Loose lips sink ships! The more folks know of this secret the easier it will be to expose. My guess is Queen Louise is smart enough to know this. She'll just have to think up some excuses for why the king is acting so addled.
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Thank you for the kind words! I promise that updates from now will be slower, but I figured I should at least get to the start of the game before I started playing any deeper into it. I'm glad you liked the line! "Queen Anne's Pistol" sounded so fun, I figured I should at least make it a factor.
I am not a Southerner myself but my wife attended college in Georgia. Chicken and waffles w/ syrup are uncannily good.
I have not yet been to Europe but I should be starting a new job before the end of the year that involves much traveling. Hopefully my first posting puts me in or near Europe. I love spreading garlic aioli on my fries, or Chik-Fil-a sauce.
The former is smarter, but the latter is more convincing. Thanks for following!
Thank you very much! I may make use of your tools to continue the legacy of buffoonery into HOI4, should my engagement and attention last that long!
It's probably not even the strangest, historically. Life is stranger than fiction!
Poetry and verse will continue to be a component of this AAR for a long time, as I find it a nice diversion from economics and dialogue writing. This may be the first AAR with an original sonnet composed for it, that's for sure.
I'd have to agree. If anyone would be brought into this benevolent conspiracy, they would need to have much to lose by exposing it.
Queen Louise is likely to be the smartest person in the AAR. She made a rash decision, spurred by grief and desperation, and latched onto a unique opportunity. However, backing down now is certainly the worst option. In for a centiem, in for a franc.
Kings have always acted odd, who's to say it's not actually genius?
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Chapter 1:
Who's Ready for a Cabinet Meeting?
I had spent part of the night refining my accent, to not embarrass myself. As I entered and sat for my first council meeting, I rolled over in my head again the information I had received from Queen Louise. As the only person who knew the truth, I felt that following her lead was paramount to avoiding the kind of disaster that tends to come with having a wildly inexperienced person in charge of a nation.
The Council Meeting room as of 1836, before any participants arrived. Generated with Leonardo AI, touched up by myself and Photopea AI.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." greeted a handsome, thin man to my right.
"Good morning, and a happy New Year to you all," I said a bit slowly. I saw a few of them exchanging knowing looks. Oh God, did they know? Had I given it away already? Visions of the guillotine flashed through my head. Wait, was that in Belgium or France?
"Yes, happy New Year," a clean-shaven man bearing a chest clattering with medals replied, a bit slower even than I. "If His Majesty is willing, I ask that this meeting be no longer than necessary, as it seems many of us spent the evening enjoying the finest fruits of our patron nation."
That brought a round of chuckles from the small group, five beside myself, with two empty chairs evincing the full strength of the council. Thank God, they thought I was hungover! Though a draught of liquid courage may well have steadied my nerve, having my wits about me seemed of greater import for now. Perhaps after.
"Very well," I allowed. "We shall try and make this a brief meeting, though we cannot sit entirely idle." Wait, what was I doing? Before I could remind my brain, once again a Benedict Arnold to my greater will, that I had been intending to keep quiet as much as possible, it had collaborated with my mouth, and I was speaking again. "As it is a new year, I thought it best if we simply went over the state of the nation as it is now. Let us look upon it as if it were new to us, that we, perhaps, may simply solve problems that we are too personally involved with to handle with the objectivity that the matters of the state deserve." If they had doubted my sobriety before, my stumblings to find the French word for "objectivity" and the like would leave no doubt, but I got the point across.
"Quite right." nodded the man who sat across from me, who was currently engaged in a pair of losing battles against a small, evasive piece of sausage on his plate, as well as his hairline. "One more thing, Your Majesty. As we seek to establish the professionalism of the Belgian government, I move that we call roll at the fore of each meeting. Is that agreeable?"
I nodded lazily, trying to hide my excitement. Yes, all these people that I didn't know were certainly allowed to state their names and roles, that would work just fine. Thus settled, the men went around the table, starting with the proposer of the roll call himself.
"Count Barthélémy de Theux de Meylandt, Prime Minister and Minister of Internal Affairs. Present."
The empty chair to his left was dubbed 'Lieutenant-General Louis Evain', and was apparently the Minister of War. "Absent, surveying the troops," noted de Meylandt.
