Paris, France.The Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
"What? A revolution?"
"Yes. Count Louis-Claire de Beaupoil in London sent an urgent message. According to the British government… that is their assessment."
Hearing the fresh news that had just crossed the English Channel, Foreign Minister François Guizot felt as though every strand of hair on his head was about to fall out.
The undersecretary delivering the report looked equally unsettled, but Guizot's first instinct was to prevent this dangerous rumor from spreading any further.
"Who knows about this?"
"Only me. The message was sealed so tightly that no one else could open it. Count Beaupoil also says he hasn't mentioned a word of it to the embassy staff."
"…Good. At least there's that. Beaupoil isn't the type to speak carelessly. Was there a detailed report attached?"
"He says the matter came up during a private tea with the Prince Consort of Britain. The details of the conversation are written later in the report."
Guizot flipped through the pages quickly.
After scanning the contents, he let out a long sigh.
"…So Britain wishes to maintain friendly relations with France and does not want to see our country destabilized. That's how we're meant to interpret this?"
"On the surface, yes."
"If they gave us such information in advance, it means they want something in return. That's what makes this difficult."
Guizot had met Killian Gore-Hanover briefly before the royal wedding and had a rough sense of his character.
A moderate who valued international stability and avoided unnecessary conflict.
It wasn't strange that someone like him would want closer ties with France.
In fact, relations between Britain and France had not been particularly hostile since the end of the Napoleonic Wars.
France had conveniently blamed everything on Napoleon Bonaparte, adopting the stance that the present regime bore no responsibility.
And looking ahead to global politics, it was far better for France to cooperate with Britain and exploit the wider world together than to keep fighting over Europe's narrow territory.
The era of endless European wars was over.
There were far richer opportunities beyond the continent.
And with the Russian Empire increasingly behaving like a bully across Eurasia, Britain and France had even fewer reasons to oppose each other.
"If France thinks this way," Guizot muttered, "Britain likely thinks the same."
He rubbed his temples.
"No matter how I think about it, the Prince Consort has no reason to feed us false information. If France falls into chaos, Britain's own economy would suffer."
"That's correct," the undersecretary agreed. "Perhaps two centuries ago they might have done such a thing, but now our economies are too intertwined. There's no reason for them to deliberately destabilize us."
"So the information is genuine… yet it still makes no sense."
"How could they know something that we ourselves cannot detect?"
The question hung in the air.
Like every other European power, France maintained secret police who diligently suppressed liberal agitation.
King Louis Philippe I had made political stability his primary goal.
Any unrest that might lead to revolution had to be crushed early.
Which was why sweeping political reforms had been halted.
And why bourgeois demands for expanded voting rights had been ignored.
Of course, the bourgeoisie were dissatisfied.
But their anger alone could never spark a revolution.
In fact, some officials quietly hoped they might attempt something foolish.
If they plotted rebellion, it would provide the perfect excuse to crush them completely and strengthen the power of the landed aristocracy.
"Does the prime minister know about this?" Guizot asked. "Has the police reported anything?"
"No, Minister. There has been no such report."
"So either they're hiding it… or they truly know nothing."
Guizot doubted the first possibility.
Although Nicolas Jean-de-Dieu Soult technically held the premiership, Guizot himself shared the closest political alignment with the king.
He was also the most likely candidate to become the next prime minister.
If Soult had concealed information of this magnitude, his political career would be finished instantly.
"So what is it then?" Guizot muttered. "Are the British secretly running a massive intelligence network inside France?"
"We also maintain agents abroad," the undersecretary said carefully. "So Britain probably does the same. But if they truly had such a vast spy network, why reveal this information now?"
"…Good point."
If the information had been obtained illegally, Britain would hardly announce it openly.
After all, every embassy in Europe contained its share of spies.
France did it.
Britain did it.
But genuine state secrets were rarely stolen that way.
No serious government handled confidential matters carelessly enough for embassy clerks to uncover them.
"Minister," the undersecretary said cautiously, "what will you do? The Prince Consort said he would gladly discuss the matter if you came to London."
"…I have no choice."
"But we need an official reason for the visit. We cannot publicly admit that France's intelligence network is inferior to Britain's."
The most important thing was ensuring that the word revolution never surfaced anywhere.
Not even a hint.
If rumors spread, they might trigger the very disaster they feared.
Guizot thought carefully.
"If I travel to Britain, the purpose must appear significant enough to justify a minister's visit."
"…Prepare arrangements. I'll seek the king's permission immediately."
"Yes, Minister!"
Guizot rose from his chair with a bitter mutter.
"Just when it seemed the country was finally stabilizing… now they speak of revolution."
He quickly sent word requesting an urgent audience with the king.
Because Guizot rarely behaved this dramatically, Louis Philippe I received him immediately.
