"Your Grace," I said calmly, "I consider myself a fairly perceptive person. To be honest, that instinct is what allowed me to survive in a distant land in the Far East—and what helped me carve out a small place for myself in this country as well."
"That is more than mere instinct," the Duchess of Kent replied. "It requires intelligence to support it. So then—what exactly do you find dangerous about my situation?"
"Of course, I'll explain."
Before anything else, I made it clear that I had heard very little from Cecilia regarding the Duchess's relationship with Victoria.
The only things my aunt had mentioned were how wise and thoughtful the Duchess was.
It would be troublesome if the Duchess suspected Cecilia of gossiping carelessly.
"When I saw Your Grace and the princess at Eton, I sensed a faint discomfort in the princess's gaze, gestures, and tone. It felt… as though she were concealing dissatisfaction, yet unable to hide it entirely."
"You could see it?"
"Yes. Though it isn't strange at all. The princess is human, after all. No one escapes the natural stages of growth. Both boys and girls reach an age when they become extremely sensitive and irritable. I do not presume to compare myself with her, but even I sometimes feel a sudden surge of resistance when teachers or seniors lecture me."
"She is indeed at that age," the Duchess said. "But she still obeys me well. I have not felt that anything is truly wrong."
"For now, perhaps. But… have you considered what might happen if the princess were to become queen during this period?"
I lowered my voice.
To hear better, the Duchess leaned slightly toward me.
"My daughter inheriting the throne after His Majesty would be the greatest thing I could hope for," she said carefully. "Of course… well, perhaps I should not say more."
She had almost said the sooner the better.
Naturally, an earlier accession would mean a longer regency.
That was the dream she had been pursuing for years.
But there was a flaw in that dream.
"If the princess were younger, it would not be a problem," I continued. "But now she is beginning to form her own perspective on the world. I say this because the same thing happens at Eton."
"I suppose the students there begin their education during adolescence as well."
"Exactly. Which is why, as someone of a similar age, I can imagine what kinds of influences might affect the princess."
The Duchess lifted her teacup with a graceful motion.
A silent signal for me to continue.
"When teaching obedience to authority, the most important rule is to avoid granting students a position that contradicts that lesson. At an age when they are becoming aware of their social standing, young people are extremely influenced by their environment."
"In other words," the Duchess said slowly, "if Victoria were to inherit the throne now, everything I have taught her might collapse?"
"Yes. I do not believe the princess would suddenly become arrogant or disrespect you. But even if you serve as regent, could you truly control every noble and royal who approaches her?"
"I am her mother and guardian. Why would that be impossible?"
"It would be very difficult. Once she becomes queen, she must attend countless official events. At those gatherings she will inevitably meet people from all levels of society. It is impossible to silence them all."
Even as regent, the Duchess might control the machinery of the royal household.
But the face of the British Empire would still be the monarch.
At banquets, religious services, and public ceremonies, the queen herself would appear.
And countless nobles and bishops would surround her.
"How could anyone fully control that?" I asked quietly.
"With continued exposure to those people, the princess will gradually realize that she is the true representative of the nation."
I did not need to say the rest.
Once Victoria became an adult—
The Duchess would simply become a figure pushed quietly aside.
And Victoria's majority was only four years away.
Even if the throne passed to her soon, the Duchess could only govern during the legal six-year regency period.
"Surely not," the Duchess said stiffly. "After everything I have done to educate her, she would not cast me aside the moment the regency ends."
"Not immediately," I said gently. "But the influence accumulating around her between accession and adulthood could be extremely powerful."
"…."
"At Eton, we sometimes see students inherit their fathers' titles while still studying. Their personalities change noticeably before and after."
The concrete example made the Duchess's smile stiffen.
It happened often in situations like this.
People became so fixated on achieving their goal that they never examined what came afterward.
That was precisely the Duchess's problem.
Her plan was simple.
Victoria would become queen.
The Duchess would rule as regent.
And since Victoria depended entirely on her—and on Sir John Conroy—they would control the government.
On the surface, it sounded plausible.
In reality, it was deeply flawed.
Even if the regency worked—
What would happen after Victoria became an adult?
The Duchess clearly believed the Kensington System would keep her daughter dependent forever.
But that was impossible.
How could a mother misunderstand her daughter's personality so completely?