"Or finding someone to berate," remarked the next man around the table. Chuckles indicated that this was the popular interpretation. "Monsieur le juge Antoine Ernst, Minister of Justice. Present." He looked quite young to be a judge but wore a determined expression that made me believe it fully, though he would prove to be more relaxed than one would expect of his station.
The man immediately to my right, the one who had initially greeted me, was next. "Baron Edouard d'Huart, Minister of Finance. Present and fully sober," he chipped in, though this brought a bit of good-natured dissent from his more-induglent peers.
"Leopold. King. Present." I ventured quickly, which brought a bit of mirth to the room as well. I realized belatedly that the broad-shouldered man directly to my left had already opened his mouth to speak when I interrupted him. Kings don't do roll call, do they? Well, I vowed, this one would.
He took his interruption in stride and smoothly filled in his details. "Count Félix de Mérode. Adviser. Present."
Between the 'adviser' and the medal-clad gentleman, the empty chair apparently belonged to "Baron Jean-Baptiste Nothomb, Minister of Public Works. Absent, Ill." The lack of jests at his absence led me to believe it was legitimate and expected.
The man wearing a fortune in metal and ribbons took his turn last of all. "Count Felix de Muelenaere, Minister of Foreign Affairs. Present. Now that we all have been introduced," he intoned, such that we all knew he imagined this was a waste of time. If only he knew! "can we get down to business?" he finished.
"Certainly." de Meylandt replied. "Would you like to proceed first with His Majesty's idea of doing a basic overview of the status of our beloved nation?" He emphasized my assumed title, in my estimation to remind him that nothing was a waste of time if the King willed it.
A brief overview of the nation of Belgium, early 1836.
De Muelenaere had the good sense to look chastened, at least. "Apologies, Your Majesty. As we stand today, our foreign affairs are as much as one would expect, given our history. The Netherlands considers us rivals, as we do the same with them. The unanswered questions of the Treaty of Eighteen Articles remain, as they refuse to recognize our sovereignty. The French army saved us in 1832 and continues to be a check to any attempts by the House of Orange to threaten our independence." The Netherlands had become quite the Boogeyman in my mind by that point. "The Austrians, Russians, and British all see our independence as important to their long-term goals, however. To the east, the Prussians are quite ambivalent towards us. The Dutch possession of Luxembourg is warmer toward us than their overlord. Perhaps we can work towards ingratiating those peoples towards us, and aid them in their liberation from the same yoke we shed." Eyes turned towards me.
The diplomatic status of the early months of 1836.
"Let us focus on improving relations with France, the United Kingdom, and Prussia for now. Powerful friends make for quiet neighbors." I decided. That didn't feel too revolutionary or too soft, and I was rewarded with nods around the table, seemingly satisfied. De Muelenaere sat, and in his stead rose the cheerful Baron d'Huart.
"Sire, our finances are good, and we are making a healthy profit. Even our poor live quite well, at least compared to the poor in other nations. This year, our nation is expected to generate nearly 3 and a quarter million British Pounds worth of income. However, our production lacks glass for our urban areas, and for construction all over the nation. It is driving up prices to unsustainable levels, and hurting the bottom line." he concluded.
"So... we shall buy some more glass?" I braced myself for the inevitable backlash to what was probably a trick question. After a brief pause, they began conferring amongst themselves.
"Well, certainly the market is there-" d'Huart mused.
"The convoys we'd need though-" de Meylandt considered.
"Prussia." stated de Mérode, the calm in his voice conveying the weight of consideration that had been put behind that one word. The others stopped immediately and sat in silence.
After a moment, d'Huart sighed, not unhappily. "Yes, indeed. They have not been doing so much building as of late, and the land border to the Rhine Province means we won't need a single escort ship to import it." I nodded along with the rest of the council.
"Why don't we designate the first load of glass that we get from Prussia to go directly toward the construction of a glass factory of our own?" I piped up, immediately regretting going so.
