Europa Universalis 1867: Start by inheriting an armory

"Britain is willing to support His Highness Alfonso's restoration."

Louise said this, standing ramrod straight, a diplomatic stance she had practiced for years: stand even straighter when facing someone unwilling to listen to the truth.

Isabella's once bright eyes were now filled with only gloom: "Did your mother send you?"

"My mother sent me to tell you," Louise said, clutching her pen, "that the doors of England are always open to you."

The Queen gave a cold laugh, and her male favorites wisely retreated to the door, while the maids also lowered their heads and slipped out.

"Open." The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Your mother's ambassador is in Madrid negotiating trade agreements with the new government, her fleet is anchored in Cardiff, and now her daughter is telling me that Britain's doors are open to me?"

She stood up, using the handrail for support, and walked to the window. In the shooting range, Richard was still standing there, looking down at the letter in his hand. Several guards were cleaning up the scattered porcelain shards and the dead pigeon.

"Do you know what the French Emperor said?" the Queen leaned against the window. "He said I could live here forever, and Alfonso could study at his school. He called me 'Your Majesty,' and even provided me with servants and a carriage..."

Louise stepped forward: "Napoleon III only wanted the Spanish crown to remain in France so that the Prussians wouldn't get it."

Her gaze fell on the Queen's hands, and she noticed that the Queen was trembling.

Louise astutely realized that the Queen was unwilling to return home because she believed she had already lost everything.

"Your Highness, England has not yet recognized the new government." Louise said with some confidence. "My mother sent me not because she doesn't care about you, but because she's waiting."

"Wait? Wait for whom?" The Queen turned her head abruptly.

"Wait for the right successor," Louise earnestly advised. "Britain will not support a queen who will never return, but Britain will support a king with a future."

"You mean, my son?"

Louise nodded: "Your Highness, if you abdicate and Alfonso succeeds you, you will be the Queen Mother. The royalists in Spain will listen to you, and you will still be the most powerful person in all of Spain."

The Queen clutched her collar, her chest heaving: "Do you know what you're saying?"

“I know,” Louise said without fear. “I’m saying that a queen mother’s power is far greater than that of an exiled queen.”

Isabella did not respond; she collapsed onto the sofa as if she had fainted, holding her forehead with her hand.

"You are just like your mother," the Queen said weakly, "speaking the same way, making the throne sound like a business deal."

She picked up her teacup, took a sip, and looked at Louise with a complicated expression: "You saw Louisa on the ship, do you know why we haven't seen each other for years?"

Louise shook her head.

"In 1866, Luisa and her husband came to Madrid, just like they are now, sitting in my drawing room." She stretched out her hand and drew a circle on the mantelpiece. "She made the same suggestion as you."

Her fingers stopped at the edge of the marble.

"I know she's right," the Queen sighed, "but I can't."

Why?

"Because I am the queen." Isabella's eyes widened. "I ascended the throne at the age of three and have worn the crown for thirty years. I don't know how I would live without it..."

Her eyes were red, but not a single tear fell.

"You're right, the Queen Mother has more power than the exiled Queen, but the Queen Mother is not the Queen." Isabella put down her teacup. "Everyone knows that the power doesn't belong to her, it belongs to her son."

"I understand." Louise bit her lip. "It's a problem with the name."

Isabella paused for a moment, then smiled wearily.

Louise fell silent. She thought of her mother and Queen Victoria sitting on her throne reviewing documents.

If one day, even Mother loses her crown...

She dared not think any further.

But Louise could even imagine Isabella waking up from a dream where soldiers rode through the city gates, shouting, "Long live the Queen!"

She was trapped by the crown on her head, and Louise couldn't think of a way to save her.

So she put away her sketchbook and curtsied to Isabella, saying, "Excuse me."

The Queen nodded: "Give my regards to Queen Victoria."

As Louise stepped out of the drawing room, she felt dizzy and her steps faltered.

Did her mission fail? No, her mother had sent her to spy on the Queen's attitude toward the restoration. It seemed that in order to maintain trade, Britain had no choice but to recognize the new government.

Just as Louise was lost in thought, she bumped into Richard's concerned face.

"It worked?" Richard regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. Her face was pale and she had a forced smile on her lips.

"No, what about you?"

"Not so good, but," Richard waved the letter in his hand, "he told me to go to Paris to see Chassepot. He said if he approves, France will buy it."

Louise took the letter, glanced at it, and handed it back to him: "Then what are you waiting for?"

"What...what did the Queen say?" Richard asked cautiously.

Louise touched the sketchbook on her chest: "She said she couldn't live without the crown."

"I'm sorry, you did your best," Richard said softly, trying to comfort her.

Louise chuckled. "Why do you make it sound like I failed?"

"what?"

"I came to Paris to study, remember?" Louise walked out of the hall with her sketchbook in her arms, but raindrops pelted her shoes.

"Do you need any help?" Richard walked over to her and opened a black umbrella.

"Huh? Where did you get an umbrella?" Louise asked, somewhat surprised. "You didn't bring one with you."

"I borrowed it; he owes me money for bullets anyway." Richard produced a beautiful porcelain plate from somewhere. "It's for you."

"You stole something from the French emperor's villa? Really?" Louise took the plate, but couldn't hide her smile.

"I once heard a saying that goes, if a place brings you bad memories..." Richard grinned mischievously, "steal something before you leave."

"He sounds like a very intelligent person." Louise suppressed a laugh and stuffed the plate into her bosom.

“Well, he’s actually my foreman,” Richard frowned. “Now I’m a little worried that he might steal things from the factory.”

"Eh...is this our umbrella?" The villa's butler walked out from behind the two of them.

"Uh, goodbye!" Richard grabbed Louise's hand and ran quickly toward the door.

The butler chased after them, panting and shouting, "Do you know that there's a special place in hell for umbrella thieves?!"

"Sorry! We're rushing there at full speed!" They laughed as they ran, disappearing into the distance.