The Shadow of Great Britain

My dearest Uncle, I must formally invite you now. If you, dear Aunt Louise, and your son, Little Leopold (I insist on his coming), can visit in mid or late August, I would be immensely delighted. Please stay longer than usual, at least for two weeks. You may bring any gentlemen, ladies, maids, or other attendants with you at will. If I could welcome you under my roof and you could attend the concert at Buckingham Palace, I would feel immensely happy and proud.

—— ”Victoria’s Letters Collection” Alexandrina Victoria

The morning in Buckingham Palace Garden was exceptionally quiet.

The late summer air of London carried a trace of coolness, and the dewdrops on the grass blades shimmered with a subtle silver glow under the sunlight.

In the distance, flocks of pigeons were circling low among the stone paths, occasionally flapping up and then gracefully landing on the statues by the fountain.

Along the main flower path, the neatly trimmed yew hedges stretched toward the direction of the conservatory. The glass windows of the conservatory were covered with a faint mist, revealing the lush greenery inside.

Victoria, dressed in a light blue morning gown, with her hair loosely tied at the back of her head, walked silently on the gravel path in satin shoes, making almost no sound.

She walked slowly, her gaze occasionally sweeping across the blooming roses in the flower beds, sometimes stopping on the leisurely swans by the lake.

Not far away, a gentleman in a deep gray morning suit was already waiting by the bench.

It was her uncle, King Leopold I of Belgium.

Seeing his niece approaching, he gently lifted his hat brim, stood up, and jokingly said, ”Delina, you’ve gotten fat.”

Victoria was slightly taken aback by the words, then couldn’t help but complain, ”I already am being careful, my dear Uncle.”

She quickened her pace, walked to her uncle’s side, and gave him a hug, ”I sincerely thank you for your letters in the past few months. If not for your guidance behind the scenes, I would hardly know how to face the situation after ascending the throne.”

Leopold laughed heartily and patted his niece on the cheek, ”I also sincerely thank you for being able to listen to my ramblings. Delina, your newly gained honor neither diminishes nor increases my long-standing love for you. May God bless you, and may I have the fortune to serve you. Seeing you succeed in your new endeavor, nothing could make me happier.”

Victoria gently released her uncle from the embrace, her tone carrying a touch of girl-like honesty and unease, ”Every word you say is etched in my heart. In your view, is there anything I should do but haven’t done yet?”

Leopold, seeing his niece’s earnest look, couldn’t help but nod slightly, ”Delina, for you, maintaining confidence is the most important. I’ve seen your accession declaration in the Belgian newspapers; it was written succinctly and appropriately. Especially the sentence ’I was raised in England,’ was written very well! You should feel proud of it, and since your cousins were not born in England, I suggest you continue to vigorously promote this point; it benefits you. There can never be too much praise for the homeland and its people. You must know, Europe has two nations that often become almost laughable for their excessive self-praise, namely the English and the French. Therefore, as the monarch of Britain, showing a strong sense of national identity is extremely important. Since you happen to have been born in England and have never left, you should make good use of this advantage.”

Victoria sat beside her uncle, earnestly picking up a small notebook to jot down her uncle’s advice one by one.

Seeing Victoria’s actions, Leopold couldn’t help but pause and half-jokingly asked, ”When did you develop the habit of note-taking?”

”I learned it from Sir Arthur Hastings,” she looked up at her uncle, her tone carrying a touch of intimacy and pride, ”Wherever he goes, he always carries such a booklet. I asked him why he does this, and he said it’s to jot down useful advice anytime, anywhere.”

At this point, Victoria seemed to recall something and, smiling, spoke again to her uncle, ”The accession declaration you mentioned earlier was actually drafted with Sir Arthur’s help at the last minute.”

Leopold’s expression changed slightly upon hearing this.

”Ah, is that so,” he said slowly, sounding as if he was casually mentioning a rumor, ”then it’s not surprising. No wonder there was a passage about religious emancipation in your accession declaration.”

”Religious emancipation?” Victoria raised her head somewhat in surprise, ”Are you talking about the part that says ’I will uphold the religious system established by law, while ensuring all subjects enjoy religious freedom’?”

”Yes, at first I thought that phrase was imposed on you by the Whig Party,” Leopold nodded gently, ”That sentence caused a fair bit of discussion in Belgium as well, most of them positive, of course.”

Victoria’s brows furrowed slightly, and her voice lowered, ”But Sir Arthur later explained to me that it was only meant to express tolerance, indicating that I am unwilling to harm any subject due to differences in faith.”

Leopold hmmed softly, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, then sighed lightly, ”That does seem like something he would say... However, Delina, there’s one thing you should know: Sir Arthur Hastings was originally a Catholic.”

”A Catholic?”

”Yes.” Leopold’s tone was calm, as if merely stating an innocuous fact, ”To my knowledge, he only converted to the National Church a few years ago. And in his youth, he seemed to be quite closely associated with certain individuals on the continent—Paris, Hanover, and... I think, Russia? Such a richly varied life experience would lead one to ponder the relationship between faith and order.”