D'Huart considered for a second, and to my immediate relief, agreed. "I'll send a messenger to Baron Nothomb, and if he agrees, it will be done." Stopgap measures and long-term stability were achieved at once. I was pretty proud of myself. D'Huart wasn't finished yet. "We are also short on engines, and there are no willing trade partners for now. If His Majesty wants to continue his pet project of railroads across the nation, we will need to create a solution for that." First I was hearing of my pet project, but my brief ride on the locomotive had admittedly excited me. "And as the general is gone, I'll simply say that the ten battalions of our army and our single flotilla stand ready. When the truce with the Netherlands expires in August, we will be prepared."
The minister of justice was next to rise, having just one issue he felt was noteworthy. "We've seen a rise in cases of doctors and physicians giving out medicine that is useless or even outright harmful. Often, they're given money or favorable terms from medicine makers or herbal peddlers. It's becoming quite bad. A lower judge has passed a decision restricting the making of medicine to only a handful of respected makers. The list of drug makers stands ready to meet the demand that would be caused."
De Meylandt frowned. "But how do we ensure that the doctors don't simply switch the medicines?"
Ernst pointed at him. "My thoughts exactly. So my proposal is this: we grant the right to distribute the medicines solely to a new type of medical establishment. The doctors will assign a drug to the patient, but they must go elsewhere to actually receive it. By decoupling the prescription from the payment, we can ensure the development of medicines can accelerate and standardize while reducing corruption." I was impressed by the foresight of the young judge. D'Huart was also nodding in strong agreement. The others were less convinced at first, de Meylandt arguing in relation to jobs lost, while de Mérode gave a wise note about undermining public trust in the recently developed doctoral system; lowering trust too much would drive the less-educated into the arms of folk healers instead of the professionals that God had uplifted to help us. In the end, however, it was approved. The pharmaceutical system would be implemented in Belgium, though it was warned that it may be a few years until the benefits were fully seen.
The implementation of Pharmaceuticals would significantly contribute to the health of the common man in Belgium.
Though de Meylandt had weighed in throughout the council (as was his right as prime minister), he had not yet discussed his own agenda. He rose, his commanding voice imbuing his smallest word with authority. "Gentlemen. We are blessed by the Lord and the Holy Virgin to be leading such a proud nation. We are one of the most literate countries in the world, thanks to our benevolent Royal Family. In fact, just this morning, even before this meeting, I was delivered a note from our gracious Queen, stating that they would be reassigning some of the personal administrators of the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to be administrators and educators in the expansion of the Church's schools. This will allow our children, rich and poor, Flemish and Walloon, north or south, to find the truth of God and his holy Church, and to gain the education needed to propel our great nation forward."
I tried not to look surprised and busied myself reading the room. They may not have been as intimately familiar to me as they were to the man buried under my identity, but a lifetime of evoking body language made me quite good at reading it as well. De Muelenaere looked happy, and de Mérode raised an eyebrow, his posture reading pleased as well. D'Huart and Ernst weren't unhappy but certainly were not as delighted as the others, and shot looks at each other across the table, the kind that set a clear agenda for a later, private meeting. I realized for a moment I had no true peers. The lonely thought seeped through my body like the inverse of wine's warming embrace.
"That is very generous, Sire. Thank you." de Mérode chose his words deliberately, breaking my sudden bout of brooding.
I inclined my head. "It is our wish for the nation." Here and there, back home, there was some education, but if I was correct on the extent of the operation that I had apparently signed off on, it was much more significant over here. Still, would rural families be able to spare their children to this system? It seemed imprudent to seemingly contradict myself now, so I resolved to revisit the issue later. I marveled at myself once more. What was I doing, making plans to revisit my own thoughts on government policy?
Again, a thought hit me, this one like a shot fired from a cannon. There was no leaving this position gracefully. What would I be asking the people of Belgium to do? Accept the death of a King, belatedly? Take up arms under an infant, re-fight the war that established the black, yellow, and red flag across the room from me? Say 'farewell' kindly to the charlatan that pretended to be the King? I could hope for exile at best, but I had images of myself in a dark dungeon raving and proclaiming how I was once a king, or executed in the most horrible of ways. No, I was in this forever.
"Sire?" I snapped to attention, realizing all eyes were on me.
"Well... I don't want to make a decision on that today. For today, I will not choose." I ventured, somewhat meekly, not wanting to commit when frankly, my mind had been elsewhere.
