I already knew quite a bit about the Duchess of Kent.
Not just from historical records, but from the countless stories my Aunt Cecilia had told me.
The woman responsible for making Victoria's already sensitive adolescence even more difficult through suffocating overprotection disguised as strict education.
An ambitious mother who tried to ensure her daughter depended entirely on her so she could rule from behind the scenes as regent.
Hearing only that description, one might wonder what kind of terrible parent she was.
Yet the truth was more complicated.
The Duchess of Kent did love her daughter.
Originally from Germany, her English had never been fluent. The only person she had truly trusted in Britain was her husband.
Then he died only a year after Victoria was born.
After that, she had no one left to rely on.
At that moment John Conroy, one of the household officials, stepped forward.
The Duchess placed her trust in him and poured her entire life into raising her young daughter.
Over time, love became obsession.
Obsession eventually evolved into ambition.
A very ordinary story.
Cecilia had followed my advice and successfully exploited that weakness to win the Duchess's favor, so I knew her personality wasn't especially difficult to navigate.
"My aunt once told me how deeply knowledgeable Your Grace is in literature," I said. "I also enjoy literature, so I've always been curious about the methods you used when educating the princess. It's truly an honor to meet you today."
"Oh dear, it sounds as though she's polished my reputation far too brightly."
"My aunt is not someone who gives empty praise."
"Yes, she certainly is thoughtful and wise."
The Duchess then fell silent and simply observed me.
It seemed I had made a favorable first impression, but the evaluating look in her eyes hadn't disappeared.
Naturally.
I had never expected a few polite sentences to break through a lifetime of cultivated caution.
With people like her, rushing things only ruined everything.
You had to proceed slowly—over weeks or even months—gradually lowering their guard.
"By the way," I continued, "what did you think of the students' match earlier? Everyone played with exceptional effort once they heard that Your Grace and the princess would be watching."
"They certainly did run about energetically. It was refreshing to see such youthful enthusiasm. It seems the boys were quite excited about Victoria's visit."
"Of course. After all, it's an extraordinary honor to play before someone who may one day become Queen of Britain."
"You also played quite hard," the Duchess said. "Yet you never lost your composure. It gave the impression of a true gentleman."
So my efforts hadn't been wasted.
That brutal training session with my private coach hadn't been for nothing.
"Thank you for your generous assessment."
"I hear you're always first in your class. If you were to meet Victoria, what would you wish to speak about? If there's something you'd like to tell her, feel free."
"It may sound presumptuous," I said carefully, "but I wished to offer encouragement. Even as a mere student, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by my studies. Someone who may one day become the sovereign of this nation must surely bear far greater pressure. Still, with such a devoted mother as Your Grace, with Sir Conroy, and with my aunt as well, I doubt there is anything to fear. Even so, I hoped to convey that students like myself—and indeed all of Eton—support Your Grace and the princess with all our hearts. Though I cannot say whether I am truly worthy of speaking on behalf of the school."
"If you are the top student among the new boys, you certainly qualify to represent them," the Duchess replied. "Very well. A boy like you shouldn't influence Victoria poorly. Come with me."
She rose gracefully from her seat.
I followed quietly behind her.
Soon we entered the adjoining room, where Victoria sat conversing softly with her tutor, Baroness Lehzen.
"Forgive the delay," the Duchess said. "Victoria, as you heard earlier, this is Cecilia's nephew, Killian Gore. I spoke with him briefly and found him to be a thoughtful young man. I thought you might enjoy speaking with him. Shall we have tea together?"
"Of course," Victoria said with a graceful smile as she turned toward me. "If Mother thinks so highly of him, he must be an excellent student."
Truthfully, the Duchess of Kent's approval was usually a bad sign from Victoria's perspective.
But Cecilia was one of the few exceptions.
Which meant, as Cecilia's nephew, I likely still enjoyed some goodwill.
Still, I had to make the best possible impression here.
The problem was that Victoria wasn't alone.
Her mother remained present.
One careless move could cost me favor with both of them.
This was an incredible opportunity—but also a dangerous one.
The key was setting priorities.
The person I absolutely had to impress first was not Victoria.
It was her mother.
If I gained the Duchess's trust and secured permission to meet Victoria privately later, closing the distance between us would become easy.
At the same time, I couldn't afford to lose Victoria's favor either.
I needed to minimize losses while maximizing gains.
Not easy—but possible.
I had already considered every scenario.
"Thank you for granting me the honor of meeting you, Your Highness," I said, bowing politely. "Allow me to greet you on behalf of Eton's new students. My name is Killian Gore."
"It's a pleasure," Victoria replied. "I saw you during the cricket match earlier. Your composure was remarkable for a new student."
"Thank you. Since I thought there might be a chance to meet you today, I prepared a small performance. If it wouldn't be improper, may I show it?"
