The entire ride back from Buckingham passed in silence.
I said nothing.
James, who had been watching me carefully the whole time, finally spoke.
"Young master… no, my lord. Did something go wrong?"
"Depends on how you look at it."
"It's not about the title, I assume. It must be the ministerial appointment."
"Exactly. Those bastards took a massive dump and now they want me to clean it up for them."
James grimaced.
"That must have felt unpleasant."
Unpleasant was putting it mildly.
I had always expected that one day I would have to go to Asia.
As long as the British Empire continued pursuing expansion, conflict with Asian powers was inevitable. And eventually Britain would have to compete with countries like France and Russia for influence there.
When that time came, my existence alone would be a major strategic advantage.
The higher my position rose, the more Asian nations would look at Britain differently.
But the timing right now was terrible.
Relations between Qing China and Britain had already passed the point where diplomacy could easily fix things.
Perhaps five years ago there might have been a chance.
But by 1838, with events unfolding exactly as they had in history, war had become unavoidable.
Opium itself wasn't the fundamental cause.
It was merely the spark.
The deeper forces driving the conflict had already been set in motion long before.
Which meant Robert Peel didn't actually expect me to restore relations with China.
What he wanted was an excuse.
Look, we even appointed someone of Asian origin to handle negotiations. We tried our best, but those barbaric Chinese refused to talk.
Something like that.
And while he was at it, he probably wanted to rein in my rising influence.
At the end of our conversation I had sounded confident enough to make him hesitate, but he still wouldn't trust me completely.
Truthfully, I had no intention of solving this problem peacefully either.
Not only was it impossible—
I also had no desire to throw myself into an unwinnable task.
"James," I said, leaning back slightly, "what do you think? With all the information coming in from the detective agency and the businesses we run, you must have heard plenty. Do you think Britain will go to war with Qing?"
James considered for a moment.
"Two years ago—and even last year—the dominant opinion was that war was unlikely. But since Qing began completely banning opium and confiscating shipments, more people are starting to argue that war may be necessary to reopen trade."
"And who's pushing that argument?"
"The senior figures of the East India Company, mostly. Even though they lost their monopoly on Asian trade, the company still dominates opium production. With prices collapsing at the Calcutta auctions, they must be staring at enormous losses."
From a third-party perspective, it looked like a drug dealer throwing a tantrum after getting caught.
But merchants didn't see it that way.
All they saw was money disappearing.
After the East India Company's trade monopoly ended in 1834, countless private traders jumped into the opium trade.
Yet most of the opium they sold still came from Company production in India.
In other words—
The Company and independent smugglers had formed a symbiotic relationship.
Now Qing had started crushing the trade.
Which meant the Company's auctions in India were piling up unsold stock.
Losses were mounting rapidly.
"So they must be lobbying Parliament hard."
"Yes. Once your appointment as minister is announced, they'll probably come knocking immediately."
"Not minister," I corrected. "Minister. I told the Prime Minister I wouldn't take the job unless I had that level of authority."
James nearly choked.
"Minister? Even Under-Secretary would have been unprecedented. Has Britain ever had a teenage cabinet minister?"
"Of course not."
There had never been a teenage under-secretary either.
And there likely never would be again.
"I need the title," I said calmly. "Otherwise people will just dismiss me as a kid."
"But the Foreign Secretary is responsible for the entire diplomatic policy of the Empire. If you asked for that position, it means you have a plan for dealing with the situation."
"I have something in mind."
I paused before continuing.
"First, quietly identify some reliable people. Then find out whether there are any opium companies we can acquire in name only. There should be plenty of traders trying to shut down their operations right now. We can buy the company names cheaply."
James nodded immediately.
"You want to disguise our personnel as opium traders."
"Exactly."
"I'll arrange it."
Since I had come of age, James had formally separated from the Arran household.
Even so, it had been less than a year.
So whenever he handled matters related to me, he used the names of other companies to avoid suspicion.
Especially for something like this.
A plan that could easily escalate into a diplomatic crisis required even greater caution.
"And gather information on the East India Company leadership," I continued. "The directors in London, the managers stationed abroad—everyone. And if there are any major private merchants deeply involved in the opium trade, investigate them as well."
"We already have detailed files on the Company leadership," James replied. "I'll look further into the overseas figures and report back."
The reason this crisis had only worsened so far was simple.
Too many interests were tangled together.
Parliament.
The East India Company.
Private merchants.
And Qing China.
None of them wanted to take a loss.
So compromise had been impossible.
But the world didn't work that way.
If someone gained—
Someone else had to lose.
A world where everyone was happy simply didn't exist.
And if someone had to take the loss…
It should be the people who offered me no benefit.
The East India Company had once monopolized trade with India and still exerted enormous influence over the subcontinent.
John Locke, chairman of the Company's board of directors, was struggling to contain his disbelief.
"Foreign Secretary? I thought Under-Secretary was ridiculous enough. Now an eighteen-year-old brat is running Britain's foreign policy? Has this country finally gone mad?"
"It's technically a temporary appointment," his aide said.
"Temporary or not, minister is minister. The top position in the Foreign Office being handed to a child—this is absurd."
In Britain there were fewer than twenty positions equivalent to cabinet rank.
Even counting the Prime Minister, parliamentary speakers, and other high offices.