"Very well," continued de Meylandt. "His Majesty is not hungry for lunch, thank you." He dismissed the servant that I had not previously noticed, and my stomach chose that moment to lodge a complaint, though mercifully it did so quietly enough that the room did not hear it. Damn it.
My prime minister continued. "As for other business, I would like to let you know that there has been a proposal to pass a law outlawing discriminatory practices against anyone 'sharing a cultural trait with the Flemish or Wallonian peoples'. Of course we are intending to..."
"Support it." Everyone in the room was surprised to hear me say that, myself included. Shock radiated across the room, and I belatedly reproached myself that I should really let people finish their sentences. Having spoken up already, I may as well double down. "All capable of living in peace within Belgium should be allowed to do so, no?"
"Sire, the passage of this law would force our shopkeepers to hire from anywhere, keeping jobs from Belgians. Advanced as we may be, many of our people are still subsistence farmers!" exclaimed de Muelenaere. "This would hurt our small businesses."
The duo of Ernst and d'Huart looked delighted, however, and the latter put forth his own statement in support of the law. "Think, though, of the factories. As we add to the labor demands, should not any man willing to work for the good of Belgium be treated as a Belgian?"
De Meylandt, still reeling a bit from my unexpected support of the Cultural Inclusion bill, as it was titled, put forth his own objection. "These people may not even be Catholics! You would defend those who defame the Pope and the Holy Mother?" He had worked himself up somewhat, then looked at me, realizing he had said too much. It was a feeling I empathized with, in truth. It was no secret that the King was a Protestant, a fact that had not changed even though the man playing the part had.
I calmed him as best I could. "Our nation itself has diverse cultures in it. In the North, the Flemish, and in the South, the Walloon." Of course, this was as obvious to them as explaining that the ocean was wet, but I was fair proud of recalling what the Queen had instilled upon me the night before. "In the end, Count de Meylandt, this is not about forcing outsiders into our system, this is about making sure that honest folks can make a living fairly. 'But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you'. The common people will support this." I could tell he wasn't convinced, but he nodded and bowed his head, eyes slightly narrowed. I realized too late that kings didn't make a habit of saying "folks". This was not good.
The political overview of the "Cultural Inclusion" law.Who's Ready for a Cabinet Meeting?
I had spent part of the night refining my accent, to not embarrass myself. As I entered and sat for my first council meeting, I rolled over in my head again the information I had received from Queen Louise. As the only person who knew the truth, I felt that following her lead was paramount to avoiding the kind of disaster that tends to come with having a wildly inexperienced person in charge of a nation.
The Council Meeting room as of 1836, before any participants arrived. Generated with Leonardo AI, touched up by myself and Photopea AI.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." greeted a handsome, thin man to my right.
"Good morning, and a happy New Year to you all," I said a bit slowly. I saw a few of them exchanging knowing looks. Oh God, did they know? Had I given it away already? Visions of the guillotine flashed through my head. Wait, was that in Belgium or France?
"Yes, happy New Year," a clean-shaven man bearing a chest clattering with medals replied, a bit slower even than I. "If His Majesty is willing, I ask that this meeting be no longer than necessary, as it seems many of us spent the evening enjoying the finest fruits of our patron nation."
That brought a round of chuckles from the small group, five beside myself, with two empty chairs evincing the full strength of the council. Thank God, they thought I was hungover! Though a draught of liquid courage may well have steadied my nerve, having my wits about me seemed of greater import for now. Perhaps after.
"Very well," I allowed. "We shall try and make this a brief meeting, though we cannot sit entirely idle." Wait, what was I doing? Before I could remind my brain, once again a Benedict Arnold to my greater will, that I had been intending to keep quiet as much as possible, it had collaborated with my mouth, and I was speaking again. "As it is a new year, I thought it best if we simply went over the state of the nation as it is now. Let us look upon it as if it were new to us, that we, perhaps, may simply solve problems that we are too personally involved with to handle with the objectivity that the matters of the state deserve." If they had doubted my sobriety before, my stumblings to find the French word for "objectivity" and the like would leave no doubt, but I got the point across.
