Chapter 0645: Begging for Mercy

The Italian Minister of the Navy, Francesco, was a balding middle-aged man, not of naval origin. His rise to this prestigious position had been entirely due to his close personal relationship with King Vittorio Emanuele III. 

It was no wonder, then, that the Italian navy's strength was far from impressive under the leadership of an outsider.

Francesco paced nervously in the telegraph office of the Ministry of the Navy, anxiously awaiting news from the decisive naval battle. He knew full well that both the King and the Prime Minister were also waiting, for the outcome of this battle was of critical importance to the Kingdom of Italy. The very fate of the nation hung in the balance.

"Why is there still no word?" Francesco muttered, his worry growing. "Could it be that we've lost? What will we do then?"

Francesco, although not a naval officer, was well aware of the formidable might of the German navy. His pessimism about the outcome of the battle was rooted in this knowledge. While the Allied fleet was not without strength, it was no match for the might of Germany's naval forces. Defeating the German fleet seemed a near impossibility.

Now, many high-ranking Italian officials harbored deep resentment toward the decision to betray the Central Powers and join the Allies. They viewed it as a path to ruin. Had Italy remained with the Central Powers, victory in the war might have been assured, and they would have shared in the spoils. Instead, the kingdom now teetered on the brink of destruction.

"Your Excellency, a telegram from General Paolo," the secretary announced, breaking Francesco's reverie.

Francesco snatched the telegram from the secretary's hands, tearing it open and scanning its contents. His face immediately drained of color.

"Damn it... we've really lost. What are we to do now?" he whispered, his voice heavy with despair.

As expected, the Allied fleet had been decisively defeated, inflicting minimal damage on the German navy. The Germans had emerged victorious, yet again, in this crucial naval clash. For the Allies, it was nothing short of a catastrophe.

Francesco rushed to the royal palace to report the disastrous news to King Vittorio Emanuele III and Prime Minister Antonio Salandra. With the naval defeat now a certainty, preparations for what lay ahead were paramount. Italy stood little chance of withstanding a full-scale German invasion.

When Francesco delivered the news of the naval defeat to the King and Prime Minister, both men were stunned into silence.

"So, it's true... we've lost. I knew it, I knew we couldn't defeat the Germans," King Vittorio Emanuele III lamented bitterly, his face a mask of regret.

Prime Minister Antonio Salandra's expression was equally grim. With the navy lost, Italy's fate seemed sealed.

"Your Majesty, now is not the time for regret. The battle is lost. There are no more chances. We must now find a way to preserve what is left of the Kingdom of Italy," Salandra urged, his voice steady but tinged with urgency.

"Yes, yes, we must protect Italy," the King nodded vehemently. Though the battle had been lost, preserving the Kingdom was imperative. Italy had only been unified for a little over forty years. The prospect of another collapse and division was intolerable.

"Summon the Foreign Minister. If we are to negotiate peace with Germany, he is the most suitable person for the task," Salandra continued.

The King offered no objection.

Soon, Foreign Minister Paolo Boselli arrived at the royal palace. Upon learning of the fleet's crushing defeat, his expression mirrored the others'.

"Your Majesty, given the current situation, it is clear that the war cannot continue. If we are to preserve the Kingdom, we must seek peace with the Germans and end this war," Boselli said, his tone grave.

"Indeed, I agree. I have decided to appoint you with full authority to negotiate with Germany," King Vittorio Emanuele III declared.

Boselli nodded. "Your Majesty, I accept the responsibility of serving the Kingdom. However, we must face the reality that, having been defeated, we will pay a heavy price to seek peace. The Germans will not let us off lightly."

A flicker of pain crossed the King's face. He understood that this peace would come at a high cost. Reluctantly, he accepted that there was little choice but to appease the Germans. After all, Italy had foolishly betrayed the Central Powers, aligning itself with the Allies. It had been a self-destructive decision from the start.

"Do what you can to negotiate, but try to minimize the cost to the Kingdom," Salandra urged. "The Kingdom has already paid a heavy toll in this war. If we are further extorted by the Germans, we may not survive it."

Indeed, Italy's losses had been considerable. The army had been shattered in the north by the Austro-German forces, losing significant territory. The main battle fleet had been obliterated. These were unimaginable losses for a nation that had hoped to profit from the war.

"I will do my best, Your Majesty, Prime Minister," Boselli replied. "But I fear we must prepare ourselves to be extorted. The Germans hold such an overwhelming advantage. If they wish, they could wipe us out entirely. Hoping for mercy from them is almost impossible."

Both the King and the Prime Minister nodded grimly. They knew how dire the situation was for Italy. If they were lucky, Germany might show some leniency. But beyond that, all they could do was try to satisfy the Germans' demands as much as possible.