Charles remained silent. The Golden Document—that guillotine hanging overhead. McTavish kept it, not for exposure, but to keep London perpetually on its knees.
"So you agreed to it all?" Charles asked softly.
"What else could I do?!"
The Prime Minister suddenly erupted in anger, smashing his cigar onto the ground, sending sparks flying, "Your Highness! Open your eyes and see! A sports event in Delhi tore off the last facade of the Commonwealth! Scotland is holding a gun to our heads! Millions in England are taking to the streets demanding our resignation! Europe is laughing at us! The United States is playing dead! Mexico is sharpening its knives! What do we have left? Huh?! What leverage do we have?!"
