If someone were asked who the richest man in Europe was right now, the names Baring or Rothschild would probably come up.
But as James once admitted himself, if one counted all the hidden assets that never appeared on paper, the richest man in Europe was very likely me.
TL/N: James, Steward or Front man of Killian's companies.
The problem was that most of those assets were officially registered under James's name.
Using them openly could create complications.
It might not matter now, but when the time came to pass wealth down to James's children—or to my own—there would inevitably be trouble.
Just imagine how James's children might feel.
All their lives they believed their father was the richest man in the world.
Then one day they discover he was really just a salaried manager.
And the inheritance they receive turns out to be far smaller than they expected.
Even if they still ended up with fortunes greater than most magnates on earth, the difference between "the richest man in the world" and merely "extremely wealthy" was enormous.
To avoid that sort of dispute, it was time to start transferring assets back into my own hands.
Of course, if I simply bought up James's companies outright, the truth would be obvious.
So the process needed to look natural.
That was where the canal came in.
Building, maintaining, and operating a canal required immense capital.
But the profits were equally astronomical.
In the twenty-first century, the Suez Canal generated nearly ten trillion won ($6,732,691,930) a year.
There was no need to say more.
And given how laughably weak financial auditing was in this era, laundering money through a few large enterprises would be child's play.
Eventually the canal could be placed under royal ownership.
But for now, it was far better that I held it personally.
Naturally, if a single individual—even a royal—declared he intended to own such a massive canal, people were bound to be shocked.
For a moment I wondered if the matter might simply pass without objection.
But that hope proved short-lived.
"Your Highness!" Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount of Palmerston exclaimed, finally recovering his voice.
"Surely you cannot mean that you personally intend to own the canal…"
People who kept arguing after a matter was already settled rarely won any popularity.
"Henry, do you still have concerns?" I asked calmly.
"Well… purchasing the shares alone will cost an enormous sum. Forgive my impertinence, but do you actually possess that kind of money?"
"If I didn't, would I be trying to buy it?"
"…You're not planning to take out loans against royal assets and repay them later, are you?"
"I already said royal funds won't be touched."
"This will be financed entirely with my personal wealth."
"Of course I'll borrow from banks if necessary—but that will have nothing to do with the Crown."
I had already coordinated with James long ago.
With the Rothschild banking family prepared, withdrawing funds would present no difficulty.
"In that case," Henry continued cautiously, "what will happen to the canal's ownership afterward?"
"I'll operate it properly," I said.
"And when the time is right, I'll transfer it to the royal household. That should settle everything neatly."
Once the money laundering was complete, the canal would naturally become royal property.
There was no need to rush.
And by that time, the difference in wealth would likely be so vast that Parliament might be asking the Crown for loans.
Technically, if the canal were a royal enterprise, the British government could claim some stake.
But if it belonged to me personally, government interference would become extremely difficult.
After all, I wasn't just any private citizen.
I was the **British Royal Family's Prince Consort.
Any attempt to manipulate matters would carry enormous political risks.
If they had known things would turn out like this, they would have agreed to the canal becoming a royal project from the beginning.
But spilled water could not be gathered again.
Now it was too late to reverse their stance.
By this point Benjamin Disraeli and Charles Wellesley had already accepted the situation.
Even Henry fell silent.
That left only William Gladstone.
After a moment of thought, he nodded.
"…Very well. If we look at this rationally, the fact that Britain—despite its poor relations with Egypt—could control the canal would already benefit the national interest enormously."
"And if Your Highness eventually transfers it to the royal household, the canal will effectively belong to Britain anyway."
That was true enough.
The royal family was practically the symbol of Britain itself.
"Well," I said, rising slightly in my seat, "since the leaders of both parties and the prime minister have all agreed, I will proceed accordingly."
"Your Highness," Disraeli asked curiously, "how exactly did you persuade France to sell its shares so easily?"
"That's actually why I summoned everyone here today," I replied.
"It's not just about the canal."
"I wanted to discuss something else as well."
"In a few years, Europe may experience a massive upheaval."
"Wouldn't it be wise for Britain to prepare and decide how we intend to benefit from it?"
"…A massive upheaval?"
The Liberal members blinked in confusion.
But Charles narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning forward.
"Is this connected to the factory legislation we passed with a three-year grace period?"
"You once said factory owners' attitudes would change after three years."
"Exactly," I said.