"Quite right." nodded the man who sat across from me, who was currently engaged in a pair of losing battles against a small, evasive piece of sausage on his plate, as well as his hairline. "One more thing, Your Majesty. As we seek to establish the professionalism of the Belgian government, I move that we call roll at the fore of each meeting. Is that agreeable?"
I nodded lazily, trying to hide my excitement. Yes, all these people that I didn't know were certainly allowed to state their names and roles, that would work just fine. Thus settled, the men went around the table, starting with the proposer of the roll call himself.
"Count Barthélémy de Theux de Meylandt, Prime Minister and Minister of Internal Affairs. Present."
The empty chair to his left was dubbed 'Lieutenant-General Louis Evain', and was apparently the Minister of War. "Absent, surveying the troops," noted de Meylandt.
"Or finding someone to berate," remarked the next man around the table. Chuckles indicated that this was the popular interpretation. "Monsieur le juge Antoine Ernst, Minister of Justice. Present." He looked quite young to be a judge but wore a determined expression that made me believe it fully, though he would prove to be more relaxed than one would expect of his station.
The man immediately to my right, the one who had initially greeted me, was next. "Baron Edouard d'Huart, Minister of Finance. Present and fully sober," he chipped in, though this brought a bit of good-natured dissent from his more-induglent peers.
"Leopold. King. Present." I ventured quickly, which brought a bit of mirth to the room as well. I realized belatedly that the broad-shouldered man directly to my left had already opened his mouth to speak when I interrupted him. Kings don't do roll call, do they? Well, I vowed, this one would.
He took his interruption in stride and smoothly filled in his details. "Count Félix de Mérode. Adviser. Present."
Between the 'adviser' and the medal-clad gentleman, the empty chair apparently belonged to "Baron Jean-Baptiste Nothomb, Minister of Public Works. Absent, Ill." The lack of jests at his absence led me to believe it was legitimate and expected.
The man wearing a fortune in metal and ribbons took his turn last of all. "Count Felix de Muelenaere, Minister of Foreign Affairs. Present. Now that we all have been introduced," he intoned, such that we all knew he imagined this was a waste of time. If only he knew! "can we get down to business?" he finished.
"Certainly." de Meylandt replied. "Would you like to proceed first with His Majesty's idea of doing a basic overview of the status of our beloved nation?" He emphasized my assumed title, in my estimation to remind him that nothing was a waste of time if the King willed it.
A brief overview of the nation of Belgium, early 1836.
De Muelenaere had the good sense to look chastened, at least. "Apologies, Your Majesty. As we stand today, our foreign affairs are as much as one would expect, given our history. The Netherlands considers us rivals, as we do the same with them. The unanswered questions of the Treaty of Eighteen Articles remain, as they refuse to recognize our sovereignty. The French army saved us in 1832 and continues to be a check to any attempts by the House of Orange to threaten our independence." The Netherlands had become quite the Boogeyman in my mind by that point. "The Austrians, Russians, and British all see our independence as important to their long-term goals, however. To the east, the Prussians are quite ambivalent towards us. The Dutch possession of Luxembourg is warmer toward us than their overlord. Perhaps we can work towards ingratiating those peoples towards us, and aid them in their liberation from the same yoke we shed." Eyes turned towards me.
The diplomatic status of the early months of 1836.
"Let us focus on improving relations with France, the United Kingdom, and Prussia for now. Powerful friends make for quiet neighbors." I decided. That didn't feel too revolutionary or too soft, and I was rewarded with nods around the table, seemingly satisfied. De Muelenaere sat, and in his stead rose the cheerful Baron d'Huart.
"Sire, our finances are good, and we are making a healthy profit. Even our poor live quite well, at least compared to the poor in other nations. This year, our nation is expected to generate nearly 3 and a quarter million British Pounds worth of income. However, our production lacks glass for our urban areas, and for construction all over the nation. It is driving up prices to unsustainable levels, and hurting the bottom line." he concluded.
"So... we shall buy some more glass?" I braced myself for the inevitable backlash to what was probably a trick question. After a brief pause, they began conferring amongst themselves.
"Well, certainly the market is there-" d'Huart mused.
"The convoys we'd need though-" de Meylandt considered.
"Prussia." stated de Mérode, the calm in his voice conveying the weight of consideration that had been put behind that one word. The others stopped immediately and sat in silence.
