials, had already held multiple rounds of preliminary contacts.

Compared to the life-and-death struggle on the battlefield, the atmosphere of communication among the diplomatic officials was not quite as tense.

However, the three parties engaged in arduous ‘struggles’ over the preliminary agenda for the negotiations, the order of meetings, and even minor details of etiquette such as seating arrangements and refreshment provisions.

Finally, after expending countless words and energy, they managed to reluctantly settle on a framework, ensuring that the subsequent highest-level talks could focus on the most core issues.

The Gauls demonstrated an unusual enthusiasm for facilitating this negotiation.

Other European countries were somewhat puzzled by the Gauls’ actions.

Because emotionally, the Gauls should have wished for nothing less than the Britannians and the Saxons to fight to the death, with rivers of blood flowing.

The best outcome would be for both to be severely weakened and decline, allowing the Gauls to reap the spoils as the third party.

After all, everyone in Europa knew about the ‘century-long friendship’ between the Gauls and the Britannians, which was anything but solid.

And the Saxons had seized Alsace, Lorraine, and their Mediterranean access decades ago.

Did the ruling class of the Gallic Republic not know these issues?

But reason told them that this war absolutely could not happen on their doorstep.

The Iberian Peninsula bordered Gaul. If the flames of war were to spiral out of control and spread north of the Pyrenees, the situation would become disastrous.

And there was another, more crucial reason.

The Gauls also coveted the newly discovered brilliant crystal ore vein in the Kingdom of Aragon…

If they hadn’t been constantly tied up with issues in their overseas colonies, the Gauls would have intervened in the Aragonese conflict long ago.

No matter whether this ore vein eventually fell into the hands of the Britannians or the Saxons, it was not good news for the Gauls.

Therefore, the best result was to maintain the state of confrontation in the Kingdom of Aragon that existed before the war officially broke out.

Then, they would look for an opportunity to intervene. This could involve joint development among the three parties, but ideally, they could support a pro-Gaulish faction to take power…

Driven by these complex motivations, the Gallic Foreign Ministry put forth extraordinary enthusiasm, playing the role of the ‘Peacemaker of Europa.’

The next morning, the sky over Paris was overcast.

Two ornate carriages, each adorned with its national flag, arrived simultaneously in front of the Élysée Palace.

The Britannian Foreign Secretary and the Saxon Foreign Affairs State Secretary, accompanied by their respective military attachés and secretaries, stepped out of the carriages.

The two met at the palace entrance, exchanged only a brief, cold glance, and then looked away.

Although both Queen Victoria and Albert II had instructed them to closely monitor the other’s diplomatic moves.

Outwardly, however, they could not, under any circumstances, show any weakness.

Thus, even before the negotiations began, an invisible tension already permeated the air.

René Viviani, the Premier and Foreign Minister of the Gallic Republic, was already waiting at the entrance of the Silver Salon.

Seeing the two negotiating principals, he symbolically walked forward a couple of steps to greet them, then shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with both.

The media reporters and official photographers, who had been waiting for a long time, immediately swarmed forward, and the flashlights ignited in a flurry of light.

“Click! Click!”

The sound of camera shutters was incessant, recording this historic moment.

Under the coordination of the Foreign Minister, the three principals stood side by side, facing the cameras, leaving behind a photo that would dominate the front pages of newspapers across the world.

In the photo, the three men’s expressions were inscrutable, just like the Gallic-hosted negotiations—it was impossible to predict the outcome.

After the photo session, the three parties first held a brief, informal conversation that was not recorded.

The meeting took place in a small, closed-off room, attended only by a small number of core advisors.

The specific content of the negotiations remains unknown to the outside world.

People only knew that this closed-door meeting lasted for almost an hour.

When the door reopened, the expressions on the faces of the three principals were noticeably graver than when they had entered.

Clearly, the initial probing and engagement had not gone smoothly.

Following the initial meeting, the formal negotiations began in the magnificent Festival Hall of the Élysée Palace.

The officials of the Gallic Republic’s Foreign Ministry had gone to great lengths for this negotiation.

They specifically chose a huge, triangular negotiating table.

The representatives of the three parties each occupied one side, forming mutual support points, thereby highlighting the Gallic Republic’s mediating role in the talks.

This small detail was a typical Gallic ‘diplomatic maneuver.’

As the large doors of the Festival Hall slowly closed and the closed-door negotiations officially began, the reporters waiting outside scattered like arrows from a bow, racing back to their respective news agencies.

They had to quickly develop photos and write articles.

And they had to be the first to spread the news of the Paris Talks to the world.

Although the specific outcome of the first day’s negotiations was not publicly disclosed, the front pages of major newspapers worldwide the next day were, without exception, dominated by news of the tripartite talks.

The Times, Dresdner Journal, Le Figaro…

Whether Britannian, Saxon, or Gallic, nearly all newspapers published the same photograph prominently.

The joint photo of the ‘Three Diplomatic Giants’—the Britannian Foreign Secretary, the Saxon Foreign Affairs State Secretary, and the Gallic Foreign Minister—taken in front of the Élysée Palace.

In the photo, the three figures, all pivotal on the European diplomatic stage, stood side by side.

Almost all newspapers quoted a deeply meaningful remark made by René Viviani during a brief interview before the negotiations began:

“The situation is under control.”

This sentence, like a pebble dropped into a calm lake, created ripples.

People with different viewpoints interpreted the statement in sharply contrasting ways.

The peace faction believed this was a positive signal that the war was about to end, and the three parties had found a way to resolve the conflict peacefully.

The war faction argued it was merely diplomatic rhetoric, the brief calm before the storm, and the real confrontation had not yet begun.

Meanwhile, the majority of the general public… continued with their peaceful lives.

They were more concerned with recent prices, whether they had enough working hours this month, and when their child’s cough would finally get better…

Three meals a day and simple food: that was the entirety of an ordinary person’s life in this era.

(End of this Chapter)