"And according to current analysis, Europe is highly likely to experience major wheat failures beginning next year or the year after."
"If we prepare in advance, Britain could sit safely across the river while the continent falls into chaos—and profit from the situation."
"Wait," Disraeli said slowly.
"Did you promise France canal ownership because of that information?"
"Yes. I shared a portion of the intelligence with them."
"If France believed it," Disraeli said quietly, "then it must be extremely credible."
"Would you mind explaining in detail?"
If Europe truly descended into turmoil while Britain remained untouched, the opportunity would be unprecedented.
Moments ago the politicians had been arguing over canal ownership.
Now their expressions had changed completely.
They immediately began debating how Britain could exploit the coming chaos.
No matter how fiercely they fought each other day to day, give them a chance to profit legally from another country's suffering—
and they suddenly became the best of friends.
Yes.
This was the British Empire I knew.
And a global hegemon ought to behave exactly like this.
By redirecting attention toward exploiting Europe's troubles, their concerns about the canal quickly faded.
After all, when an opportunity arose to take advantage of the entire continent, who cared about a canal that hadn't even been built yet?
When I returned to the palace in high spirits, my angel was already waiting to greet me—along with two little angels.
"Back early today," Queen Victoria said with a smile.
"Did the meeting go well?"
"I explained the situation and left early," I said. "Parliament and the government will continue discussing things themselves."
"That's good," Victoria said, gently lowering the child she was holding.
"Papa."
"Oh, there you are. Edward, Father's here."
Children grew astonishingly fast.
It felt like only yesterday he had barely been able to walk.
Now he was practically trying to run.
If only I could record moments like this forever.
Unfortunately, this era had no video cameras.
Unlike his sister Princess Adelaide, who was still sleeping peacefully in her crib, Prince Edward toddled over and clung to my leg.
"Papa, water play."
"Water play?"
"Boat toy!"
He proudly showed the small wooden boat in his hand.
Victoria laughed warmly.
"He saw ships on the River Thames the other day and wouldn't stop asking for one. So I bought him a toy. He refuses to put it down."
"A boat already?" I chuckled.
"Perhaps the future master of the Royal Navy has taken an interest early."
Victoria rolled her eyes.
"That's quite an interpretation."
"Well," I said, smiling at Edward, "Father just received permission to open a huge waterway in Egypt where ships can pass."
"Maybe one day Edward will run it."
Victoria blinked.
"Wait. Parliament actually approved that?"
"Not exactly," I admitted.
"So I told them I'd build it with my own money first. Later, when Edward inherits it, it can become royal property."
"Ah," she said, nodding. "That's clever."
"And besides," I added, "Parliament will be too busy worrying about revolutions in Europe to pay attention to what I'm doing."
In other words, as long as I funded the canal myself, they had effectively given their blessing.
And that meant not only the Suez Canal.
There were plenty of other places where canals could be built.
"Suez," I murmured to myself.
"And perhaps even Panama Canal someday."
Add Alaska and a few other strategic regions to the royal portfolio, and the prestige of the British royal family would never decline—even in the twenty-first century.
Of course, in modern society public support mattered more than anything.
But that could be handled through proper education.
"So, Edward," I said cheerfully, "shall we go ride a real ship tomorrow?"
"Okay!"
"Little sister scared of boat," he added.
"Well then," Victoria laughed, "since you're the big brother, you'll protect your sister, won't you?"
"Yes!"
Then Edward suddenly declared proudly:
"Workers of the world, unite!"
…Wait.
What?
I blinked slowly.
"Edward," I asked carefully, "where did you hear that?"
"Beard uncle who came to see Papa. I saw him practicing in the yard!"
"…Ah."
That bearded uncle could only be one person.
Karl Marx.
I coughed.
"That phrase actually means 'I'm a fool.' If you say it in front of others, they'll laugh at you."
Edward immediately covered his mouth.
"Edward not fool. Then I won't say it."
Good.
Crisis averted.
For a moment I had nearly ended up with a communist crown prince.
Honestly, Karl.
If you're going to rehearse revolutionary slogans, do it in your room.
Not in the palace courtyard.
Still…
If February Revolution was approaching, that meant something else was close as well.
The publication of the The Communist Manifesto.
It would probably differ from the one in my original history.
But Karl would certainly produce something significant.
Which meant I should guide things slightly—
just enough to ensure that the word "communist" did not become synonymous with violent revolution.
History's turning point was already very close.