The Shadow of Great Britain

Received such an infuriating letter from mom, oh! Oh! So infuriating!

——Alexandrina Victoria ”Queen Victoria’s Diary”

London’s wind is unreasonably cold.

As the carriage turned the corner at Strand Street, the cold wind pierced Arthur, forcing him to pull up his collar with his hand.

When the Buckingham Palace decree reached Lancaster Gate 36, he was by the fireplace in the living room, warming himself.

The fireplace had just heated the air, he was wearing a shirt, his cufflinks not yet fastened, when the ominous knock sounded outside the door.

He finally managed to have a quiet morning today, the appointment issue of the Earl of Dalmo had just been resolved, no disrespectful rogues like Liszt had emerged recently to offend veteran musicians, tenant Eld had also settled down due to Scotland Yard’s recent ”anti-vice campaign,” and even troublemakers like Great Dumas and Heine decided to stay in Paris for winter because of Britain’s cold winter...

However, just such a Sunday that should have belonged to peace was shattered by the needs of Buckingham Palace.

But there is no choice, that’s how the world is.

Everyone who has been a civil servant knows that each time the machinery of the state operates, it must pick the most inconvenient time for others.

When the attendant from Buckingham Palace led Arthur through the corridors, he was still inquiring why Victoria had summoned him today.

However, the attendants were also unclear about what was going on with the Queen today, only saying, ”Her Majesty the Queen is waiting in the dining room.”

The attendant pushed open the heavy double doors, and warmth and the aroma of baked bread wafted out.

Victoria was sitting right there.

She still sat at the head of the long table, her shawl draped over her shoulders, her cutlery placed even more neatly than any etiquette book required.

But her gaze didn’t fall on the plate; instead from the moment the door opened, it directed straight towards Arthur.

In that instant, Arthur even wondered if he was half an hour late.

After all, according to his understanding of Buckingham Palace, breakfast should be nearing its end by this time.

”Sir Arthur.” Victoria smiled and spoke, ”You have come?”

Arthur bowed and immediately shifted the blame, ”Upon hearing Your Majesty’s summons, I came at once.”

”I know, please have a seat.”

She pointed not to any other vacant seats, but the one usually reserved for Viscount Melbourne, conspicuously at her right-hand side.

”Breakfast today has already been prepared.” Victoria, fearing he might refuse, added, ”The kitchen prepared the rice pudding that you favor today.”

Arthur was somewhat surprised Victoria remembered this; he was not particularly fond of rice pudding, only not averse to it.

Why Victoria believed he liked it had to be traced back to the first time he had breakfast at Kensington Palace.

As is well known, the Royal Family has a huge set of cumbersome dining etiquettes, so at that time Arthur, to avoid embarrassment, kept picking the rice pudding placed in front of him, avoiding all other complicated dishes, which led everyone present to believe he had a unique fondness for the dish.

Of course, Arthur wasn’t going to disprove this now, but simply took his seat, glanced at the pile of white stuff on the silver platter, and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Sunday morning could have been his, shared with his fireplace, pipe, and the stack of unanswered letters.

Instead, he now had to coexist with this sticky misunderstanding.

”Your Majesty,” he spoke as gently as possible, ”You needn’t go through such trouble.”

Victoria laughed, watching him scoop out a large portion, ”I didn’t specifically instruct it, the kitchen just knows you like it.”

As Arthur had just put the rice pudding in his mouth, Victoria immediately asked, ”Is it good?”

Arthur almost choked, having to stabilize his voice first, ”Your Majesty, it’s as usual.”

Victoria nodded, somewhat comprehending, but still couldn’t resist observing whether he’d willingly continue with a second mouthful.

Regrettably, Arthur this time turned to the neighboring bacon.

While Arthur focused on breakfast, she turned The Times towards his direction, the reader’s letter prominently visible.

”Sir Arthur.”

”Your Majesty?”

”Look at this.”

Upon seeing The Times, Arthur even set aside the bacon.

The article wasn’t long, its focus simple, and Arthur quickly finished reading it.

However, when his gaze moved to the signature, Arthur couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

Whether it’s due to frequently dealing with One Penny Journalists recently, he now gets paranoid whenever he sees such a format of signature.

Although he told Victoria the Police Bill was to cover up her affair with Viscount Melbourne, in reality, Arthur truly regards this bill concerning his political career as significant.

For this, he had previously hinted to Lewis, asking him to lead his peers in publishing more pieces that would support the Police Bill’s passage.

Only, today’s article in The Times, Arthur couldn’t definitively say whether it was authored by Lewis and his crew.

Because the issue raised in the manuscript truly exists, yet Arthur didn’t specifically instruct Lewis and his men to tackle this angle.

However, recently London citizens’ attention towards similar criminal cases seems quite high, Scotland Yard’s recent rectification work targeting Holloway Street and Leicester Square, is due to pressure from the London Punishment Association.