Chapter 165: The Crown's Jewels (9) Damn it. I really did not want to come here, yet they dragged me here anyway.
"Welcome, Controller-General Guillaume. Prime Minister Pitt is waiting for you."
"Is that so…"
"Please go inside. Men! Open the front gate!"
"Yes, sir!"
I had seen it many times before, but today the guards opening the door felt like grim reapers.
Their uniforms were bright red, too. A very ominous sign.
Walking forward like a man about to drink poison, I pushed open the door of 10 Downing Street, the residence of the Prime Minister—the heart of Britain—and stepped inside.
"Controller-General Guillaume de Toulon, please give us your coat. We will store it for you."
"Yes…"
"I will now escort you to the reception room."
After following the servant down the hallway for a short while, I arrived at a room whose walls were covered with maps and whose tables were stacked high with documents.
"Prime Minister, your guest has arrived. I will bring the tea shortly."
"Ah, thank you."
Once the servant who had guided me left, the man inside the room—who looked to be around thirty—stood up and extended his hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, Controller-General Guillaume de Toulon. I believe this is the first time we have spoken face to face since the welcoming ceremony."
"Haha… I have been rather busy."
"Hm. If you say so, I suppose that must be the case. Haha."
Um… sir? Could you loosen your grip on my hand a little? Why do your words and your actions not match?
"Well then. We have much to discuss, so shall we sit down, Controller-General?"
"…Yes, of course."
I rubbed my tingling right hand with my left and sat down across from Pitt.
"Since you have come to see me, it seems our friend Member Wellesley has accomplished his task well."
"You are not even trying to hide it."
"There is much to discuss today, and I suspect you have already guessed most of it. There is no need to hide things and leave a bitter aftertaste. Wouldn't you agree?"
His speech and demeanor were bold and unrestrained. It was the kind of presence one would expect from a man who seized the office of Prime Minister at twenty-four and had held it for over a decade.
While I was thinking that, the servant knocked on the reception room door and spoke from outside.
"The tea is ready, Prime Minister."
"Controller-General Guillaume, how about we refresh our throats with some tea while we talk?"
"That sounds fine."
"Very well. You may come in."
At Pitt's signal, the servant entered with a tray carrying tea and desserts.
Once the teacups were set and the desserts placed before Pitt and me, the servant hurried out of the room as though fleeing.
"Please, help yourself."
"Yes. Thank you—ugh! What is this?"
"Oh dear. It seems the servant accidentally burned the tea leaves. How unfortunate. Once you leave, Controller-General, I will find the servant responsible and punish him properly. Please forgive the mistake."
"…."
Now I understood why the servant ran away.
An Englishman who drinks tea every day burning the tea leaves? That had to be a joke. It was obvious Pitt had them burn it deliberately just to mess with me.
The man looked gentle on the outside, but he had quite the vindictive streak.
How should I put it… rather like Napoleon sulking because someone refused to read the novel he had written.
"Isn't this a bit excessive just because I did not respond to your letter?"
"Excessive? Not at all. It was simply an accident. Haha."
I had just praised him for being straightforward earlier. I should take that back. What a petty man.
It would be best to say only what needed to be said and leave. There was no point discussing grand affairs with someone this small-minded.
"…Very well. Let's skip the trivialities. Prime Minister Pitt, there must be a reason you went to such effort to arrange this meeting. Please tell me."
"Straight to the point. I like that."
"I have never had the patience for beating around the bush. There is a reason I have overthrown two kings."
"Cough! Cough! Ahem!"
At my remark, Pitt suddenly began coughing into his sleeve.
Serves you right, you petty man.
Once his coughing subsided, I spoke again.
"You landed a blow on me, and I landed one on you. Now that we have both had our fair share, let's speak frankly. What do you want me to do for you, Prime Minister?"
"Ahem. It's simple. I would like you to win over our friends in the Admiralty here in London."
The Admiralty? He wanted me to persuade a group of men whose minds were filled with nothing but ships of the line? And I was not even British.
"May I say one somewhat impolite thing, Prime Minister?"
"A man who can casually claim he has overthrown two kings in front of someone who serves one… saying he will be impolite is a little frightening. But go ahead."
You gave permission yourself. No taking it back later.
After a brief pause, I looked Pitt in the eyes.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"…That was not nearly as severe as I expected."
"You are not denying that you might be insane."
"Haha. If I were sane, do you think I could have held the office of Prime Minister for ten years while also serving as Chancellor of the Exchequer?"
