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Kapitel 82: 'Fuck.'

Two days later.

Felipe was no longer on dry land as he saw the port of London slowly escape his vision.

He was now empowered by a 1-million-pound loan on the condition that he would become King of Greece within 6 Months starting from January 1st of 1828, meaning the following year. The Loan put the condition of creating land for the Jews in the territory of Palestine to safely pilgrimage in the Palestine Region.

Felipe made it vague as he wanted to set up the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but he was still angry with them despite coming back to accept his offer. 

Basically, he was going to war, and if something were not to go according to plan, the debt that the Jews made to him would mature with minimal interest but would still be maturing and going back to them. But if he were actually to do something and somehow take upon the Ottomans, Felipe would have to give them the right of way to create a land. 

"What is the bear going to do? What does the line go to do? What is the rooster going to do?" Felipe wondered as he saw the icy cold waters getting spiked. 

He was a brad going on a semi-world tour with the final goal of reaching Greece, declaring himself King, and then starting waging war against the Ottomans—anyone else would see that as a laughing matter, but there were already hundreds of millions of 21st-century dollars at stake. 

"Hahaha, what a dumb thing to do." Felipe began to laugh maniacally, realizing what he was doing and settled in for the 100th Time in the past two months. 

--

Casablanca P.O.V. 

[Dear mother and Sister,

The travel from North America was harsh… I am not fit to be a sailor, even though I thought I was, but the Atlantic is no man's comfort zone.

The month I passed in the sea was the worst; I do not know how His Majesty could write during such rough weather!

Soon, we were at the shores of the mighty nation of the UK, which was quite beautiful. However, his Majesty assured me we were not even in the main capital port, akin to a semi-desolated port in the empire. He was not wrong! When we got near London, I saw the smoke rise into the air like the city was in flames. 

We were reminded of how much His Majesty the Prince worked in London. Before volunteering to fight the Venezuelans, I had very little information about the Crown Prince as a person… but after the Journey from the Orinoco Valleys to London, I am genuinely reassured that he is human. 

We would typically take turns being his main bodyguards, and we saw the same type of document flow back into the empire after His Majesty conquered Venezuela. 

I would not be able to do all that! He does all the tedious work, and he is just like that.

His stay in London made us realize how popular the crown Prince was. The first Time we arrived, we were swarmed, just like in North America. We left for a big building a few days later, yet no one seemed to recognize the Prince. The next day, the Embassy was being swarmed, but it was not thanks to protestors but people with books in their hands. 

It looked as if many people would go to church before opening with their Bibles in their hands, trying to repent.

In the middle of our stay, the couple who gave us Cookies also arrived at the Embassy and stayed for six days there, during which they had multiple meetings with His Majesty the Prince. I found out that the Prince would grant them a loan to start a Cookie business—and they will succeed if they continue baking the same cookies they gave us. 

It is common for the Prince to start a business and Federations… the Federation of the Potatoes, The Federation of Rice, Wheat, corn, and everything the empire would produce, including the Federation of Sugar. When I was small, I did not understand why they were named federations, as only countries were named after that. Still, it made me wonder if a cookie federation would ever exist. 

At that Time, we got the news that the Prince would go to Greece and Reclaim the Throne of King of Greece. I understood enough European history and current matters to understand what that meant. We all decided to volunteer for the whole expedition, so be it even as just bodyguards, the Prince accepted. 

Now, after surveying the coast of France for a while, we are arriving at the mouth of a vast river; the wind is helping us to go against the current of the massive river. As I look at the European houses at the border of the river, I can not stop thinking about all the things I have lived until now in so little Time! Passages to the Americas are expensive enough, much less a European Tour.

I see now somehow the worldview of the Prince; he grew up in great countries, he knows what could it be and what it will be…]

"Casablanca! What are you doing? Writing a letter home, huh? Will you also write that you went to enough Brothels that His Majesty got angry with you?" Rojas roared as he sneaked up behind me. 

"Fuck you, Rojas! You were any better!" Really fuck you.

"What!? How can I not taste English Pussy!? Once in a lifetime! Same in France! I heard here they have the sluttiest and most pretty girls from across the world!"

'This idiot, at least he is no longer taking the letter to read aloud.' We have given him a lesson.

"…" 

'Either way… a man does have needs, including the Prince.' I did not write that.

--

3rd P.O.V. 

 The Arrival to Paris was not met with friendliness, such as in the UK or the USA; there were a lot of French Soldiers at the port, and there were many soldiers at the port of the UK. However, they were accompanied by Colombian Soldiers with a massive crowd of people around whom they were holding off. 

The difference between the UK and Paris was that there was not a single civilian soul on the street; there were just some workers and soldiers. Many buildings had windows cracked open, and everyone looked at the Dock as if they were looking to meet him. 

"Shit… this might be quite the horrendous miscalculation." Felipe cursed as he could only laugh, "They would not arrest the Monarch of a country, would they?" Even though he was still a prince, he was simultaneously the Gran Duke of Venezuela, a title akin to King/head of state. 

Doing so would be a massive blunder in international law. Even though his country might not have been as powerful as all others, he was still somewhat influential. After all, he was no longer a monarch in the eyes of everyone but the most successful author of the Time! Plus, his genius was quite well-known already. 

"Yeah, right… not possible." Felipe looked at his men and just gave them a head movement. They all fell into positions immediately, finally docking on the stone dock. 

Ropes were thrown to the Dock, and the ship was quickly secured. The dock workers rapidly put together a ramp in collaboration with his sailors. 

He did not put on any airs and went forward in front of everyone, as he did not care about the amount of soldiers. He was, after all, a head of state. 

 "Good morning. I am Felipe Antonio Arboleda de Aragon Toro, Imperial Prince of the Colombian Empire and Gran Duke of the Gran Duchy of Venezuela. I am here for foreign affairs purposes." Felipe said in perfect French without stuttering a single bit. 

Felipe felt like a peacock trying to scare off a predator, thinking that with enough flared feathers, he would make himself more powerful than he was. "Oui, we know. Under the command of His Majesty the King, you are to be escorted to the temporary residence, where you will be under house arrest." 

'Fuck.'

"Your soldiers will be asked to hand over their weapons and possession of the Vessel until further notice." The Soldier answered in French and did not change his expression as he observed Felipe's straight haircut.

"I am afraid that can not be." Felipe smiled, "to do so would be a declaration of war, as it would be the greatest show of humiliation that a head of state could receive."

"…" The head of the soldiers looked at Felipe with some concern as his directions were not to harm him; however, he feared for his own life in front of Felipe; plus, if a war were to break down, it would be his fault for not complying with Felipe's refusal. 

"Excuse me, I am afraid this is a misunderstanding… the reason for the house arrest is due to credible sources which you are the target of assassination." The Soldier said as he bowed a bit, and it came naturally to show an apologetic attitude. 

"Understandable." Felipe was unwilling to probe the apparent lie and make it worse; he just went along with it. 


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