Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

Back at Pittsburgh, Poul paced toward the office and entered. There, he saw Jonathan drawing a diagram in the blueprints. He promptly looked up upon Poul's entrance and spoke.

"What's gotten into you, Poul? Entering the office so suddenly?"

"Well, get this Jonathan," Poul approached Jonathan's table and set the note down.

"What's this?" Jonathan picked up the note on the table and perused the contents.

"An invitation from the President of the United States himself, Garfield," Poul announced.

Jonathan carefully read the note, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting on the high-quality parchment paper. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"To the esteemed founders of the Axelsen & Nielsen Arms Manufacturing Company, it is with great honor that you are cordially invited to attend a special gathering at the White House, hosted by the British Empire. Your presence is requested as a special guest, as His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince of Wales, wishes to meet with you personally."

Jonathan paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing, "This invitation is extended to you in recognition of your exceptional contributions to the development of modern warfare technology, and your company's unwavering commitment to the advancement of the art of war. Your attendance at this gathering will undoubtedly be a significant moment in the ongoing partnership between our two great nations."

At the end of the note, he saw the signature of the President himself, making the note look all the more legitimate.

Jonathan looked up from the note, his eyes meeting Poul. "Is this real? The President and the Crown Prince of the British Empire wanted to see us?"

"That's right. They must have taken notice of the weapons used in the Crimean War, on how the Allied forces were defeated by the Russians because the Russians used our AN-M1 rifles? You know what I think."

"What?"

"I think that the Crown Prince is going to purchase some rifles from us," Poul said, rubbing his chin. "Because why else would he be here and address us as the founder of the Axelsen & Nielsen Arms Manufacturing Company?"

"So they realized the capabilities of the rifles and that their own is so far behind that in order to catch up, they will buy the same rifle used by the Russians?"

"Exactly!" Poul confirmed.

Jonathan shifted his eyes back to the note once again, looking at the date. "So, we are to come to the White House, where the president lives, on April the 1st?"

Poul nodded eagerly, excitement written all over his face. "Yes, can you believe it? We're going to meet the Crown Prince of Wales and the President of the United States! This is a huge opportunity for our company, free advertising at its finest."

"Well, in that case, we should buy a new suit. The ones that we have been using are not suitable for such a formal event," Jonathan said, standing up from his chair.

Poul nodded in agreement, "I was thinking the same thing. We need to make a good impression on the Crown Prince and the President."

Jonathan grabbed his coat and headed towards the door, motioning for Poul to follow him.

"Let's go shopping then. We can't afford to look like amateurs in front of such esteemed guests."

"I'm going to inform Amelia about this trip, and tell her to prepare anything necessary for the meeting."

***

March 30th, 884. In one of the many rooms of the transatlantic ship, the Crown Prince of the British Empire, Prince Alexander, and Lady Ascart were in the same room, waiting as the ship was about to dock in the Port of New York.

March 30th, 1884. The air in the room was thick with anticipation as the Crown Prince of the British Empire, Prince Alexander, and Lady Ascart stood side by side, waiting for the transatlantic ship to dock in the Port of New York. The room was elegantly furnished with plush chairs and a mahogany table, adorned with a vase of fresh flowers in the center. The walls were decorated with intricate paintings, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room.

The Crown Prince was dressed in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit, his dark hair styled impeccably. He exuded an air of regal sophistication, and his piercing dark purple eyes seemed to take in everything around him with a keen interest. Lady Ascart, on the other hand, was dressed in a stunning emerald green gown that complemented her blonde curls perfectly. Her hazel eyes were bright with excitement as she fidgeted with the lace on her sleeves.

As the ship approached the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull could be heard from the room. The Crown Prince and Lady Ascart exchanged a look, both feeling a sense of nervousness and excitement. This was the first time the Crown Prince had ever set foot on American soil, and the anticipation was palpable.

A knock on the door interrupted their thoughts, and a member of the ship's crew entered the room. "Your Highness, Lady Ascart, we have arrived at the Port of New York. If you follow me, we'll escort you to the disembarkation point."

The Crown Prince nodded, and the three of them made their way out of the room and onto the deck of the ship. The fresh sea breeze hit them as they stepped out, and the Crown Prince took a deep breath, relishing the scent of salt in the air. The ship was met by a crowd of people eagerly waiting to catch a glimpse of the Crown Prince and Lady Ascart, and they were ushered onto a carriage waiting for them on the dock.

As they rode through the bustling streets of New York in a horse-drawn carriage, the Crown Prince and Lady Ascart marveled at the sights and sounds around them. The energy of the city was a stark contrast to the more reserved atmosphere of London.

Meanwhile, Prince Alexander was feeling a sense of unease about Penelope's wanting to visit the United States in the middle of the war upon the mention of the arms manufacturing company.

"Lady Ascart, now that we are here, may I know why you want to see the founders of the arms manufacturing company in person? Are they related to you?"

"Probably…" Penelope said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alexander let out a forced chuckle. "That can't be possible, Lady Ascart. How can you have relatives in the United States? Also, I already made investigations into the identity of the founders. One of them is an Albian, I believe his name is Poul Nielsen."

"Poul…" Penelope repeated, that name is really familiar to her. She smiled.

She turned to the Crown Prince, her smile still playing at the corners of her lips. "Oh, it's nothing, Your Highness. I just have a feeling that this meeting will be quite interesting."

Alexander narrowed his eyes at her, sensing that there was more to her words than she was letting on. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Penelope having a connection to one of the founders of the arms manufacturing company. He quickly tried to suppress the feeling of possessiveness that arose within him, knowing that he had no legitimate claim over her and should not act on such emotions.

As the carriage made its way towards its destination, the Crown Prince couldn't help but notice Penelope's smile and how it seemed to light up her entire face. He couldn't shake off the feeling of jealousy that had crept up on him earlier, and he found himself studying her every move. The way she smiled, the way she fidgeted with the lace on her sleeves, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of meeting the founders of the arms manufacturing company.

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