1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 172 The Crown Prince and Bread

The deathly silence in the parliament hall did not last long. Constantine's departing figure, like a match, ignited the oppressive atmosphere.

He ignored the uproar and debate among the lawmakers behind him.

Upon returning to the palace, Constantine did not rest for a moment and went straight to his study.

"Alexandros".

"Your Highness."

"In my name, sign the Royal Emergency Mobilization Order." Constantine's voice was calm and decisive. "Use the Royal Reserves and order the Antonio Petaras National Development Bank to immediately procure grain from Italy, France, and Egypt, regardless of cost. The more the better, the faster the better!"

While parliament was still debating whether to send troops, the Crown Prince had already used his power to pull the trigger.

"At the same time," Constantine turned his gaze to the other side, "inform Stavross to select the most loyal and reliable members from the 'Hellenic Workers' Welfare Association' to form a 'Royal Disaster Relief Team' in conjunction with Captain Metaxas's Royal Guard."

He paused, then added, "Tell them this isn't about going to war, but it's more important than war. They are responsible for personally delivering every grain of food to the disaster victims."

Alexandros accepted the order and left.

The study door was pushed open again.

Crown Princess Sofia entered, still looking somewhat tired after a tea party with the German ambassador's wife.

"I heard about what happened in Parliament." Her voice was filled with worry.

Constantine walked up to her and took her hand.

"Sophia, I need your strength." He gazed into his wife's eyes, "not as the Crown Princess, but as Princess Sophia of Prussia, the granddaughter of Queen Victoria."

Sofia immediately understood her husband's intention.

That afternoon, letters handwritten by Sofia herself were sent from the Royal Palace in Athens to the courts of various European royal families. She did not exaggerate the extent of the disaster; instead, she used the simplest and most sincere language to describe the facts of hunger and death she had witnessed in her reports.

In her personal capacity, she appealed to charitable organizations and noblewomen across Europe, urging them to extend a helping hand to the mothers and children in Greece who were struggling with hunger.

Her identity, her sincerity, and the shocking details in her letter quickly shattered the seemingly cold facade of European high society. The first precious international aid payment, wired, arrived in Athens even before the first shipment of grain.

Three days later, at the port of Piraeus, Athens.

A peculiar team has been assembled.

At the head of the procession stood Captain Metaxas and his men, dressed in royal guard uniforms and armed to the teeth. Their faces were stern, their ranks impeccable, representing the majesty of the monarchy.

In the middle of the group were members of the "Workers' Welfare Association," led by Stavros. Most of them were veterans, dockworkers, and factory technicians, still wearing work clothes, but their eyes were equally resolute. They were responsible for moving and distributing supplies.

Behind the procession was a group of distinguished guests, dressed in fine clothes and carrying various strange "iron boxes." They were several renowned journalists and photographers from European newspapers, whom Constantine had secretly invited at great expense. These men were known for their courage in revealing the truth, and one of them had even just returned from the battlefields of Africa.

Constantine personally saw them off.

He gave Metaxas only one order: "Anyone who obstructs the relief team, whoever they are, is to be killed on sight!"

The convoy, in a grand procession, headed towards Sethasari.

At the first mountain pass leading into the Thessalian plain, the trouble they had anticipated arrived.

Hundreds of privately armed men, hired by the landowners and armed with shotguns and machetes, blocked the narrow road. Leading them was the butler of the De La Garcees family, the man with the triangular eyes.

"Halt, chariots ahead!" he shouted arrogantly from his horse. "This is Lord Dragases' territory! We Thessaly can handle our own affairs; we need no outside interference!"

The convoy stopped.

Metaxas jumped down from the first carriage. Without a word, he slowly walked up to the butler.

He didn't argue, but simply took out a document from his pocket and unfolded it.

The document bears the bright red seal of King George I.

"By order of the King, the Royal Relief Team is to proceed to Thessaly to aid the victims." Metaxas's voice was not loud, but it carried a metallic quality. "Anyone who obstructs this will be punished for treason."

The butler's expression changed.

Metaxas ignored him, simply raising his right hand and gently waving it backward.

"Click—"

Behind him, the royal guards, in perfect unison, pulled back the bolts of their rifles. The dark muzzles of their guns were pointed at the sky.

The synchronized clanging of metal was like a heavy hammer blow, striking the hearts of all the private militias.

They could deal with unarmed peasants, but their ragtag army was no match for the royal regulars who represented the state's violent machinery.

The triangular-eyed butler's facial muscles twitched. Finally, he gritted his teeth, waved his hand reluctantly, and made way for him.

The wheels of the disaster relief team rolled forward, crushing the dignity of the landlord class.

When the first horse-drawn cart, loaded with flour and corn, entered Amori village, the hardest-hit area, the villagers could hardly believe their eyes.

They were so hungry they were numb and had lost all hope.

The convoy stopped, and the soldiers began unloading the food. Stavros, along with his guild brothers, set up huge iron pots and began to cook steaming, thick soup.

The aroma of food, like an invisible hand, pulled the villagers, who were hiding in their dilapidated houses waiting to die, out of the darkness one by one.

They gathered at the village entrance, their eyes filled with longing, doubt, and fear.

Just then, a royal carriage, decorated in its most ornate style, slowly drove into the village.

The car door opened.

Constantine, the Crown Prince of Greece, stepped down from his carriage. Following closely behind was his wife, Crown Princess Sofia.

Upon seeing the arrival of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess, the villagers were first stunned, and then an incredulous exclamation erupted from the crowd.

Everyone knelt down.

The entire village was deathly silent, save for the sound of the wind and the distant bubbling of soup.

Constantine did not give any speech. He took off his magnificent coat embroidered with gold thread and casually handed it to Alexandros behind him.

He walked up to a little girl who was huddled in a corner, covered in dirt, with empty eyes.

He received a freshly baked, still-warm loaf of bread from a relief worker.

He knelt down and personally handed the bread to the little girl.

The little girl stared blankly at him, then at the bread in her hand, and finally couldn't hold back any longer. She opened her mouth and burst into tears.

Sofia also knelt down. She took out her clean white handkerchief embroidered with the Prussian royal coat of arms from her pocket and gently, bit by bit, wiped the dirt off the girl's face.

Then, she took a bowl of hot soup from the relief team member, scooped it up with a small spoon, carefully blew on it to cool it down, and fed it to the girl.

"Click."

Not far away, a photographer from the French magazine "Picturesque" pressed the shutter of his latest Zeiss camera.

The mercury lamp emitted a brief but dazzling white light.

An eternal moment has been frozen in time.

This photograph will become one of the most famous and moving images in Greek history. Its name is "The Crown Prince and Bread."