After a moment, d'Huart sighed, not unhappily. "Yes, indeed. They have not been doing so much building as of late, and the land border to the Rhine Province means we won't need a single escort ship to import it." I nodded along with the rest of the council.
"Why don't we designate the first load of glass that we get from Prussia to go directly toward the construction of a glass factory of our own?" I piped up, immediately regretting going so.
D'Huart considered for a second, and to my immediate relief, agreed. "I'll send a messenger to Baron Nothomb, and if he agrees, it will be done." Stopgap measures and long-term stability were achieved at once. I was pretty proud of myself. D'Huart wasn't finished yet. "We are also short on engines, and there are no willing trade partners for now. If His Majesty wants to continue his pet project of railroads across the nation, we will need to create a solution for that." First I was hearing of my pet project, but my brief ride on the locomotive had admittedly excited me. "And as the general is gone, I'll simply say that the ten battalions of our army and our single flotilla stand ready. When the truce with the Netherlands expires in August, we will be prepared."
The minister of justice was next to rise, having just one issue he felt was noteworthy. "We've seen a rise in cases of doctors and physicians giving out medicine that is useless or even outright harmful. Often, they're given money or favorable terms from medicine makers or herbal peddlers. It's becoming quite bad. A lower judge has passed a decision restricting the making of medicine to only a handful of respected makers. The list of drug makers stands ready to meet the demand that would be caused."
De Meylandt frowned. "But how do we ensure that the doctors don't simply switch the medicines?"
Ernst pointed at him. "My thoughts exactly. So my proposal is this: we grant the right to distribute the medicines solely to a new type of medical establishment. The doctors will assign a drug to the patient, but they must go elsewhere to actually receive it. By decoupling the prescription from the payment, we can ensure the development of medicines can accelerate and standardize while reducing corruption." I was impressed by the foresight of the young judge. D'Huart was also nodding in strong agreement. The others were less convinced at first, de Meylandt arguing in relation to jobs lost, while de Mérode gave a wise note about undermining public trust in the recently developed doctoral system; lowering trust too much would drive the less-educated into the arms of folk healers instead of the professionals that God had uplifted to help us. In the end, however, it was approved. The pharmaceutical system would be implemented in Belgium, though it was warned that it may be a few years until the benefits were fully seen.
The implementation of Pharmaceuticals would significantly contribute to the health of the common man in Belgium.
Though de Meylandt had weighed in throughout the council (as was his right as prime minister), he had not yet discussed his own agenda. He rose, his commanding voice imbuing his smallest word with authority. "Gentlemen. We are blessed by the Lord and the Holy Virgin to be leading such a proud nation. We are one of the most literate countries in the world, thanks to our benevolent Royal Family. In fact, just this morning, even before this meeting, I was delivered a note from our gracious Queen, stating that they would be reassigning some of the personal administrators of the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to be administrators and educators in the expansion of the Church's schools. This will allow our children, rich and poor, Flemish and Walloon, north or south, to find the truth of God and his holy Church, and to gain the education needed to propel our great nation forward."
I tried not to look surprised and busied myself reading the room. They may not have been as intimately familiar to me as they were to the man buried under my identity, but a lifetime of evoking body language made me quite good at reading it as well. De Muelenaere looked happy, and de Mérode raised an eyebrow, his posture reading pleased as well. D'Huart and Ernst weren't unhappy but certainly were not as delighted as the others, and shot looks at each other across the table, the kind that set a clear agenda for a later, private meeting. I realized for a moment I had no true peers. The lonely thought seeped through my body like the inverse of wine's warming embrace.
"That is very generous, Sire. Thank you." de Mérode chose his words deliberately, breaking my sudden bout of brooding.
I inclined my head. "It is our wish for the nation." Here and there, back home, there was some education, but if I was correct on the extent of the operation that I had apparently signed off on, it was much more significant over here. Still, would rural families be able to spare their children to this system? It seemed imprudent to seemingly contradict myself now, so I resolved to revisit the issue later. I marveled at myself once more. What was I doing, making plans to revisit my own thoughts on government policy?