No. That was madness.
Thinking about it, while I had become a free elf, Pitt seemed more like Prometheus suffering punishment for stealing fire. I almost felt sorry for him.
But feeling sorry for someone and becoming the one pitied were two very different things.
"Wouldn't it be better to ask someone British, like Sir Wellesley or the Earl of Sandwich, rather than a foreigner like me?"
"That might seem logical. But I see things differently."
Pitt shrugged.
"Suppose those men approach the Admiralty officers you mentioned. The next day shoes will be flying across Parliament."
Shoes flying across Parliament… that sounded oddly familiar.
"The Tory Party and the Whig Party have long planted watchers beside each other's key figures. If well-known members of the Tory Party meet Admiralty officers, the Whigs will certainly notice.
Then they will shout across Parliament, accusing us of violating civilian control of the military, of turning officers into political tools—making a spectacle of it."
"So you need a foreigner like me, someone who cannot intervene in British domestic politics?"
"Exactly."
Pitt nodded.
"A high-ranking figure who can meet key people in the Admiralty, yet has no connection to domestic politics. That fits you perfectly, Controller-General Guillaume de Toulon."
Hmm. When he put it that way, it made sense. Hard to argue.
"Then what exactly do you want those Admiralty friends to do?"
"When corruption within the East India Company begins exploding into the open, they only need to remain neutral. It would be even better if they joined our side."
"Hm."
I leaned back into the chair and let out a short groan.
Not easy.
If they were army officers, I could at least rely on shared experience and alcohol to build some "brotherhood." But sailors? That was like asking a lobster to take the side of a cat rather than a crab.
Still, the harder the task, the better the reward should be.
First I needed to know how much money Pitt had prepared for me before deciding anything.
"Prime Minister Pitt. What do I get in return?"
"Very businesslike. Your calculation of profit and loss is thorough."
"An occupational habit. So, are you going to show me your hand?"
Pitt shrugged again.
"For the next ten years, we will exempt your company—Ears of the Nation—from special tariffs."
"Oh."
That was a powerful offer.
Ever since Oliver Cromwell executed a king long ago, Britain had made it extremely difficult for foreign companies to enter its domestic market.
Actually, "difficult" was an understatement. In reality, they made it nearly impossible.
For example, Dutch shipyards—once the finest shipbuilders in the world—were crushed by the notorious Navigation Acts, which required ships entering British territories to be British-built.
And there were many other laws, such as special tariffs on imported grain, all clearly designed to protect domestic companies.
Yet Pitt was offering to exempt my company from those rules.
It was undeniably tempting.
However, one thing needed to be clarified. Would Pitt legalize this arrangement, or simply turn a blind eye to illegal maneuvering?
That was the real question.
"Officially? Or unofficially?"
"Well, we cannot rewrite the law for a single company. But if a few Treasury officials are exhausted from overwork and happen to overlook certain details… would that not be understandable?"
So he was saying: bend the rules a little, and the government would look the other way.
Full legality would be ideal, but even this was a good deal.
But still—
If that was all I wanted, I would not have bothered coming to the Prime Minister's residence in the first place.
Keeping a completely shameless expression, I spoke again.
"Guarantee me a few more things."
"Guarantee? What do you mean?"
"May Ears of the Nation sell a few products to people in the Admiralty?"
"…Are you saying you want to supply the Royal Navy?"
"Not exactly military procurement. Think of it as a 'special permit' allowing us to sell certain goods to naval officers and sailors."
Pitt frowned.
"…Are you serious?"
"If I were sane, I could never have survived Versailles three years ago."
Pitt stroked his chin thoughtfully before speaking again.
"The sales you mentioned… are they military supplies?"
"No. I would have to be insane to sell something like that. If discovered, I would be ruined in both Britain and France."
In Britain they would accuse me of buying foreign weapons. In France they would call me a traitor selling war supplies to the enemy.
Why would I do something so stupid?
"Hm. Then what do you want to sell?"
"Clothing, small goods—everyday items people use."
"But those can already be sold anywhere."
Pitt looked puzzled.
"So will you allow it?"
"…If they are merely household goods, then yes. Very well."
"You will not go back on your word?"
It worked. It worked!
Unable to contain my excitement, I clenched both fists.
Portsmouth Naval Dockyard, Britain.
"What's with the construction all of a sudden?"
"You didn't hear? Something called a PX (Port Exchange) is being built."
"What the hell is that?"
"Who knows."
The two sailors stared at the wooden building rising inside the naval base.
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