The Duchess nodded.
From my pocket I took out several cards.
"I heard that the late Duke of Kent supported Eton generously. Thanks to him, we students can study in such an excellent environment. I wanted to find some way to express our gratitude."
"That's a thoughtful sentiment," the Duchess said.
"And since Eton exists to train the future leaders of this country, I thought it fitting to express the values we hold most dear."
Magic tricks were fashionable these days among both commoners and nobles.
The Duchess would see this simply as entertainment.
I wasn't a professional magician, but card manipulation and gambling tricks overlapped enough that my performance would fool ordinary spectators.
Standing before the Duchess, I shuffled the cards and laid them face down.
With the cards she selected, I assembled a sentence.
It was a simple trick—memorizing the card order beforehand and subtly rearranging them.
Beginners could never tell.
But my real purpose wasn't entertainment.
While presenting the trick, I had deliberately seated the Duchess and Victoria on opposite sides of me—so each would see different words.
The Duchess read the phrase formed by her cards aloud.
"Obedience is the greatest virtue. Indeed, a fitting principle for Eton, the finest school in the Empire."
"…Hm?"
Victoria suddenly tilted her head as she examined her own cards.
"Is something wrong?" the Duchess asked.
"No. I received the same phrase. I just found it curious."
"Well, that's what makes it magic," the Duchess said with a chuckle.
While she laughed, I quickly gathered the cards back.
As Victoria handed hers over gracefully, our eyes met.
"That was quite an intriguing trick," she said with a smile. "And the phrase was memorable."
"Thank you."
It must have left an impression.
Because the words on her card had been completely different:
"Patience while waiting for one's time."
Surely she would understand that any sweet words I whispered to her mother weren't necessarily my true beliefs.
Unaware of any of this, the Duchess calmly sipped her tea and continued questioning me.
"I'm curious," she said. "Why does Eton emphasize obedience so strongly?"
"I believe it is to prevent us from falling into arrogance," I replied. "Most students here come from distinguished families or possess exceptional talent. It would be easy to believe oneself superior to everyone else."
"So obedience teaches them otherwise?"
"Yes. The higher a person's future position, the more important it is to learn humility early. Considering the power and influence they will someday wield, shouldn't those of noble status learn such virtues even more carefully?"
Just as intended, the Duchess's gaze shifted toward her daughter.
"Eton students truly think differently," she said proudly. "Isn't he absolutely right? That's exactly what I've always told you."
"You're right, Mother," Victoria replied calmly. "I didn't realize your lessons had such solid reasoning behind them."
"I've said before—it's not that I enjoy raising you so strictly. But as this student said, someone destined for greatness must learn obedience and humility from a young age. Everything I do is for your sake."
Victoria nodded silently.
The Duchess's smile became the brightest I had seen all day.
Naturally she was pleased.
Her greatest project in life was shaping Victoria into someone who would obey her absolutely.
That approach might have worked when Victoria was younger.
But now she was entering adolescence.
Of course resentment must be building inside her—even if she couldn't express it openly.
And now a brilliant student from Eton had just justified the Duchess's entire philosophy.
From her perspective, it must have felt like powerful reinforcement.
See? My methods are correct. Even Eton teaches this. My daughter will be greater than any of them—so she must be educated even more strictly.
If the King or other royals objected, then clearly they were the ones who were mistaken.
Her thoughts were practically audible.
Still, Victoria played along just enough.
Which meant my message had reached her.
I had only planned to avoid losing points—but this result was better than expected.
Though we hadn't spoken directly for long, I could clearly sense curiosity in the future queen's gaze.
* * *
After tea, the Duchess and Victoria prepared to leave Eton for their next engagement.
As I stepped forward to offer my farewell—
The Duchess sent Victoria into the carriage first.
Then she quietly approached me.
"You seemed quite perceptive earlier," she said. "If you have time, would you visit Kensington Palace next weekend? I'll send a carriage."
"…Kensington Palace?"
"Of course. You can visit your aunt and speak with me again. I'd like to hear more about how Eton students treat their teachers and seniors."
In other words: Tell me more about how to make my daughter obedient.
Fortunately, I had prepared for exactly this.
"It would be an honor. I will gladly share whatever knowledge I possess."
"Good. I look forward to next week."
She waved gently and entered the carriage.
I bowed politely as it rolled away.
At last, I had reached the foot of the mountain I needed to climb.
Now it was time to earn the right to climb it.
To move freely within a place like Kensington Palace, sweet words alone wouldn't suffice.
Winning the trust of someone as cautious as the Duchess required more than promises of success.
In fact, filling someone only with optimism often accomplished little.
Instead, I needed to create a subtle anxiety.
A sense that without me, the plan itself might fail.
From this point on, I would stop painting a rosy future—
And begin introducing the possibility of danger.