Page 34 of The Broken Dawn

"The German Reich purchases nearly sixty percent of our iron ore exports," Sanden continued smoothly, his voice carrying the confidence of a man accustomed to having his counsel sought and heeded. "To jeopardize that relationship over... moral concerns... would be economic suicide."

Harald noticed how Sanden's pause before "moral concerns" made the phrase sound distasteful. The Commerce Minister's expensive gold watch chain caught the light as he adjusted his position, every movement deliberate and polished. Here was a man who saw the world through the lens of profit margins and trade agreements.

"That may be true, Torvald, but you must concede that it wouldn't be hard to find another market for Germany's portion of our exports. Britain, and other western powers would be incredibly keen on increasing their purchases."

"Better one bird in the hand than ten in the forest, as they say." Sanden said, his voice smug.

Harald watched the room dynamics shift. Lindström, ever the pragmatist, steered the conversation toward concrete actions—increased border patrols, diplomatic communications, economic contingencies. Harald found himself following the discussion with unexpected clarity, connecting it to his tactical training at Riddarhuset. The ministers' arguments about supply lines and defensive positions suddenly made sense in ways his textbooks never had.

"What about our military readiness?" Freddie asked, his first direct question of the meeting.

Defense Minister Ekström cleared his throat. "We've begun quiet mobilization of reserve units, Your Highness. Nothing that would alarm our neighbors, but enough to increase our readiness."

Harald thought of his classmates at Riddarhuset—would they be called up? Would Jakob? The thought made his stomach clench.

"And the royal family's security?" Mother asked from her chair, the question rich with maternal concern despite her exclusion from the formal discussion.

Harald tensed, waiting for the suggestion that he be sent away. To his surprise, it didn't come.

"We believe the royal family should remain visible to the people," Lindström said firmly, directing his answer to Father rather than Mother. "A symbol of stability in uncertain times. However, we should establish contingency plans for the younger members of the family. Given that this discussion concerns the royal children's safety, Her Majesty has been invited to observe today's proceedings."

The explanation felt pointed, making clear that Mother's presence was an exception rather than a right. Harald saw her jaw tighten.

Father nodded, then turned to Harald with unexpected directness. "You will continue your studies at Riddarhuset, Harald. Sweden needs educated officers now more than ever."

Relief washed through him, followed quickly by a new weight of responsibility. This wasn't about sending him away—it was about preparing him to serve.

"Yes, Father," he replied, straightening in his chair.

"And he should begin receiving the diplomatic cables," Freddie added unexpectedly. "If he's to be of use, he needs to understand the full picture."

Father considered this, then nodded. "Arrange it with the Foreign Office. Limited distribution, of course."

Harald stared at his brother, stunned by this show of confidence. Freddie gave him the briefest of nods before turning back to the discussion.

The meeting continued for another hour, Father's condition visibly deteriorating as the ministers debated details of Sweden's response. Finally, Lindström noticed the King's pallor and called for a recess until morning.

"We've covered enough ground for today," he said, gathering his papers. "The King needs rest, and we all need time to consider our positions."

As the ministers filed out, Harald remained seated, watching Freddie help Father to his feet. Mother rose from her observer's chair, her mask of indifference finally showing cracks of concern as she moved toward her husband.

"Harald," Father called, his voice weaker than before. "Walk with us."

Harald hurried to his father's other side, offering his arm. Together, he and Freddie supported Father's weight as they moved slowly toward the private apartments, Mother trailing behind them.

"You did well today," Father said between labored breaths. "Listened more than you spoke. Good quality in a prince."

"Thank you, Father," Harald replied, surprised by the unexpected praise.

"The diplomatic cables will help you understand what we're facing," Freddie added quietly. "Read them carefully. We'll need to discuss them when you next return to Stockholm."

Harald nodded, feeling the weight of this new responsibility. "I will."

As they reached the private wing, Father paused, leaning more heavily on his sons. "Sweden will remain neutral," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But neutrality requires strength. Remember that, both of you."

Harald met Freddie's eyes over their father's bowed head. For the first time in years, he felt truly connected to his brother—united in purpose if not in temperament.

"We will, Father," they answered in unison.