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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: An Irish Nobleman
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So, you said he was a British nobleman?
As I disembarked from the ship, the elegant silhouette of the Palace of Westminster, soaring in the distance, came into view.
If one were to name the most famous parliament building in the world, this one would undoubtedly be at the top of the list.
It was a historic place, once a royal palace, now functioning solely as the seat of Parliament.
It looked subtly different from what I remembered seeing on my trip to London in my past life, and I suddenly recalled what a guide had explained.
Right, it had burned down in the 19th century and was rebuilt.
Did that mean the building I was looking at now was the real Palace of Westminster, before the fire?
The thought alone made my heart swell with awe.
According to what I'd heard before, the southern part of the building would be the House of Lords, and the northern part, the House of Commons.
And just to the west of the building stood Westminster Abbey, famed as a royal church.
But what was most striking was the gaping emptiness where a landmark symbolizing both London and the Houses of Parliament should have been.
The clock tower, commonly known as Big Ben, was missing.
The reason was simple.
The clock tower was a new addition, designed during the reconstruction after the Palace of Westminster burned down.
Seeing that empty space, so different from my memories, made it sink in that I was truly breathing the air of the British Empire in the 1830s.
"I see you've also taken notice of that building, Young Master. I expected as much. As I mentioned on our way here, the British Empire is different from the nations of Asia. We elect members of parliament to represent the will of the citizens. Those without noble titles who are elected through this process lead the politics of the British Empire in the House of Commons."
"And those with noble titles gather in the House of Lords to oversee the affairs of state. They hold even greater authority than the House of Commons, as they have the right to reject laws made by it. That Palace of Westminster is where both the House of Commons and the House of Lords are located. A session is likely in full swing inside even as we speak."
"Wow. It's so different from Joseon! The British Empire is truly amazing. The most advanced country in the world!"
I knew most of this already, but in this situation, I had to react with the fervent enthusiasm of an uncivilized man tasting advanced culture for the first time.
The British nobility would surely take immense pride in their superior system.
"Well… that's true. It's an objective fact that we are an advanced nation. You will likely learn a great deal during your time here, Young Master."
Huh, his reaction was a bit lukewarm. Was his patriotism weaker than I thought?
In any case, it meant that I was about to step inside that very Palace of Westminster.
The thought of entering a place I couldn't even visit in my previous life made me want to dance with excitement.
The man who was my father was an Earl, so he must be a member of the House of Lords.
Though the power of the House of Lords would weaken around the 20th century and it would become a largely symbolic institution in modern times, this was the early to mid-19th century.
It was the tail end of their era, but the power and influence of the nobility were still very much alive, allowing them to wield formidable authority.
In the modern era, people would question why those who inherited their status by blood had the right to veto and demand amendments to laws made by the people's representatives, but back then, it was the opposite.
It was a time when exercising a veto or even demanding legislative amendments was considered the natural right of the House of Lords.
It even possessed the function to act as the final court of appeal in certain legal cases.
With such a powerful man as my father, all that was left was to walk a smooth path… or so I thought. Why did the carriage seem to be heading away from Westminster?
It wasn't just a feeling. A quick glance outside confirmed that the carriage was indeed speeding away from the Palace of Westminster.
I wondered if there had been some mistake, but judging by James's expression, that didn't seem to be the case.
He had just said a session was likely underway in the palace. Perhaps he was only referring to the House of Commons?
It made sense. Since they met in different chambers and had different roles, there was no reason for them to convene on the same day at the same time.
Unable to think of any other possibility, I leaned back quietly in my seat and waited for the carriage to reach its destination.
After all, I was just a ten-year-old boy. I wasn't even old enough for secondary education, so I had time to spare.
All I had to do was slowly acclimate to 19th-century Britain and set the stage to ensure I would inherit my father's title.
I, a lowly slave from Joseon, had woken up to find myself a member of the British House of Lords?
To write such a rags-to-riches story, first things first.
"James, it would be best for me to greet my father in my own words first, wouldn't it?"
"Of course. You've practiced so hard; the Earl will be very pleased."
The first step was to get the man called Father firmly on my side.
Throughout history and across cultures, most parents find their own children lovely.
And what if that child was so brilliant that you wanted to boast about them to the entire world?
Any further explanation would be redundant.
* * *
"Hello, Father. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, my! You can speak English! James, the boy greeted me in our tongue!"
"The Young Master insisted on greeting you himself, my lord, and studied diligently. He is a very quick learner and can already understand simple sentences."
"Is that so? Growing up in a corner of East Asia, he couldn't have even heard our language, yet he already has such comprehension? It seems the boy is a genius. And he takes right after me, so handsome! Hahaha, James, you've done wonderfully. I should have come to the port to meet him myself, but my schedule was completely packed until just now."
Unless the Earl had undergone a shocking transformation for the worse with age, I really didn't think our faces resembled each other.
Still, genetics are a curious thing. Though there wasn't a single similar feature, when you put us side by side, you got the feeling that we might be father and son.
Was this the amazing and mysterious power of genes?
The Earl, his eyes moist with emotion, couldn't seem to contain himself, turning my face this way and that, hugging me a few times.
I could roughly guess his feelings.
He was well past what could be called middle age and was now old enough to be called an old man. How could he not dote on the young son he was seeing for the first time?
"My boy, I am your father. Had I known you were alive, I would have sent for you at once. I can only say that I am sorry."
"Thank you, Father. I'm so happy you brought me here."
I spoke with the most accurate pronunciation I could manage, yet with a slight awkwardness that showed I had practiced hard.
