Ordinarily, when something unfavorable occurred, the United States' traditional strategy was simple:
Delay.
Stall for time until the problem faded away.
But this time, that tactic was impossible.
In the far southwest, the war with Mexico was still raging.
In the South, the mass escape of slaves and the resulting uprisings had yet to be suppressed.
And now the British Empire itself seemed on the verge of intervention.
The fire had to be extinguished immediately.
Recognizing the urgency, Congress reached a swift conclusion.
The crisis, they declared, had been nothing more than a reckless unilateral decision by the White House.
Every ounce of blame was piled onto President John Tyler.
Then they bowed their heads.
It was decided that a simple apology from Ambassador Everett would not carry enough weight.
So Secretary of State Daniel Webster personally traveled to Kingston to deliver the apology.
"Our investigation has concluded that this incident was a fabrication orchestrated by the President and the Governor of Virginia in order to deflect responsibility," Webster said stiffly.
"Congress has resolved to hold those responsible accountable and will take follow-up measures that the British Empire can find acceptable."
"I'm curious what those acceptable measures might be," I replied calmly.
"Well… if your government has particular demands, we will do our utmost to prioritize them."
"Since formal negotiations have not yet begun, there is no need to discuss detailed terms."
"But one urgent matter should be addressed immediately."
I gestured toward the map.
"The Oregon region."
"I believe it would be best if territorial disputes there ceased entirely."
"Since we currently occupy the majority of the land in practice, it would be reasonable for the United States to recognize British sovereignty."
Webster stiffened.
"The entire Oregon region may be… somewhat excessive."
At the time, Oregon did not merely refer to the modern state.
It included most of Washington, Idaho, British Columbia, and parts of Wyoming and Montana.
An enormous territory.
No wonder he looked horrified.
But what choice did he have?
"If the border remains unclear," I continued,
"slave hunters may once again cross into our territory."
"Actually, even when the border was clear, armed men crossed it and attacked our settlements."
"If the border remains ambiguous, you can imagine what will happen."
"Even now, we are receiving reports of looting along the frontier, carried out under the pretext of war."
"If this continues, the British Empire may have no choice but to intervene."
"Would that be acceptable to you?"
Webster's face paled.
"N-no… of course not."
"Very well."
"We will recognize Britain's occupation of Oregon."
"Good."
"As for the rest, we will decide after hearing the conditions proposed by the United States."
"And what conditions does your government intend to offer?"
Webster cleared his throat.
"First, all individuals responsible for this incident will resign."
"Second, compensation will be paid to the affected regions."
"And Her Majesty the Queen will also receive a formal gesture of goodwill—"
"That's all?"
Benjamin Disraeli, who had been listening quietly, let out a soft laugh.
"I'm afraid the United States still does not understand the seriousness of this situation."
"The British Parliament is currently seriously considering intervention."
"To be frank, we have already fought two wars with your country."
"We would rather avoid repeating history."
"But British public opinion believes the United States has directly threatened Her Majesty, who is the pride of our nation."
"This cannot be dismissed as the President's personal mistake."
Webster nodded stiffly.
"Yes… we understand that."
"After all," Disraeli continued smoothly,
"even if it were the President's unilateral decision, what is the President?"
"The representative of the American people."
"The face of the United States."
"If such a person commits wrongdoing, then surely the responsibility belongs to the nation itself."
"That is what democracy means, is it not?"
Indeed.
Palmerston and I both nodded in agreement.
Beads of sweat began forming on Webster's forehead.
"Well… yes."
"But the concessions we can make under the current circumstances are somewhat limited—"
That was enough pressure.
Time to harvest the seeds I had planted.
I signaled discreetly to Benjamin to ease off and took the lead again.
"Limited perhaps, but not nonexistent."
"I originally intended to reserve these matters for formal negotiations."
"But circumstances have changed."
"Surely you agree that such incidents must never happen again."
"Of course," Webster replied quickly.
"We will strengthen border control measures—"
"Locking the door is important," I said.
"But if thieves continue wandering outside, the door will eventually be broken."
"Would it not be wiser to reduce the number of thieves?"
"I believe Your Royal Highness is correct," Webster muttered.
"To prevent such incidents," I continued,
"there must be no excuse for armed men crossing the border."
"And what is required to achieve that?"
Webster's face went completely white.
Ah.
He had understood.
"But… if we did that, the Southern states would strongly oppose it."
"Is that so?"
"So your government believes that, because the South might object, the British Empire must continue facing such dangers?"
"If that is truly the position of the United States—"
"N-no!"
Webster waved his hands frantically.
"I only meant it might take a few months to manage the political opposition."
"Of course that is not our intention."
"Good."
"Then the treaty must clearly state the following."
"Any person who crosses into Canada, regardless of status, will be protected under British law."
"And anyone attempting to seize such individuals and return them south will be considered kidnapping a British subject."
In other words—
Escaped slaves who reached Canada were no longer runaway property.
They were people under British protection.
Southern plantation owners would undoubtedly rage at the idea.
But what could they do?
If their property was so precious—
They should have guarded it better.
"Furthermore," I continued,
"anyone caught attempting such kidnappings—and anyone who purchases those kidnapped individuals—must be punished under British law."
"That alone should discourage armed men from crossing the border."