Again, a thought hit me, this one like a shot fired from a cannon. There was no leaving this position gracefully. What would I be asking the people of Belgium to do? Accept the death of a King, belatedly? Take up arms under an infant, re-fight the war that established the black, yellow, and red flag across the room from me? Say 'farewell' kindly to the charlatan that pretended to be the King? I could hope for exile at best, but I had images of myself in a dark dungeon raving and proclaiming how I was once a king, or executed in the most horrible of ways. No, I was in this forever.
"Sire?" I snapped to attention, realizing all eyes were on me.
"Well... I don't want to make a decision on that today. For today, I will not choose." I ventured, somewhat meekly, not wanting to commit when frankly, my mind had been elsewhere.
"Very well," continued de Meylandt. "His Majesty is not hungry for lunch, thank you." He dismissed the servant that I had not previously noticed, and my stomach chose that moment to lodge a complaint, though mercifully it did so quietly enough that the room did not hear it. Damn it.
My prime minister continued. "As for other business, I would like to let you know that there has been a proposal to pass a law outlawing discriminatory practices against anyone 'sharing a cultural trait with the Flemish or Wallonian peoples'. Of course we are intending to..."
"Support it." Everyone in the room was surprised to hear me say that, myself included. Shock radiated across the room, and I belatedly reproached myself that I should really let people finish their sentences. Having spoken up already, I may as well double down. "All capable of living in peace within Belgium should be allowed to do so, no?"
"Sire, the passage of this law would force our shopkeepers to hire from anywhere, keeping jobs from Belgians. Advanced as we may be, many of our people are still subsistence farmers!" exclaimed de Muelenaere. "This would hurt our small businesses."
The duo of Ernst and d'Huart looked delighted, however, and the latter put forth his own statement in support of the law. "Think, though, of the factories. As we add to the labor demands, should not any man willing to work for the good of Belgium be treated as a Belgian?"
De Meylandt, still reeling a bit from my unexpected support of the Cultural Inclusion bill, as it was titled, put forth his own objection. "These people may not even be Catholics! You would defend those who defame the Pope and the Holy Mother?" He had worked himself up somewhat, then looked at me, realizing he had said too much. It was a feeling I empathized with, in truth. It was no secret that the King was a Protestant, a fact that had not changed even though the man playing the part had.
I calmed him as best I could. "Our nation itself has diverse cultures in it. In the North, the Flemish, and in the South, the Walloon." Of course, this was as obvious to them as explaining that the ocean was wet, but I was fair proud of recalling what the Queen had instilled upon me the night before. "In the end, Count de Meylandt, this is not about forcing outsiders into our system, this is about making sure that honest folks can make a living fairly. 'But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you'. The common people will support this." I could tell he wasn't convinced, but he nodded and bowed his head, eyes slightly narrowed. I realized too late that kings didn't make a habit of saying "folks". This was not good.
"Very well, Sire. I shall ensure it gets to the Parliament floor." he deferred. "That is all I have for this meeting. Thank you for coming, everyone. If you requested lunch, it will be served shortly." I had survived, but at the moment, the prospect of sitting there hungry while the rest ate seemed almost worse than my nightmares of execution. I was granted a pardon from that fate by the arrival of a messenger clad in a hat that seemed to balance on his head by the will of God alone.
"Your Majesty, Her Majesty requests the honor of your presence when you are finished with the meeting," he said, bowing but keeping the hat atop his head.
As I finished the twin brainteasers of the first four words in his message and the remarkable survival of the hat's position, I nodded to him. "Very well, lead the way." I gave my goodbyes to the council and was nearly away free when my daring escape was confounded.
"If I could but steal a moment of His Majesty's time, I would be most grateful." Count Felix de Muelenaere, Minister of Foreign Affairs was already prowling his way round the edge of the room, bound for my position. "I will accompany you, so as to not make you late for your time with Her Majesty." I couldn't well say 'no' to him, so I didn't.
"Sire, I simply must ask where you intend to focus our diplomatic interests. We can establish new contacts this way, and perhaps make overtures in that way in the future. You've already wisely stated that we should focus efforts on Iberia, but thanks to some optimization work, we can add another region to our efforts." Perhaps it was homesickness or maybe it was folly, but the answer came to my mind immediately.
