Reincarnated as the Crown Prince-Chapter 31: The Joining of Coalition

The late morning light filtered through the tall arched windows of the royal council chamber, casting soft reflections on the polished marble floor. Madrid, now fully wired and humming with the steady rhythm of electric current, glowed even in the day. Outside, the city moved with the confidence of a nation reborn—steam trams rattled along iron tracks, air chimneys from underground power generators released gentle puffs into the sky, and factory horns called workers into newly mechanized shifts.

But here, within the quiet dignity of the palace, Aragon’s foreign policy was about to be shaped.

Regent Lancelot sat at the head of the long oak table, dressed not in royal finery but in a simple navy coat lined with silver buttons—a subtle blend of nobility and utility. Beside him sat Alicia, notes in hand, eyes alert. Across the table stood Sir William Hargrove, the ambassador of Britannia.

A stout man with thinning blond hair and a deeply lined face, Sir William bowed respectfully as he was announced.

"Your Highness," he greeted with practiced warmth, "it is a true pleasure to stand before you again. I must say, every visit to Madrid in these past years has felt like stepping decades into the future."

Lancelot smiled politely, gesturing for the man to sit. "You’re too kind, Sir William. Though I imagine some of your peers believe we’ve moved too quickly."

"On the contrary," the ambassador said as he settled into his chair, "many in Westminster speak of Aragon as the miracle of the continent. The steel production alone—your refineries in Burgos and Zaragoza are outpacing even some of our domestic mills. Not to mention your locomotives... I saw one arrive just yesterday at the new central station. It glided in like thunder given form."

"Built in the Alcira Plant," Alicia added. "Six hundred horsepower, coal-fed steam turbine, iron-clad suspension."

"Impressive," Hargrove said with genuine awe. "We’ve begun experiments with electric trams in Londale, but you’ve done it at scale. Frankly, many of our lords are asking the same question."

"And what question is that?" Lancelot asked, voice calm but firm.

"How did you do it? In five short years? We’ve watched kingdoms try to reform themselves for decades and fail, yet here Aragon stands—electrified, industrialized, and stable. The King lives. The city glows. Even your slums are disappearing."

Lancelot leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced. "We started with focus. Then removed anything that tried to stop it."

Sir William let out a short chuckle. "Direct, as always. Still, I have been sent with a particular request—something I suspect your ministers may have warned you about."

"I don’t indulge in guesses. Speak plainly."

The ambassador hesitated for only a second before continuing. "We would like to purchase the designs of your steam locomotives and electric motor systems. Not just the engines—your switchboards, wiring protocols, even your blast furnace schematics. We’ll offer generous compensation, of course. Licensing rights. Technology exchanges. Perhaps even joint ventures."

Alicia’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

Lancelot, on the other hand, offered only a smile.

"I’m afraid that won’t be possible."

Sir William blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"We do not sell secrets," Lancelot said simply. "We sell steel. We sell locomotives. We sell dynamos and generators. The end-product—fully assembled, tested, and painted with our flag. If Britannia wants a fleet of Aragonese engines, we’ll sell you as many as you like. But the blueprints stay here."

The ambassador straightened in his chair, adjusting his cravat. "Surely, Your Highness, Britannia has always been a friend to Aragon. The sharing of such designs would benefit both our nations. The Francois Republic is growing bolder, and your technology may prove the edge needed to preserve the monarchic order."

"Which is precisely why we’ll keep it under control," Lancelot replied. "I have no doubt of your sincerity, Sir William. But when you sell a cannon, you choose where it fires. When you sell its design, you lose that choice forever."

A tense silence followed. The ambassador glanced at Alicia, who remained expressionless, then back to the Regent.

"...Then perhaps we might discuss something of greater urgency," he said finally. "The war."

Lancelot gave a slight nod. "I’m listening."

"The Francois Republic has now executed both King Léon and Queen Isabelle. The royalist forces are collapsing. Glanzreich and Prussia are engaged, but they’re bleeding. The Britton Fleet has managed to contain rebel ships in the Channel, but they’re seeking allies. We believe Aragon is in the best position to tip the scales."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "You want us to join the coalition."

"We do," Hargrove said. "Because this is no longer a war of succession. It is a war of ideas. The revolutionaries are exporting rebellion like it’s grain. They send pamphlets, agents, false promises. And people are listening, especially where monarchies grow weak or indifferent."

"And you fear those ideas will reach Britannia?" Lancelot asked.

"I fear they will reach all of us," the ambassador replied, tone serious now. "Your kingdom may be strong today, Your Highness, but ideas are patient. They wait. They spread. All it takes is one riot, one failed harvest, and suddenly even your well-fed people might begin asking whether they need a crown at all."

Lancelot glanced briefly at Alicia, then returned his gaze to the ambassador. "You think I should act out of fear."

"No, Regent. I think you should act because you’ve built something worth protecting."

Another long silence.

Then Lancelot spoke, measured and steady. "For the past five years, we’ve sold raw materials and machines to all sides. Prussia buys our brass. Glanzreich refits with our steel. Even Orosk buys our coal. We have stood above this war like a merchant among beggars. But you’re right about one thing."

He stood, slowly. His shadow fell across the map mounted on the wall, where red ink marked the spread of the Republic’s armies.

"They do not just kill kings. They kill stability. They kill order. They kill the future we’ve built."

Sir William rose as well.

"Then... may we count on Aragon’s support?"

Lancelot turned to face him directly. "You may. Aragon will join the coalition. We will fight—not for the old crowns, but for the future they once failed to protect. The Republic has burned one kingdom. It will not burn another."

The ambassador let out a quiet breath. "Then I shall inform London at once."

"You may also inform them that our navy will begin mobilization. Our rail lines are already ready to transport arms and troops. In three months, we will have the most disciplined, best-equipped force on the continent."

Sir William smiled. "I will send that message personally."

Updat𝓮d from freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.co(m)