Webster swallowed.
"…Understood."
"I will bring this matter before Congress immediately."
The South would protest violently.
But Northern politicians who opposed slavery would enthusiastically support the measure.
And if anyone objected?
The answer was simple:
Would you prefer war with the British Empire instead?
"Now then," I said casually,
"perhaps it is time to end the war with Mexico."
"A war without justification benefits no one."
"That may be true," Webster admitted.
"But Mexico strongly opposes any settlement."
"Do not worry."
"We will mediate."
"This continent currently hosts Her Majesty the Queen of the British Empire."
"Our physicians insist that Her Majesty must maintain a calm and stable environment."
"With such instability in the south, how can she possibly rest?"
"…Understood."
"I will deliver your demands to Congress and return with an answer as soon as possible."
Webster deliberately avoided giving a specific deadline.
But before he could escape—
Queen Victoria, who had been quietly observing from the throne, finally spoke.
"So… is the United States agreeing to our demands immediately?"
Webster froze.
"Y-Your Majesty, that is not quite—"
"Killian," Victoria said softly,
"and my loyal members of Parliament."
"Since I arrived on this continent, the United States has not told the truth even once."
"How can I trust their promises now?"
Her voice trembled with fear.
Disraeli and Palmerston immediately stiffened.
"Y-Your Majesty!"
"We deeply apologize!"
"We did not fully consider Your Majesty's feelings!"
"It's not your fault," Victoria said gently.
"I know you all seek the best outcome for the nation."
"And my beloved Killian as well."
"But as a mother… perhaps it is my instinct to protect my child."
"I cannot suppress this uneasy feeling."
"How can I trust a nation that has lied to us repeatedly?"
Tears glimmered in her eyes.
Webster looked like a condemned criminal.
And naturally—
As her husband, it was my duty to protect her.
"Your Majesty," I said calmly,
"please do not worry."
"The British Empire will protect your safety above all else."
I turned toward the parliamentarians.
"Mr. Disraeli. Lord Palmerston."
"Perhaps my thinking was too limited."
"As an admiral—however honorary the position may be—I believe the Royal Navy should be dispatched immediately to ensure Her Majesty's safety."
"Can I count on Parliament's approval?"
"Of course!" Disraeli replied instantly.
"I will send word to London immediately."
Palmerston nodded.
"I fully agree."
"Perhaps we viewed the situation too narrowly from a diplomatic perspective."
"W-wait!" Webster shouted.
"You cannot be serious!"
"Sending the Royal Navy—does that mean war with the United States?"
"Not at all."
"The fleet will simply sail to Canadian ports."
"Her Majesty is understandably anxious."
"But if her anxiety continues even after the fleet arrives…"
I smiled faintly.
"…then we may have to remove the cause of that anxiety by more decisive means."
It would take about two weeks for news to reach Britain.
Another two weeks for the fleet to arrive in Canada.
In other words—
One month.
If the United States failed to produce a satisfactory answer within that time…
Their coastline might soon resemble a battlefield.
Webster looked ready to protest the blatant threat.
But then he saw Victoria wiping tears as she leaned into my arms.
He sighed deeply.
And said nothing.
As he staggered out of the chamber, he never noticed Victoria winking at me.
Nor did he see the thumbs-up I quietly gave her.
Probably for the best.
Mexico
Once Webster had departed, I immediately summoned the Mexican ambassador, Cuevas.
"I hear Mexico is fighting admirably."
"Now that the truth has come to light, the British Empire has decided it cannot ignore this outrage by the United States."
"R-really?"
Cuevas leaned forward eagerly.
"Then you will join us in attacking the United States?"
"Unfortunately, that will not be possible."
"Her Majesty is in the early stages of pregnancy."
"Her well-being must remain our highest priority."
"Therefore Parliament believes the war should be ended immediately."
Technically, the proposal was still crossing the Atlantic.
But Parliament would never reject it.
I would have loved to help Mexico more.
But what could I do?
Parliament disliked unnecessary spending.
"Ah… so Britain will mediate the war," Cuevas said slowly.
"Of course."
"Our citizens are furious about the turmoil on this continent."
"This is the first time Her Majesty has crossed the Atlantic."
"Understandably, the public is anxious."
"I completely understand," Cuevas replied.
Mexico already knew the truth.
Even if the United States was currently unstable—
Once a new administration took power and the South stabilized—
Mexico would stand no chance.
Ending the war quickly was in their best interest as well.
Seeing that the ambassador seemed agreeable, I smiled warmly and unrolled a map.
"Since we are in agreement, let us discuss the timeline for transferring Alta California to Britain, as we previously discussed."
Cuevas blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
"Why the surprise?"
"If war broke out between your country and the United States and Britain intervened as mediator, Mexico agreed to transfer Alta California to us."
Perhaps he had simply forgotten.
After all, recent events had been rather stressful.
I was merely reminding him out of kindness.
"Ah… although Alta California is somewhat large," I said thoughtfully,
"perhaps transferring the entire region would be excessive."
At the time, Alta California included not only California—
But also Nevada, Arizona, Utah, and Colorado.
A vast territory.
If you eat too quickly, you get indigestion.
One must consider the other party's financial situation as well.
After all—
Thoughtful diplomacy is the guiding principle of the British Empire under my leadership.