"America." I scrambled to explain. "The nation is not much older than ours and bears little baggage of intervention on the continent. Perhaps they could be a useful partner in the future. I even intend to go back there someday."
"Back, sire?" Damnation. I had let thoughts of Philidelphia fill my head and made my first true blunder.
"Sorry, I didn't mean that. Still, to go across the great ocean..." I was floundering now.
"Very well, sire. I shall prepare an envoy. Shall I assume you prefer contacts in the North to the detestable slavers of the South?" I did, in fact, prefer that. I had no love for slavery, but having been raised in a land where it was still ongoing, it felt like a fact of life. It was only standing there, walking alongside that servant with a genius haberdasher and the impatient Count, I realized just how evil it was, and could see a future without it. I was rattled for a moment but recovered in time to agree that indeed, Belgium was officially interested in New England.
As I departed from de Muelenaere with my cover story and nation barely intact for now, I couldn't stop from marveling at one simple fact.
Back there in the council meeting, for just a moment as we discussed policy, I truly felt like the King.
Back there in the council meeting, for just a moment as we discussed policy, I truly felt like the King.
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He's doing surprisingly well, bar a misspoken sentence there at the end.
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The prologue and this latest chapter were all excellent! Let's hope the new king can learn on the job.
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Taylor handled his first council meeting with aplomb, save for one, little, misstep. Still, I think he will settle in quite well.
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How do we know that Taylor is not a great improvement on King Leopold? Thanks
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Maybe his personal sensibilities will lend better to kingship than one might expect?
Just a little thing. Surely it won't become a bigger issue. Surely.
Perhaps he will be, though you may be thinking of Leopold II, who has only made a cameo as an infant so far but grew to commit infamous atrocities in the Congo region. By most accounts, Leopold I was a decent fellow.
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Now this is an interesting blend as we can start to see your game-play and how it will inform this AAR. Nicely handled.
Also, I very much liked the map. As I don't have Victoria, guessing that is a map that you acquired and then added the graphics? Very clear and helped this reader.
Looking forward to what the queen has to say about this meeting.
Thanks for this information in the caption. I always appreciate seeing these sources. How do you like Photopea?
Also, I very much liked the map. As I don't have Victoria, guessing that is a map that you acquired and then added the graphics? Very clear and helped this reader.
Looking forward to what the queen has to say about this meeting.
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Or in the immortal words of Captain Kirk from The Voyage Home, "One little mistake..."
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Someone has to keep traditions alive.
I can only echo the comments from earlier, a solid start from Taylor. Of course the real question is, what are the "Cultural Traits" of the Flemish and Walloons? A love of waffles obviously, but what else?
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That meeting went well. Let's hope that the slipups are either forgotten or ignored...
How will America respond to Belgium's new policy towards them?
How will America respond to Belgium's new policy towards them?
You'd be surprised. We have entire AARs written in verse, although I don't think anyone (besides you) has written a sonnet.
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@MidKnightDreary my apologies for commenting before I've read the whole thing. I'll come back to it. So far I've read update 2 (which, yes, I understand is a strange first post to read). I'll comment in more detail once I've read the rest.
But I wanted to comment on a comment...
I also enjoyed this movie, and it's quite cute and certainly worth watching if you haven't. I used to own a copy on VHS, which I know to the younger of you must be like admitting to have once owned an 8-track or a cassette tape. And yes I used to watch Star Trek on a black and white TV.
There's also King Ralph, where a hapless American (John Goodman) becomes the British King through a fluke of bad luck. King Ralph isn't as good a movie as Dave, but still worth watching, if only to witness that they cast John Goodman and Peter O'Toole in the same movie!
Rensslaer
But I wanted to comment on a comment...
I also enjoyed this movie, and it's quite cute and certainly worth watching if you haven't. I used to own a copy on VHS, which I know to the younger of you must be like admitting to have once owned an 8-track or a cassette tape. And yes I used to watch Star Trek on a black and white TV.
There's also King Ralph, where a hapless American (John Goodman) becomes the British King through a fluke of bad luck. King Ralph isn't as good a movie as Dave, but still worth watching, if only to witness that they cast John Goodman and Peter O'Toole in the same movie!
Rensslaer
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