The Revolution Came

Chapter 21: An Old Enemy

April 24th, 1933

He adjusted his suit and tie, his fingers tapping anxiously against the polished wooden table. The 20th Delegation Regiment stood at attention alongside the French National Guard, their rigid postures mirroring the tension in the air.

The grandeur of the Palais de Versailles surrounded them, a symbol of history, revolution, and power. He traced the intricate gold leaf designs on the walls with his eyes, a stark contrast to the battle-scarred streets of Revilla, where so many had fought and died for this very moment.

A knock at the door broke the silence.

He exchanged a glance with General Karl Brooker and the other delegates before the French National Guard swung open the doors, revealing Prime Minister Winston Churchill and his British delegation.

The room stood in unison. Hands were shaken, pleasantries exchanged, yet the weight of the moment loomed over them like a storm cloud.

"Good evening, Prime Minister," Karl said, offering a firm handshake.

Churchill, a cigar clamped between his teeth, exhaled a slow plume of smoke before speaking.

"Let’s not waste time, gentlemen. Britain is at war, and I have no patience for idle chatter."

The British delegation took their seats, their expressions unreadable.

Karl cleared his throat, his voice steady. "Prime Minister, our forces have triumphed. Revilla has fallen. The Colonial Ministry is in our hands. We demand full sovereignty over our nation, every government building, every military installation must be placed under our control. It is time Britain recognizes our independence."

The British delegates exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves. Churchill, unshaken, removed his cigar and tapped its ashes into a crystal ashtray.

"You demand a great deal for men who were, until recently, rebels against the Crown," Churchill mused. "Your victories are notable, but do not mistake them for an empire’s surrender. We have tamed greater revolts than yours before."

Karl’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Mey, one of the leading revolutionary delegates, spoke up.

"With all due respect, Prime Minister, your empire has taxed us without representation, denied us our rights, and massacred our people in Revilla. We fought because you left us no choice."

Churchill gave an unimpressed scoff, his fingers tightening around his cigar.

"Taxes, revolts, massacres... I have heard these grievances before. The Americans made similar complaints nearly two centuries ago. And yet, the Empire did not crumble."

His steel-blue gaze swept over the revolutionary delegates.

"You claim independence, yet you fail to grasp the weight of nationhood. Do you believe sovereignty is won merely by waving flags and shooting muskets? Great Britain is at war, our resources are stretched thin. And still, I would rather spill more British blood than grant full independence to a rabble unprepared to govern itself."

Tension bristled across the revolutionary side of the table.

Karl leaned forward, his voice unwavering.