Europa Universalis 1867: Start by inheriting an armory

Eleanor stood in the center of the salon, holding a champagne glass, his posture as relaxed as a cat that had had enough of the sun.

Across from her, several well-dressed officials were also holding wine glasses, chatting about the endless debates in parliament.

An overweight foreign ministry official swung his champagne glass, the nasolabial folds on either side of his nose deeply etched into his skin.

"Our beloved Prime Minister Gladstone has been busy with his Church Bill lately," he said with a sarcastic sneer. "Does he really think that taking away the scepters of the Irish bishops will teach those mobs to be grateful?"

Eleanor chuckled softly. "I didn't see any familiar faces at the banquet. Perhaps they're at the club, engrossed in drafting their impeachment speeches for the Prime Minister."

Upon hearing this, the Conservative Party officials accompanying him chuckled softly.

An officer from the Navy Department walked over with a wine glass in his hand. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his bow tie was askew, indicating that he had clearly had a couple of drinks.

His steps were still fairly steady, but his tongue was already a little tied:

"I heard that the canal in France, which has been under construction for ten years, is finally about to be completed, and even the Queen will be attending the opening ceremony... Ten years ago, we laughed at their worthless ditch, but now it's like adding a valve between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. Our fleet still has to take a long detour to get to Mumbai."

After he finished speaking, he let out a deep sigh.

Eleanor didn't respond; her attention was entirely focused on the window on the other side of the salon.

Millie was surrounded by several well-dressed young men. She was listening to a young man in a dark blue coat speak, nodding occasionally and saying a word or two. His composure made Millie feel like she was looking in a mirror.

Eleanor's gaze lingered for a few more seconds, then revealed the pride of a mother eagle finally seeing her eaglet spread its wings.

"Mrs. Eleanor?" The voice of the Foreign Ministry official brought her back to reality.

Eleanor snapped out of her reverie and replied with a hint of apology, "I do admire the French romanticism, but in my opinion, this nouveau riche behavior of France will eventually drain the national treasury. When that happens, it will be a natural progression for British ships to appear in French shipping lanes."

After saying this, she raised her glass to the Navy official.

This explanation clearly pleased the official greatly. His eyes lit up, and he reached for the wine on the table. He ran his fingers across the table a few times, only to find that the glasses were already empty.

Seeing this, Eleanor quickly said, "You see, it's all my fault. My steward told me yesterday that there were several barrels of red wine that had just been transported from Bordeaux. If those rude servants ruined it, that would be the biggest disaster tonight."

She placed the untouched glass of champagne on the waiter's tray, turned to the officials and bowed slightly: "Gentlemen, I'll go upstairs and instruct the steward to open two bottles for you. I hope you enjoy your conversation."

The officials nodded to her.

So Eleanor headed for the stairs and eventually disappeared around the corner.

She hurried upstairs to her private room, where the housekeeper was tidying up. Hearing footsteps, she turned around.

Eleanor gave him a few instructions about the wine, and the steward nodded and left.

She took a silk shawl from the clothes rack, draped it over her shoulders, and pushed open the balcony door to go outside.

The night wind in Mayfair carried the distinctive smell of sulfur and coal smoke of London. She leaned against the wrought iron railing, took out a thin cigarette from her purse, and put it on an ivory mouthpiece.

This way, the smoke wouldn't land on her expensive dress and hair.

Eleanor struck a match with a hiss and lit his cigarette.

She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, the smoke drifting with the evening breeze towards the starry sky, her mind wandering to other things.

Richard's cannon.

This was a disastrous mistake. The son of a factory owner with ordinary education had invented munitions that doubled the fighting power of the British Army and Navy in just two years, which was truly beyond her imagination.

She used London's high society as a hunting ground for intelligence, but she never expected that it would also become the focus of attention for both sides.

One was Richard's informant, who could certainly guess she was here, but she didn't believe that someone like Richard would let someone kill her.

A person like him would never think of killing unless absolutely necessary.

On the other side were Prussian spies. Although they were all informants planted in London, the one sitting at the top had to bear the weight of the crown.

Countless eyes were fixed on her; if she showed even the slightest hesitation toward Richard, she would immediately be labeled a traitor by that group.

This is why she had to give the order to assassinate Richard and destroy the laboratory.

Deep down, she secretly hoped that Richard would pull through.

Someone as smart as him can always get through it.

She hoped so.

Eleanor took one drag after another until the cigarette burned down to the filter.

She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing, preparing to return to the scene of conflict downstairs.

A crisp metallic clang came from behind him; Eleanor recognized it as the sound of a pistol's hammer being pulled back.

"That thing will slowly kill you," Richard's voice came from behind.

Eleanor paused for a moment, then smiled with relief.

"Don't worry, I have plenty of patience." She took another cigarette from her bag, lit it, and asked, "How did you get in here?"

“If you’re wearing overalls and carrying a toolbox and a ladder, everyone will assume you’re supposed to be there,” Richard replied.

Eleanor scoffed; she clearly didn't believe Richard's nonsense.

"Bullshit. You smell like cellar mud and a big oak barrel, or have you finally gotten moldy from staying home all the time?"

Richard sniffed. "You have no idea how cold it is in the cellar."

Eleanor shook his head, put the cigarette holder back in his mouth, and took another drag. "So, what's this now? You're finally going to settle our score?"

Richard paused for a second before speaking, "It's all over. I already know Thomas was a spy. He was infiltrated back when he was studying in Prussia, which is why he had such a good record in England all these years."

Eleanor frowned slightly, turned her head, and asked, "How did you find out?"

"I didn't notice; he told me himself."

Eleanor didn't understand.

"He's smart, but not cut out to be a killer," Richard explained. "He knew I'd soon find out about the accidental killing of Andrew, so he frantically framed my foreman to buy time to send the documents out. But I'd already marked those documents."

"Marked? What does that mean?"

"The canary trap," he said. "When I hand three documents to three different people, I claim they are the same. But in reality, there are tiny discrepancies in the data in each document, and through these numerical differences, I can pinpoint the person who leaked the information."

He loosened his wrists and continued, "It's like hanging different bells on a canary so you can tell which one is singing."

Eleanor closed her eyes, remained silent for a few seconds, and then lowered her head.

"I never thought I'd be able to learn something from you," she said.

Suddenly, she realized something. How did he determine which document had been leaked? Unless…

She took a drag of her cigarette, and white smoke billowed from her nose.

Millie, it can only be her.

The girl who took care of his letters every day was actually infiltrated by someone else, and a complex emotion welled up in Elinor's heart.

She was saddened by Millie's betrayal, yet she felt a sliver of relief knowing that Millie had done it without her noticing.

"You're not the only one who knows how to recruit spies," Richard said.

"Yes...maybe she really is a good candidate for espionage."