1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 327 The Prince's Wooden Horse

Chapter 327 The Prince's Wooden Horse

I have to gamble.

Constantine's voice fell in the quiet study, carrying an unwavering resolve. Sophia looked at him; his blue eyes held none of the gambler's fervor, only the calm composure born of careful planning for the future. The hands holding hers were firm and warm, radiating a reassuring strength. She said nothing more, simply resting her head gently on her husband's shoulder.

That evening, the Royal Palace of Athens was brightly lit, and a grand celebratory banquet was underway. Under the crystal chandeliers, elegantly dressed figures mingled, glasses clinked, and Greek dignitaries, generals, and ambassadors from various countries gathered in Athens. The hall was filled with laughter and warmth, and Constantine was undoubtedly the sole focus of attention. He had changed out of his military uniform and was now wearing a well-tailored black tuxedo, a glass of champagne in his hand, moving effortlessly through the crowd.

"Your Highness, you are a hero of Greece!" A white-haired army general raised his glass excitedly, his voice trembling with emotion. "The mountains of Epirus will remember your deeds!"

"Your Highness, your diplomatic skills are enough to put Bismarck to shame!" The new finance minister was beaming. He knew that the Treaty of London meant that Greece's international credit would be enhanced like never before.

The French ambassador approached with an elegant smile: "Your Highness, the clause regarding freedom of navigation is truly a stroke of genius. You have not only won land for Greece, but also brought a new order to the Mediterranean."

Constantine smiled and clinked glasses with each of them, speaking humbly yet displaying the composure of a victor.

His gaze would occasionally sweep across the crowd, landing on the figure at the head of the long table.

Sofia was radiant tonight. She wore a royal blue velvet gown, the hem adorned with tiny diamonds, as if she were wearing the night sky of the Aegean Sea. She wore a delicate sapphire necklace—a gift from Constantine brought back from London—which complemented her eyes. She sat there quietly, responding to the compliments of the ladies of the court and wives of diplomats, her every gesture exuding the grace and poise of a future queen.

Whenever Constantine's gaze fell upon her, she would immediately notice and return a gentle smile that only the two of them could understand. That unspoken understanding surpassed all the boisterous praise in the hall.

The banquet concluded at midnight. After seeing off the guests, Constantine did not immediately return to his bedroom to rest. He removed his restrictive tuxedo, leaving only a white shirt, and went to the games room on the second floor of the palace.

The two young sons were still awake, playing with building blocks on the carpet with their nanny. When they saw their father come in, little George and little Alexander rushed over excitedly, making muffled calls of "Daddy."

Constantine scooped up the two little ones, one in each arm, and rubbed his stubble against their rosy cheeks, making them giggle. He sat down with his sons on the carpet, not playing childish building block games, but telling them a new story.

"A long, long time ago, there was a city called Troy—" His voice was low and magnetic, "Outside the city lived a group of very powerful soldiers who fought a long and arduous war but could not win. Then, one of their clever princes came up with a plan."

Constantine picked up a square block and stacked several more on top of it, forming a strange shape.

"He built a huge wooden horse, taller than the palace. Then he pretended to leave with his army. The Trojans saw the horse, thinking it was a gift from the enemy, and dragged it into the city to celebrate their victory."

"That night, the Trojan Horse's belly opened," Constantine said in a low voice, creating an atmosphere of mystery. "But what came out of it were not soldiers wielding swords."

He paused for a moment, looking into his two sons' curious, bright blue eyes.

"Out of there emerged the wise prince. In his hand, he carried no weapon, but a treaty filled with words, a treaty that could bring peace."

The story was over, and the two little ones seemed to understand but not quite. Constantine smiled, ruffled their blond hair, handed them over to the nanny, and coaxed them to sleep.

When he finished and returned to the bedroom, Sophia had already finished bathing. She had changed into a moon-white silk nightgown and was standing on the balcony outside the bedroom, gazing at the night view of Athens.

Constantine walked up behind her and gently embraced her. A cool evening breeze ruffled Sophia's soft, golden hair, strands brushing against Constantine's cheek, carrying a faint scent of roses. Below the balcony lay the tranquil palace gardens, and further away, the myriad lights of Athens stretched out like stars, echoing the Milky Way in the sky. The outline of the Parthenon was faintly visible in the moonlight, solemn and sacred.

My heart is filled with tenderness and peace. This feeling is deeper and more serene than the ecstasy of signing the treaty or the glory of being cheered by the masses. What in this world could be happier than embracing my beloved under the moon after winning this hard-fought battle?

He gently rested his chin on Sophia's shoulder, feeling the soft warmth of her body in his arms. He didn't say anything sweet, but instead pulled a neatly folded sheet of paper from the large pocket of his robe.

He unfolded the drawings in front of Sophia. In the moonlight, the pencil lines on the paper were clearly visible. They were cross-sectional views of some strange mechanical parts, and next to them was an ugly sketch of a machine consisting of four wheels and an iron box.

"Sophia," his voice rang out in the quiet night, clear and firm, "the war won back our land, but the future of Greece depends on this."

Sofia's gaze fell on the blueprints. She saw some unfamiliar German words—internal combustion engine, piston,

Gear drive, differential, and most strikingly, the headline: A car without horses.

She couldn't understand these strange lines and symbols. But she could feel the warmth of her husband's chest behind her, hear his steady and powerful heartbeat, and sense the determination in his words that was enough to change the world.

She didn't ask what it was or what it was for. She simply rested her head gently and completely trustingly against Constantine's chest.

"I don't understand, Connie." Her voice was as gentle as moonlight, "but I believe in you, I will always believe in you."

Constantine's heart was filled with warmth. He tightened his arms and lowered his head to kiss her cheek in the moonlight.