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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: A Call from Buckingham (3)
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After John Conroy left, looking pleased, I soothed my dry mouth with a cool glass of water.
My head was spinning from having to humor a man so far beneath his station.
To think the British royal family was being manipulated by such a B-list villain. Is the monarchy really going to be okay?
Well, it wasn't all bad, since I stood to gain from it, but I couldn't shake the feeling of how pathetic it all was.
There was no point in standing here awkwardly by myself, so I decided to head back to the group of students.
My Eton uniform was already drawing enough unwanted attention as it was.
Unfortunately, my attempt to quietly blend into the crowd was thwarted by Robert, who came rushing over.
"Killian! There you are. I've been looking all over for you."
"Ah, someone pulled me aside to a corner for a quick chat. Is the headmaster looking for me?"
"No, Dr. Keate is busy trying to thaw out the students who've frozen stiff. But there's someone over there who would like to see you. If you have a moment, would you like to go and say hello?"
"Me?"
The moment had finally come.
He must have been hearing reports from Robert all this time, but it's only natural to want to see me in person now that he had the chance.
Besides, I had made sure to leak information about my visits to Kensington Palace, so of course he'd be curious.
I had already anticipated encountering senior members of the Tory Party at this commemoration.
"I was hoping to greet him as well. This is perfect. Let's go right now."
"Really? Then let's go."
I was already planning to expand my business into horse racing before winding down the casino, so this worked out rather well.
Building a connection with the Duke of Rutland, who had considerable influence in that industry, could only help, not hinder.
But the moment I followed Robert toward the center of the Grand Hall.
I froze on the spot, my mind still rehearsing greetings for the Duke of Rutland.
"Ah, it's been a while. Have you been well?"
What? It wasn't the Duke of Rutland, but the Duke of Wellington?
When I turned to Robert with a bewildered look, he seemed to realize he hadn't mentioned who wanted to see me. With a look of 'oops,' he quickly vanished.
Still, this was within the realm of my expectations.
The Duke of Wellington was likely Eton's most celebrated alumnus; it would have been stranger if he hadn't come.
The problem was the two other men standing next to him, who were clearly anything but ordinary.
One of them, a slender, elderly gentleman, stood beside the Duke, his eyes fixed on me.
The other, a portly middle-aged man, turned to the Duke of Wellington with an affable smile.
"Oh, is this the boy Your Grace wrote a letter of recommendation for? One look at his face and you can tell he's bright. Or perhaps I feel that way simply because he's so handsome? Haha."
"You'll see for yourself once you speak with him."
"I suppose that's why Your Grace wrote him a recommendation right after your first meeting."
The portly, middle-aged gentleman, who had been studying me with interest, suddenly extended his hand for a handshake.
"A pleasure. I've been wanting to meet you, and here we are. I am Robert Peel. As of this year, I am the leader of our party."
No wonder he exuded the air of a seasoned politician, even if he didn't seem particularly charismatic.
The resourceful man who had established the Metropolitan Police Service as Home Secretary and succeeded the Duke of Wellington as leader of the Tory Party.
My reflection was clearly visible in the eyes of the titan who would one day become Prime Minister and repeal the infamous Corn Laws.
I took his hand and bowed respectfully.
"It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Peel. I have always deeply admired your work in revolutionizing London's public security."
It wasn't a lie.
Thanks to him creating the police force, I had been able to hire a large number of detectives and thief-takers who had been pushed out of the competition.
Unintentionally, of course, but he was practically a sponsor who had helped me build a solid team of operatives.
"I've heard about you as well. Realizing that it's my duty to create fertile ground for promising youths like yourself to flourish fills me with renewed vigor. I will continue to do my best, so I ask for your continued support."
"To know that you think so highly of the younger generation leaves a humble student like me at a loss for words."
As I exchanged pleasantries, I glanced at the elderly gentleman who was still observing me from beside the Duke of Wellington.
Anyone standing with titans like the Duke of Wellington and Robert Peel had to be influential. Was he also a Tory?
Just as I was wondering how to greet him, the Duke of Wellington thankfully made the introduction.
"Well, now that you've met our party leader, it's the governing party's turn, isn't it? You may not have met him, but you've surely heard of him. This is Charles Grey, leader of the Whig Party and the current Prime Minister. He was so keen to see you that he's been waiting here."
I had suspected as much, but so the Whigs were aware of my existence too.
I didn't know if it was since I started visiting Kensington Palace or even before, but I knew this was an inevitable step.
But to think the very first encounter would be with the sitting Prime Minister and leader of the ruling party.
This, I admit, was a bit unexpected.