"Come in, Minister. What matter requires such urgency? Has something happened somewhere?"
"In a sense, yes. First, I must ask whether Your Majesty is already aware of this."
Guizot handed over the report.
Even the servants outside the room were not allowed to hear its contents.
The king read it.
His eyes widened, and his hands trembled.
"A rev—… Is this real?"
"The source is Prince Consort Killian Gore of Britain. He summoned our ambassador and asked whether we were aware of the situation. That means he must have some basis for his conclusion."
"…If this is true, it cannot be ignored."
"They invited me to London if we wished to discuss it further. I believe I must go personally."
"Of course. Go immediately."
"And if Britain demands compensation for the information, make the decision yourself."
If the information proved false, France would owe nothing.
But if it was true…
France would owe Britain a tremendous debt.
Guizot nodded reluctantly.
"Your Majesty, however, it would appear suspicious if I suddenly travel to London without explanation. We should prepare a suitable pretext."
"Hmm… yes. If revolutionaries truly exist within France, they may be watching the government's movements."
"What excuse should we use…"
Then the king's eyes lit up.
"Ah, we have the perfect one. Admiral Jean-Baptiste Cécille should soon be concluding his expedition in Vietnam and preparing to sail to Joseon. Use that as the excuse for negotiations."
"Of course. A brilliant idea."
By now Cécille's fleet had likely already left Vietnam and begun heading toward Joseon.
The reason was simple.
Three missionaries from the Paris Foreign Missions Society had been executed there.
Cécille's mission was to protest the incident and, if possible, secure diplomatic relations.
But since Joseon maintained ties with the British Empire, France could not simply act recklessly.
Still, the deaths of three missionaries gave France legitimate grounds for protest.
"I will request British mediation in establishing relations with Joseon," Guizot said.
"And while discussing that issue, I will acquire whatever information Britain possesses."
"Good. I trust you to handle it quickly."
King Louis Philippe's expression remained grim.
During the French Revolution, he had been forced into exile in Switzerland.
He remembered too well what revolution meant.
Once revolution began, even nobles sympathetic to reform could lose their heads.
He had seen it happen to his own father.
The only solution was to destroy revolutionary movements before they could grow.
Given full authority by the king, Guizot crossed the English Channel the very next day under the pretext of discussing Asian affairs with Britain.
If the warning proved true, France would owe Britain an enormous favor.
And deep down, he prayed that Killian's warning was simply a mistake.
"Your Highness," said Charles Wellesley, the British prime minister, "Minister Guizot of France will be visiting London soon. He insists on meeting with you personally."
"With me? For what reason?"
"He claims it concerns Asia—specifically Joseon. Since Your Highness oversees Asian affairs, Parliament agreed that it falls within your authority."
"Joseon, you say."
So France wanted to poke around Northeast Asia now that they had secured Vietnam.
Of course, that was merely a pretext.
The real purpose was to confirm whether the information I had leaked to their embassy was genuine.
Still, it was a clever excuse.
If the matter involved British domestic politics, meeting me would seem suspicious.
But discussions about Joseon would raise no eyebrows.
"Very well," I said. "Arrange the meeting."
"Oh, and Charles. How did Parliament react when the Factory Act passed?"
"As expected, there were many concerns," Charles replied. "Even with the three-year grace period, factory owners fear their profits will decline."
"That's enough. In three years, no one will dare say such things openly."
"By the way, before I conclude negotiations with Minister Guizot, there's something I need your approval for."
"Approval?"
"If the upcoming negotiations with France yield certain… valuable assets, I intend to register them as royal property rather than government property."
"So the ownership would belong to the Crown."
"I simply want to confirm that arrangement in advance."
The fact that France would eventually pay a price was practically guaranteed.
But the crucial question was who would own the prize.
In a few years, once the project became public, the government would undoubtedly try to fund it themselves and claim control.
I had no intention of allowing that.
The knowledge was mine.
The capital would be mine.
Why should the government take the profits?
"If the project is financed by the royal household," Charles said after a moment, "then naturally the ownership belongs to the Crown. That shouldn't be a problem."
"Good. Please obtain Parliament's formal approval as well. This could become quite a large matter. I'll explain the details after the agreement is signed."
"Very well."
At the moment, no one in Britain imagined that France might be forced to surrender something truly significant.
Charles nodded casually.
Later, when Parliament discovered what the Crown had acquired…
I wondered how they would react.
Perhaps I should personally attend Parliament and give a speech.
They would surely beg me to sell the rights to the government.
No.
Absolutely not.
Unlike in the original timeline, I had no intention of eventually returning it to Egypt.
With that thought, I rose from my seat and began drafting the secret agreement that awaited François Guizot, who was even now crossing the English Channel toward London.