Perhaps the answer was simple.
Her ambition had clouded her judgment.
"…You may be right," the Duchess admitted quietly. "When Victoria was younger, it mattered less. But as she grows older… my perspective should have changed."
"And that scenario assumes the princess inherits the throne soon," I added. "The greater problem lies elsewhere."
"There is something worse than this?"
"Have you considered the possibility that His Majesty might remain healthy until the princess reaches adulthood?"
For the first time, the Duchess's expression hardened.
It was the worst possibility she could imagine.
If Victoria became queen as an adult—
Everything the Duchess had worked toward might collapse.
I found that astonishing.
She had devoted her entire life to this goal.
Yet she had never prepared for the worst outcome.
No wonder history recorded that Victoria eliminated her mother's influence the moment she became queen.
"Then I must ensure she is educated so that even after adulthood she remains—"
"When the princess reaches adulthood, the Kensington System loses its legal authority," I said gently. "At that point, you will no longer have the right to control her."
"…Then I must educate her more thoroughly before that day arrives. But wait—if young people are so easily influenced by their surroundings, how does Eton ensure students obey their seniors?"
"Because the environment itself reinforces that behavior. When everyone around them follows the same rules, students naturally accept them."
The Duchess blinked.
Then a quiet realization escaped her lips.
"I see… influence can work both ways."
"Yes. Peer relationships matter greatly. And relationships with the opposite sex are even more delicate."
"Then perhaps Victoria should be cautious of you as well?"
Her teasing remark made me smile bitterly.
"If I were someone the princess might consider romantically, perhaps."
"A handsome and intelligent boy like you would surely be attractive. Why doubt yourself?"
"In our society, those qualities alone are rarely enough."
The Duchess was not foolish.
She immediately understood the meaning behind my words.
Her voice softened.
"You are still young. You need not define your limits so early. Who knows? Perhaps when Victoria's era arrives, the distinction between Irish and English nobles may fade."
It was a touching sentiment.
If only she didn't sound so certain it would never actually happen.
In any case, her guard had now completely dropped.
She fell silent, deep in thought.
I had cast enough bait.
Now it was simply a matter of waiting.
After a moment, she spoke quietly.
"Killian, if you are giving me such frank advice, then surely you want something in return."
"What? No, I merely—"
"It's alright," she interrupted with a faint smile. "If you had no desires at all, your help would seem far more suspicious. I suspect you possess a certain ambition—unlike your aunt. Do not worry. I do not dislike ambition."
"…You are very perceptive."
The Duchess nodded.
"So, tell me what you want."
"I wish to enter the British House of Lords," I said. "Not merely as an Irish noble—but as an English peer."
An Irish earldom did not grant a seat in Parliament.
But an English peerage would automatically provide one.
The Duchess poured herself another cup of tea, looking pleased.
"So that is your desire. Then we have even more reason to cooperate. Creating a new title requires the king's approval—you know that, of course. I promise you this: if you assist me well, the moment I become regent, I will grant you a suitable title."
"What must I do?"
"Meet with Victoria often. Discover what she is thinking. And remind her that those who approach her now are merely opportunists seeking power. If someone her own age says these things, she will trust them more."
What a disturbing educational philosophy for a mother.
I almost felt pity for Victoria.
"Understood. Should I begin visiting the palace regularly next week?"
"Why wait until next week?" the Duchess said lightly. "Speak with her today. Tell me how she reacts. I wish to discuss the matter with Sir Conroy afterward."
"You mean… right now?"
"Of course. She should have finished her classical lessons by now. Go upstairs."
She gestured to a servant in the distance.
The meaning was obvious: guide him.
But I noticed the subtle signal she gave as well.
Naturally.
Why would she allow a private meeting with Victoria immediately?
Even if I were the Duchess, I would place someone nearby to observe.
Honestly, if she hadn't done so, I would have been more suspicious.
But once you know surveillance exists—
There are always ways to handle it.
Feigning nervousness at the prospect of meeting the princess alone, I followed the servant toward the staircase.
Just before climbing it, I glanced back.
The Duchess happened to be looking at me.
She smiled warmly and nodded.
I bowed deeply in return.
My apologies, Duchess.
I do intend to receive an English title someday…
But if possible, I would rather receive it from the real queen, not the regent.