"I-it is an honor to meet you, Prime Minister. My name is Killian Gore."
"Yes. A pleasure to meet you. I've heard a few things about you recently. My curiosity was piqued, so when the Duke of Wellington mentioned he was calling for you, I decided to wait."
The former Prime Minister and Tory leader, the Duke of Wellington; the current Tory leader, Robert Peel; and now the current Prime Minister and Whig leader, Charles Grey.
After dealing with a small fry like Conroy, suddenly being surrounded by a group of final bosses was making my head spin.
Still, I had been prepared for something like this, so despite my tense exterior, I wasn't actually that flustered.
Of course, on the outside, I was putting on a grand show of being overwhelmed with honor.
"I-I am truly honored that you would wish to meet a mere student like myself, Prime Minister. But may I ask for what reason…?"
"I hear you've been visiting Kensington Palace recently?"
At Charles Grey's words, the Duke of Wellington and Robert Peel shook their heads as if to say, 'I knew it.'
"Prime Minister, that is a private matter between the student and Princess Victoria."
"Precisely. Which is why I was merely curious, personally. But does that mean Your Grace is also unaware of why this student is regularly visiting the palace?"
"Of course. Even if I wrote him a letter of recommendation, I am not so idle as to receive reports on a student's every move."
"Then why not take this opportunity to hear it together? It's unlikely, of course, but it could become troublesome for Your Grace if the student you recommended were to have some sort of issue with the Princess, wouldn't it?"
It's all well and good for the current and former prime ministers to have a battle of wills, but what crime did I commit to be stuck in the middle?
Thinking about it calmly, Charles Grey must know he can't get the story out of me with such a blunt approach.
His reason for probing like this isn't to get a satisfactory answer.
He's clearly trying to analyze my reaction and the Duke of Wellington's.
"Um… If you're truly curious, I can tell you."
So I should add some poison to make things even more confusing.
Not just for the Whigs, but for the Tories as well.
"…Hmm?"
As expected, it was an unforeseen response. Charles Grey's eyes widened as he looked at me.
"Wait, Killian. If you're reluctant to speak, you don't have to force yourself. The Prime Minister is just being mischievous…"
The Duke of Wellington, now the flustered one, tried to stop me, but I had no intention of pleading the fifth if this question came up.
I had already coordinated my story with Victoria for just such an occasion. If they had any doubts, they were free to dig into it.
"It's alright, Your Grace. Considering the person I am meeting may one day become the queen of this nation, it is only natural for many to express their concern. It's not as if I've had any deep conversations with the Princess, so there's nothing to hide, even if I wanted to."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Yes. As the Princess is growing older, the Duchess of Kent wished to make some changes to her existing educational methods. So she sought a student of a similar age and caliber who could serve as a positive influence for the Princess."
"And that student was you. I heard the two of them spoke with you when they visited Eton. Were you selected then?"
"Yes. I was told that one of the reasons the Duchess came to Eton was to find a suitable student for the Princess."
Pairing a student with another of a similar level to increase learning efficiency is a method commonly used by noble families since ancient times.
It wouldn't be strange for the Duchess of Kent to use it, and considering her overbearing personality, it would even seem natural for her to go to Eton herself to find a suitable candidate.
"So you're saying you're just being called in to act as the Princess's study companion?"
"Yes. To be honest, studying with someone who might become the future queen is still nerve-wracking and burdensome. I often wonder if I truly belong in such a position. It feels like I'm sitting in a place far above my station, so I'm always on edge…"
A hint of shame born from honesty, with a spoonful of sorrow over my origins mixed in.
I can state with certainty that not a single person in this world would imagine a thirteen-year-old capable of faking such emotions on the spot.
Even I would likely be completely fooled if a young student put on such an act.
My young age is a weakness in most situations, but at times like these, it offers an almost invincible advantage.
Charles Grey gave a wry smile and, contrary to his intent, ended up offering me words of encouragement.
"To be chosen from among the many students of Eton is proof of your exceptional talent. Think of it not as a burden, but as an honor. If you continue to apply yourself, a great opportunity will surely come your way one day. You are still young and full of potential, so rather than be discouraged by differences in status, use those feelings as motivation to strive for even greater heights."
"Thank you for your invaluable advice. I will take it to heart and work even harder."
"Er… yes. It seems I've ended up encouraging you. That wasn't quite my intention."
He was absurdly easy to convince, but it wasn't just because of my age.
That was the biggest factor, of course, but even at my age, if I had hailed from a respectable English noble family, he would have been more suspicious.
But my case was different.
