The Shadow of Great Britain

Someone from the Bonaparte family?

Arthur put down the muffin in his hand, adjusted his cuffs, and casually pulled open the chair beside him: ”Let Louis come in.”

Before Becky turned to leave, he added: ”By the way, brew another pot of tea.”

Becky was taken aback for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Soon after, footsteps were heard from the hallway, the floor made a slight sound, and then returned to silence, the visitor finally appeared at the entrance of the living room.

Arthur looked up, his old secretary had clearly gone through many changes over the years.

In fact, it had been close to a year since Arthur last saw him.

Although this fellow had moved to London permanently after the failed Strasbourg coup.

However, last summer, Louis’s mother, Lady Audence, suddenly fell critically ill, prompting him to set off for her residence in Switzerland immediately, and stayed by her side until the very end. After his mother’s passing, Louis spent over half a year working to fulfill her dying wish—having her buried beside her grandmother Josephine, and finally, he managed to get the reluctant approval from the French July Monarchy Government.

However, the July Monarchy government stipulated that the condition for Louis’s mother’s burial in France was that Louis should not enter French territory, as they were still apprehensive about the Strasbourg coup from years ago. They could also imagine that if Louis were allowed into France, the funeral could potentially turn into a large Bonaparte party gathering. If mishandled, it might cause significant trouble later on.

Despite the July Monarchy government’s rationale, their decision ultimately led to Louis missing his mother’s funeral.

Heartbroken, Louis inherited his mother’s estate and went on a tour of other countries on the European Continent, only returning to London today.

But honestly, even though Arthur had not seen this old friend for nearly a year, he must admit he hadn’t particularly missed Louis during this period.

After all, London was tense due to the preparations for the coronation ceremony, and considering that a month later, the French Crown Prince Duke of Nemour and Marshal Sult would attend the ceremony as French envoys, Louis’s absence from London made Arthur’s job considerably easier.

Because, to be honest, this Home Office bureaucrat was indeed worried his old secretary might plot a Bonaparte Party conspiracy against the French crown prince. Even without such a plot, if Louis organized a protest of Bonaparte party exiles on the day the French delegation visited, it would still be enough to give Arthur a headache.

Therefore, this deputy secretary of the Home Office had already instructed Scotland Yard a month ago to closely monitor the Bonaparte family members’ activities in London and report any anomalies to the Home Office immediately.

However, Arthur hadn’t anticipated that despite guarding against everything, it’s hard to guard against betrayal from within—the unexpected return of his old friend Louis from his travel in Europe, ahead of schedule.

Arthur looked at Louis; his hair had been cut short, styled more neatly than before, his attire clearly more subdued, no longer seeking overly conspicuous styles. His dark coat was tailored to fit; while not fashionable, it perfectly met the dress requirements for a plainclothes detective set by Scotland Yard.

”Good morning, Arthur.” Louis spoke first: ”I hope I’m not interrupting your breakfast.”

Arthur’s gaze shifted from his face, gesturing to the chair by the table: ”Sit, we’re old friends. No need for formalities.”

Louis smiled lightly, taking off his hat and placing it on the table: ”A year away from London, the city has changed quite a bit, and so have you. I heard you’ve joined the Home Office?”

”Deputy Secretary of the Home Office.” Arthur smiled, pouring a cup of tea for Louis: ”Serving as Mr. Phillips’ assistant.”

Louis took the cup of tea in his palms, laughing with emotion: ”Phillips’ assistant... Back when you were at Scotland Yard, you never planned to be anyone’s assistant.”

Arthur picked up his own cup: ”People grow up, especially when they realize they can’t always stand on the streets.”

”That’s not what you said back then.” Louis followed up, smiling and shaking his head: ”Arthur Hastings was never one to stay long under others.”

Arthur glanced up at him: ”Louis, we’re not at the age for nostalgia yet.”

”Perhaps.” Louis pursed his lips: ”I’m simply lamenting that after my mother’s death, there’s one less familiar person in this world.”

This mention of his mother was perfectly timed, neither overly mournful nor self-pitying. It touched upon ”loss” without delving into details. Such restraint was not something the young man from a few years ago, who failed in the Strasbourg coup, could have managed.

He had indeed grown, reality had taught him much.

Arthur placed his cup back on the tray, creating a sound as the porcelain and silver collided: ”Although I’ve only met Lady Audence once, she was a remarkable woman; I never doubted that. But... if you came to see me this early just to say these things, then that would be wasting time.”

Louis’s eyes slightly shifted: ”I thought you’d be more tactful.”

”That’s courtesy for outsiders.” Arthur replied calmly: ”For old friends, I prefer saving each other’s energy.”

He paused, his tone still unhurried, yet leaving no room for retreat.

”Your timing in returning to London...” Arthur continued: ”is too coincidental.”