As I bowed my head, looking every bit the bright, intelligent child, the Earl's already softened face melted into a delighted smile.
"Yes, yes. From now on, you have nothing to worry about. Live here in comfort. Ah, where is my mind? James, have you told my son his name?"
"Did you not tell me to say nothing, as you wished to tell him yourself, my lord?"
"Right, right. My son, this father of yours is Earl Arthur Gore. And from now on, you are my son, Killian Gore. If anyone here says anything untoward to you, pay them no mind. You are my only flesh and blood."
"Yes! I will study hard here and become a fine son who repays your kindness, Father."
So that's why James wouldn't tell me what name I'd be using in England.
Killian Gore.
From Yun Seon-woo in my past life to the Joseon slave Yuseok, this was the third identity I had received.
And my circumstances were incomparably superior to my previous two lives as an orphan.
Things were going so smoothly it was almost suspicious, but I'd had enough bad luck until now. Perhaps it was time for my fortunes to turn.
Honestly, if a person only ever had bad luck, how could they bear to live?
Everyone deserves to be born with a silver spoon in their mouth at least once to feel that life is beautiful.
"Now then, my son, you must be tired from your long journey, so rest well today. Take the rest of this week off as well. We can start your difficult studies next week."
"Thank you. But I haven't received any basic education, so I'm very far behind. I want to start learning as soon as possible. Isn't that how I can grow up to be a fine nobleman like you, Father?"
"What a thoughtful child. Yes, yes. You want to become a fine nobleman like your father?"
"Yes. James told me that the noblemen of this country work for the nation in a magnificent palace called Westminster. When I grow up, I want to work there for the people of this country, too."
"Ah… Westminster. The House of Lords."
Earl Aaron, who had been beaming just a moment ago, let out a faint, bitter smile at the mention of the House of Lords.
Did I give him the impression that a young boy was already greedy for power?
I thought I had phrased it from a thoroughly childlike perspective to avoid that.
"Ah… um, James. You didn't tell him?"
"The Young Master has just arrived from Joseon, my lord. He knows nothing of this country's political system. I thought explaining such complex relationships would only confuse him, so I planned to explain it slowly later on."
"Right. You have a point… hmm. How should I explain this?"
What was this? Could it be that Earl Aaron wasn't a member of the House of Lords?
If that was the case, James's earlier reaction and the Earl's current one made a certain amount of sense.
But how could a nobleman with the title of Earl not have a seat in the House of Lords?
From what I vaguely remembered studying long ago, titled peers of 19th-century Britain were automatically granted a seat in the House of Lords.
The Earl, looking at my face as I waited patiently for an explanation, scratched his head and spoke again.
"Just as you said, my son, the noblemen of this country decide the affairs of state in the Palace of Westminster. However, while I am a nobleman, I am an Irish nobleman, not an English one, so I cannot attend the House of Lords."
"An Irish nobleman?"
"Er… yes. Since you've only just begun learning English, it will be difficult to understand, but I'll tell you anyway. You can ask James to explain more later. This British Empire is a United Kingdom formed by four countries: England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. Of these, Scotland and our Ireland joined the union a bit later, and due to various circumstances, only a few representative peers from these two kingdoms are allowed to enter the Palace of Westminster."
"Ah… I don't understand everything, but I think I get the gist of it."
"Still, our family is one of the most distinguished in Ireland, so by the time you succeed me, you might be chosen as a new representative. There are twenty-eight Irish representative peers in total, and when one dies, a new one is elected from among the nobility. It's a bit complicated, so you might not understand it now, but you'll learn all about it in time."
I had a feeling my life was going too smoothly. So there was a catch after all.
This wasn't a silver spoon; it was a gilded one.
Well, when I thought about it, I had no one to blame but my own foolish self.
Just hearing the word "nobleman," what made me indulge in the wishful thinking that my father was an English peer?
The possibility of him being a Scottish or Irish nobleman was always there. Had I still not shed my optimistic nature?
I must have been so overjoyed at escaping my life as a Joseon slave that my head was filled with flowers.
Anyway, Ireland…
Not being a member of the British House of Lords was one thing.
Our family seemed to be quite wealthy, and an Irish nobleman was still a nobleman, so I had no complaints.
As for a seat, I could just win an election later and enter the House of Commons, or receive a British peerage and enter the House of Lords.
In fact, the knowledge that there was still so much room to climb stimulated my ambition, so it wasn't all bad.
However.
It was called a United Kingdom, but it was a fact that in the early 19th century, Ireland was the victim of all sorts of discriminatory policies within the British Empire.
After Joseon, now Ireland. It seemed I was fated to be an underdog.
It wasn't the cushy life I had initially expected, but strangely, I felt more at ease.
"Yes, Father. I don't understand it all, but I'll study hard and become a fine representative of Ireland. I will build a country where the people of Ireland can live happily."
"What? Hahaha! Who does my son take after to speak so beautifully? Ah, he's my son, so he must take after me."
Being an Irish nobleman of mixed Joseon heritage might act as a shackle with no advantages for now, but whining about difficulties was something a third-rate person would do.
A truly first-rate person had to be able to smile while using those shackles to smash the skulls of all their competitors on their way up.
Fortunately for me, I possessed at least two absolute advantages that no one in this era could hope to match.
So perhaps the term "underdog" was, strictly speaking, incorrect.
No matter that I was born with the chaotic combo platter of an illegitimate, mixed-blood nobleman.
In a society where capitalism was just beginning to burgeon, I was someone who could not be weak.