-Even so, is it really believable that someone who visits Kensington Palace regularly would have no personal interaction with Victoria?
-Princess Victoria has grown up without any friends and must be quite lonely; wouldn't it be easy for them to become friends naturally?
These logical questions are immediately refuted by the single fact of my status: a half-breed from Ireland.
No matter how much they praise my promising future on the surface, their instincts are ruled by the perfectly natural prejudice that the future queen would never truly connect with someone of my station.
The status shield really works wonders.
Charles Grey, having inadvertently become the cause of the somber mood, laughed awkwardly and subtly changed the subject.
"Enough of this gloomy talk. It looks like the debate is about to begin, shall we go watch? My school days are a distant memory now, but we should celebrate a splendid victory by our juniors. As you surely know, I am also an Eton graduate, which makes me your senior."
"Indeed, the fact that both the former and current Prime Ministers are my seniors has been reaffirming my decision to attend Eton."
"Hahaha, yes. Eton is truly the heart of the British Empire's talent pool. Wouldn't you agree, Your Grace?"
"I concur. They may try to force a rivalry between us, but there is a clear difference in class between the two schools."
The Duke of Wellington, who had been engaged in a war of nerves until now, readily nodded in agreement with Grey.
Political rivals are one thing, and fellow alumni another, I suppose. They seem to be in perfect sync.
"As His Grace says. To be honest, I find this commemoration debate a bit insulting to my pride. Having them debate side-by-side like this might give people the impression that Eton and Harrow are on the same level."
"Now that you mention it, that's true. But if we demonstrate a clear difference in intellect this time, everyone in the British Empire will realize they were never comparable to begin with."
As the two men joined forces to gleefully tear down Harrow, the expression on Robert Peel, who was listening beside them, grew increasingly stiff.
Come to think of it, our current party leader's alma mater is…
"…We'll have to see how it plays out."
"Ah, that's right. Our leader is a Harrow graduate, isn't he? Surely you're not suggesting that Harrow students could possibly defeat Eton students?"
"No, well… Yes, frankly, aren't the two schools quite similar? From my perspective, it looks like Harrow will win…"
"Hahaha! Your Grace, it seems the new leader of the Tory Party has an excellent sense of humor. In that regard, at least, the Whigs are no match for the Tories."
"He is younger than us, after all. Youth is often accompanied by a certain bravado, is it not?"
The former leader of the Tory Party ganging up with the current leader of the Whig Party to mock his own party's leader. What am I even watching?
Robert Peel couldn't bring himself to directly refute the political veterans who were twenty years his senior, but his expression made it clear he didn't agree at all.
It seemed like such a childish thing to do at their age, but perhaps people become even more childish about such trivial matters as they get older.
I never imagined I'd see the political titans who held the British Empire in their hands bickering over which school was better.
"One need only compare the output of Eton and Harrow to see the gap is…"
"That's within the margin of error. There have been plenty of years where Harrow's output was better."
"Sigh… Our leader is excellent in every way, but his only flaw is this tendency to be biased toward his own."
"In fact, Viscount Melbourne, who will succeed me when I step down, is also from Eton. That alone shows the difference between Eton and Harrow…"
Listening to the three men debate, having completely forgotten my presence, I gave a quiet bow and quickly backed away.
My plan to implant the impression of a naive and useful Irish student had been a success, so now I just wanted to catch my breath and rest.
I meant it.
* * *
"Student Killian Gore, is that you?"
"Yes, I am Killian Gore…"
But it seemed the heavens had no intention of granting me even a moment's rest.
Just as the debate began, another well-dressed, middle-aged gentleman approached me.
Who is it this time? A Tory? A Whig?
"You must come with me at once. There is someone waiting to meet you."
He had changed his clothes to conceal his identity, but his ingrained bearing was unmistakable.
He wasn't a member of the Tory or Whig parties.
Judging by his movements and gait, he was likely a royal official who had undergone rigorous training.
Moreover, with the debate just starting, no one was paying us any mind.
To choose this specific time clearly meant they didn't want our contact to be seen. If so, then it must be…
"Is the person waiting for me here in the Grand Hall?"
"No. I must ask you to accompany me to another wing, inconvenient as it may be."
As he spoke, the gentleman's gaze naturally drifted northward, and this time, even I couldn't help but feel a little tense.
In Buckingham Palace, where the king resided, how many people could invite someone to a space separate from the event area?
Especially if that space was in the North Wing, where the king's private quarters were located.
"I understand. Shall we go now?"
"Yes. Please follow me."
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. After the Prime Minister, is it the king of this country? My heart is pounding.
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