1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 289 The Queen's Determination

Chapter 289 The Queen's Determination

Sofia's decision stirred up a storm in the deathly silent conference hall.

"Your Highness, you mustn't!"

The Prime Minister was the first to recover from the shock. He jumped up from his seat, quickly walked around the table, and stood in front of Sofia.

"In rebellious territories, swords have no eyes! Your safety is the nation's top priority! If anything were to happen to you, how would we explain it to His Highness the Crown Prince in London!"

His voice was trembling with tears, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

An army general with gray hair and a chest full of medals also stood up. His voice was loud and clear, but full of disapproval.

"The battlefield is not a place for women! Your Highness, please reconsider!"

"This is playing with the future of the country!"

"Your Highness, please rescind your order!"

The wave of opposition surged forth like a tidal wave. The entire cabinet was gripped by panic. They couldn't imagine what terrible things might happen if they sent the esteemed Crown Princess deep into the midst of a group of armed rebels.

Sofia did not argue with them.

She simply watched them quietly, her clear blue eyes showing not a trace of wavering.

She gave a flawless curtsy to everyone, then turned around, her skirt tracing a resolute arc as she walked out of the conference room.

She went straight to King George I's study.

The study was filled with smoke. George I paced anxiously back and forth, the news from Epirus weighing heavily on his mind.

He stopped when he saw Sophia come in.

"Sophia, they all told me—you can't go!"

Sophia did not answer immediately. She went to the window and opened it for the king, letting fresh air dispel the stuffiness in the room.

Then, she turned around, her attitude much softer than in the meeting room, but her tone remained just as firm.

"Father," she called out.

"Connie is in London, fighting on a battlefield without gunfire for the future of Greece. We cannot let the fire in our backyard reach his front lines."

Her gaze met the king's worried eyes.

"If we send an army to suppress them now, the London newspapers will proclaim the next day: 'Savage Greeks are slaughtering their new nation.' This is tantamount to handing the Marquess of Salisbury the sharpest knife."

"He will use this knife to cut away everything we gained at the negotiating table with the blood of our soldiers. He will tell the world that Greece is a barbaric nation that doesn't know how to govern."

George I's lips moved; he wanted to refute, but he found that every word Sophia spoke hit the nail on the head.

"But your safety—" The king's voice was filled with struggle.

"My safety is my reason for going."

Sofia interrupted him, her voice carrying a powerful and convincing logical force.

"The fact that an unarmed crown princess can emerge unharmed from those supposedly rebellious territories is itself the most powerful propaganda. It will prove to all of Europe that our rule is benevolent and popular."

She stepped forward and looked directly at the king.

"On the contrary, if I, the Crown Princess of Greece, need an army division to protect my people, that would precisely demonstrate our failure. It would show that all of Connie's efforts in London were nothing but a joke."

A long silence fell over the study.

King George I looked at his daughter-in-law. This princess from Prussia, this young girl he had once thought was merely a bargaining chip in a political marriage, now radiated a light that filled him with awe.

That was not a woman's capriciousness, but the foresight and decisiveness of a true ruler.

Finally, the king sat back in his chair, exhausted, and waved his hand.

"Go, my daughter. Athens is in your hands."

Having obtained the king's authorization, Sofia wasted not a single second.

After seeing off all the ministers, Sophia emerged from her study and stood alone on the palace terrace, the evening breeze ruffling her long hair. Gazing at the starry sky, she thought of her mother, Princess Victoria of England, a woman equally full of wisdom and ideals. She also thought of her brother, Wilhelm II, with his perpetually confident, even arrogant, face. A voice within her said: "Sophia, this is not just for Connie, not just for Greece. This is also your test. You must prove to Berlin, to London, to the world that the Prussian princess is not merely a smiling vase at court banquets." At this moment, she was no longer just Constantine's wife; she was herself.

She immediately began assembling her "army".

She didn't ask the Ministry of Defense for a single soldier or a single gun.

She first summoned Antonio Petaras, the "royal merchant".

In a side hall of the palace, the newly emerging shipping tycoon stood respectfully before the Crown Princess.

"Your Highness, the Petalas family awaits your orders."

"Antonio," Sophia's command was succinct and clear, "I need food, plenty of food, cloth, and medicine. Fill your ships within three days. I want every poor man in Epirus to receive the royal flour and blankets."

"Yes, Your Highness!" Antonio didn't ask any questions. He knew that carrying out orders was the only way for him to gain glory.

After seeing Antonio off, Sophia's carriage headed towards a monastery on the outskirts of Athens.

This is where Father Callinicus, the "hammer of faith" who is as devout as an ascetic, is guiding the doctrine.

Sofia met the priest in a simple room containing only a cross and a holy icon.

He was still wearing that coarse black priest's robe, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's.

"Father, I need your help." Sophia didn't beat around the bush.

"I need a team of young priests who truly understand God's love, not just those who reject pagans. I need them to come with me to Epirus, not to build new churches, but to build bridges of communication. Not to convert them to our God, but to make them believe in our good intentions."

Father Callinicus looked silently at the Crown Princess before him.

He saw in this woman the same light as in His Highness Constantine. It was a light that transcended worldly power, a light aimed at establishing a higher and more stable order.

The lines on his face, which was as resolute as a rock, softened.

He lowered his head, bowed deeply, and placed his hands on his chest.

"Your Highness, your will is also the will of God."

A few days later, in the port of Piraeus.

An unusual group gathered at the dock.

There were no soldiers' resounding slogans, no gleaming guns.

There were only ships flying red crosses, with doctors and nurses in white uniforms standing on them; this was the newly formed "Queen's Medical Team".

There were cargo ships laden with flour, cloth and medicine, their hulls painted with huge Greek royal emblems.

There was also a group of young clergy members with clear eyes, dressed in black priestly robes. They stood quietly together, holding no swords, only Bibles.

Sofia wore a simple dark blue travel dress and a wide-brimmed hat to protect her from the wind and dust.

At the dock, King George I and all his cabinet ministers came to see her off. Their faces were filled with worry, confusion, and an undisguised admiration.

Sofia walked up to the king, lifted her skirt, and gave a standard curtsy.

"Please pray for me, Father."

Her voice was calm yet powerful.

"Please believe me too."

After saying that, she straightened up and didn't look at anyone else.

She turned and, with firm steps, walked up the gangway leading to the flagship.

The sea breeze lifted the hem of her skirt, making it flutter like a battle flag.

She stood at the bow of the ship, heading towards that stormy land, and resolutely set sail.