Locke maintained extensive intelligence networks inside Parliament.
When he first heard that an eighteen-year-old might become Under-Secretary, he thought it must be a rumor.
Still, he had assumed it was a sacrificial appointment.
A convenient scapegoat.
But the announcement he read that morning went far beyond that.
Killian Gore, Earl of Arran, appointed Foreign Secretary to resolve diplomatic disputes with Qing China.
"…Why am I learning about this from a newspaper?" Locke snapped. "They said Under-Secretary! We've poured money into Westminster for years and this is how they treat us?"
"The Prime Minister changed course at the last minute. The previous candidate for Foreign Secretary was reassigned to the Attorney General's position."
Locke frowned.
"Who exactly is this Earl of Arran?"
"An Irish aristocrat from a powerful family. And the scholar who wrote the paper proving comparative advantage during the Corn Law debates—that was him."
Locke remembered.
There had been quite a stir when a young student had mathematically proven Ricardo's theory.
"So the Prime Minister is backing him because he's that capable?"
"There's more. He was recently adopted by the Duchess of Inverness, wife of the Duke of Sussex. Parliament unanimously recommended granting him a new English title—Baron Sudeley—and the Queen approved."
Locke leaned back slowly.
An Irish aristocrat.
A member of the House of Lords.
Adopted into the royal family.
Supported by the Duke of Wellington's circle.
The picture forming in his mind was… troubling.
"Still," Locke muttered, "even with that background, appointing him Foreign Secretary seems excessive."
"There's one more detail. Killian Gore is of Asian descent. He spent part of his childhood there. The Prime Minister likely believes that cultural familiarity will help."
Locke blinked.
"An Asian noble in the House of Lords?"
"What should we do?"
Locke stood immediately.
"What should we do? The new Foreign Secretary says he'll solve the opium crisis. Of course I'm going to meet him."
He grabbed his coat.
"The gifts are ready, I assume?"
"Yes. But they were prepared when we thought he would be Under-Secretary."
"Then add cash… no, gold bars."
Locke had never met a politician who disliked gold.
The East India Company had long offered such "tokens of appreciation" to newly appointed officials.
Not simply as bribes.
But as tests.
A man's reaction to a gift revealed his character.
He's only eighteen, Locke thought confidently.
Flatter him a little and he'll fold easily.
Perhaps this was even an opportunity.
If Killian Gore could be controlled…
The East India Company might regain the influence it had been losing for years.
Locke's instincts—sharpened by decades in the trade—told him this chance could not be wasted.
Just as James predicted, the moment my appointment as Foreign Secretary was announced, invitations flooded in.
It felt as if my estate had suddenly become a Michelin three-star restaurant.
Everyone wanted a reservation.
My first duty as minister quickly became sorting through the crowd.
Choosing who was worth meeting.
The first person I agreed to see—
The man who arrived at the very front of the line—
Was none other than John Locke, chairman of the East India Company.
Since most of the opium sold in China originated from the Company, coordinating with them was unavoidable.
He bowed politely.
"Minister, it's an honor. I'm John Locke, representing the board of the East India Company. I look forward to working with you."
I had wondered how he would treat a minister so much younger than himself.
But decades in the industry had clearly taught him humility.
"The pleasure is mine," I replied. "I was planning to contact the Company myself. Your visit saves me the trouble."
"You're too kind. Frankly, we've been struggling with the situation in China. It's reassuring to hear that the government will prioritize resolving the issue."
"I'll do everything I can," I said smoothly. "Our merchants cannot continue suffering under Qing's obstruction."
Locke leaned forward slightly.
"So the government intends to restore the opium trade?"
Even now, opium merchants were pouring money into Westminster and Downing Street.
But public opinion still resisted war.
Even Britain hesitated to provoke the enormous Qing Empire.
At least for now.
So when I spoke next—
My voice sounded sweeter than honey.
"The government cannot allow the trade deficit with China to keep growing. That's precisely why someone as young as me has been given such a position."
Locke's smile widened.
"I also heard you spent part of your childhood in Asia."
"Yes," I replied calmly. "I understand how Asians think."
"Excellent! As the saying goes—know your enemy and know yourself."
He leaned in eagerly.
"How can we assist you?"
"We need accurate data," I said.
"How much opium is currently produced. How much has already been shipped. And how much loss merchants have suffered. Without precise numbers, negotiations with Qing will be impossible."
Locke nodded.
"We'll gather everything before you depart."
"Thank you," I said.
"Men like you are true patriots."
Locke smiled proudly.
"Oh, I also brought a small gift…"
I laughed lightly.
"Let's save that for after the job is finished. When I return, you can show your appreciation properly."
I had no intention of accepting bribes.
Besides—
A few gold bars were hardly worth the trouble.
But Locke misunderstood my meaning completely.
His grin widened.
"Of course! I'll make sure it's several times more generous when you return."
"Much appreciated."
Honestly, he didn't need to feel guilty.
I intended to take far more from the opium merchants in other ways.
Because once I reached Canton, I planned to deal with both problems at once.
War would be handled.
The opium trade would be cleaned up.
And when that happened—
Fame and money would come to me from both directions.
Britain would also avoid the stain of launching one of the most infamous wars in history.
So really—
The East India Company should be honored.
After all—
If someone had to be sacrificed…
Why not them?