THE KHEDIVATE OF EGYPT
HIDIVIYET-I MISIR
HUSSEIN KAMEL PASHA
Cairo, Cairo Governate
13 August 1870
"Brother! You must tell me all about the Walrus's ridiculous whiskers, and how they sway in the wind whenever he speaks!"

Hussein Kamel Pasha, fresh off the boat from Trieste.
The words hung in the air, its tone dripping, accusing, scathing across the mortar and stone. Each word betrayed scalding bitterness, sullenly overflowing with being forsaken and deserted. It echoed again in his temporal lobes, setting off every single alarm he had mentally set up.
Of course, it may very well have been a fancy of Hussein's mind. His countenance exuded exuberance over the return of his beloved brother, and so did his. Skipping a formal handshake, Hussein seized him for an embrace, though perhaps despairing over what had been wrought upon his brother. Taking a second to mull over the situation, he broke free.
"The nəgusä nägäst has not raised a single finger on the matter of riots, I take it? How many embassies have been left standing?"
"He has, but not in our favour; newspapers and towncriers openly condemn Egypt. And I am afraid there should be none left by now."
"This is indeed dire news, a grave reflection upon the world. I will meet Tekle Giyorgis and demand compensation and a formal apology to-morrow's to-morrow."
Tewfik frowned. "I trusted you were better than this. What they did was an act of war and I, nay, Egypt shall not stand for it!"
"You are overreacting, brother, taking it too personally. There is naught to be feared, and all shall be dealt with over the course of a week."
Disapproving murmurs from the court. "Tens upon of tens of men and women, innocents, died within the last two weeks. Slaughtered, maimed, violated. Men and women I knew. Men and women I held in my arms, heard them in their dying breaths. Men and women we will never get back.
"You will find that the smoldering piles of rubble are tantamount to a declaration of war. You will find that THIS--" He took off his armsling, revealling three-and-a-half fingers, the rest ending in wicked, bandaged stumps. "-- is tantamount to a declaration of WAR.
"The Sphinx demands justice."
Ismail Selim trumpeted. "Magdala will BURN. Its men shall be drawn and quartered, its women defiled, its children sold into slavery, its groves burnt to the ground, all foundations UTTERLY DESTROYED! When we are through, they would think that there had NEVER been a city on its site!"
Tewfik roused the cabinet. "ETHIOPIA MUST FALL! LONG LIVE THE KHEDIVE!"
This was met with roars of applause and bloodthirsty approval. It may as well have been half a room of crones howling for blood and screaming bloody murder. Hussein turned absolutely pale.
Isma'il Pasha half-nodded in approval.
Hussein raised his voice, interrupting the festivities. "There still lies the matter of a formal casus belli. If you will allow me to," He peered around the room. Some, including Muhammad Sharif, protested a war with Ethiopia. "I will personally see to it that it shall be my honour to defuse the situation, restore peace to the region AND, and, wring heavy monetary concessions. I, and no other, shall save this great nation from our debt!"
Muhammad Sharif bolted up almost immediately. Oh, ever the fool. "Your Excellency, if I may. The Minister of Foreign Affairs has only returned from Vienna today, and he needs all the rest he could get." His eyes glinted with lust and avarice. "Surely there are others, more senior than he, who may succeed in such an endeavour and more? I present myself, as his second, to deal with this matter."
Isma'il boomed from his dais, recognising the smirk Hussein's grim countenance betrayed. "The honour shall be yours, Pasha, and none other."
Hussein recalled that they had received a letter from the Ottomans, summoning their representatives to court. His heart pounded in euphoria.






