After concluding my negotiations with Dawrays, I returned to London in considerably lighter spirits.
I had personally inspected the gift I had prepared in advance and brought it back with me. All that remained was to find the right moment to present it.
Even though Victoria was effectively the heir to the throne, she was not yet queen. Because of that, the birthday celebration was originally meant to be a small gathering with only close acquaintances. I expected it to be quiet—an evening of polite conversation before everyone returned home.
But things began to develop in a rather unexpected direction.
"Lord Killian, you've returned at last. I've been stopping by every day wondering when you might come back."
No sooner had I returned to my London residence than a palace attendant arrived from Buckingham Palace. He let out a sigh of relief and handed me an invitation.
"This is a royal invitation requesting your attendance at Her Royal Highness's birthday celebration."
"Thank you. Though if I remember correctly, I already received one earlier."
"The venue has changed. It will now be held at Buckingham Palace."
That was odd. It had been decided that the celebration would be a modest gathering at Kensington Palace. Apparently something had changed again.
I opened the invitation and quickly guessed the reason.
"His Majesty intends to host it personally, I see. The scale of the event must have grown."
"Yes. His Majesty is advanced in years now, and he wished to personally celebrate the day when the heir to the throne reaches adulthood. He mentioned that he doesn't know how many more opportunities he'll have to preside over such occasions."
"I understand. I can appreciate His Majesty's feelings. I will prepare properly and attend on the appointed date."
So the king had finally decided to go all in.
Once Victoria reached adulthood, the Kensington System would lose all authority. That meant the Duchess would no longer be able to restrict contact between the king and Victoria. It wasn't surprising that the king wanted to celebrate his victory rather enthusiastically.
From William IV's perspective, this was a moment he had waited more than ten years for. Of course he would feel relieved.
If I were in his position, I would probably be enjoying myself too—imagining all the ways I could irritate the Duchess the most.
Still, there was one potential problem.
If the event became too large, I might attract more attention than I wanted.
"May I ask roughly how many people have been invited to this event? Since His Majesty is hosting it personally, I imagine the gathering will be quite large."
"Yes. Most nobles with close ties to the royal family have been invited. A number of prominent politicians from both the government and the opposition are also on the guest list."
"I thought as much. Thank you for letting me know."
At the Christmas event, Victoria hadn't been the central figure, so the attention had been relatively mild.
This time, however, she was unquestionably the star of the evening.
If I appeared too close to her, it might attract enormous attention. But if I kept my distance, Victoria might genuinely become angry.
A difficult balance.
Of course, while I complained internally, I had already made my decision long ago.
I had spent a considerable amount of money and effort preparing her birthday gift. Backing down now would be ridiculous.
If lightning was going to strike me whether I advanced or retreated, then the best option was simply to delay the moment as much as possible—and install a lightning rod in the meantime.
Even without openly expressing affection, I still had plenty of ways to please Victoria.
And since the timing was perfect, perhaps it was finally time to open the bundle of gifts I had been preparing.
May 24, 1837
The Grand Hall of Buckingham Palace was filled with lively applause and cheerful congratulations—a sharp contrast to the gloomy atmosphere of the ongoing economic downturn.
The world outside might have been struggling, but that was precisely why so many hopes were being placed on Victoria, the future sovereign of the nation.
Of course, no one present believed a monarch could directly control politics to such an extent.
But even so, the crown remained a powerful symbol—something capable of binding the nation together.
That alone was enough for the monarch to serve as a symbol of hope.
In the distance, William IV stood beside Victoria, raising his glass with a radiant smile, as if he possessed the entire world.
"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests. Today we gather here to celebrate the future that lies ahead. My beloved niece and heir, Princess Victoria, now stands on the threshold of adulthood. It fills me with great emotion to witness this moment.
I have no doubt that she will continue to embody the virtues of love, kindness, and wisdom as she prepares to succeed me.
Victoria, I hope that you will accept the responsibilities and opportunities that come with high station not as burdens, but as joys. May you always place love for your people and devotion to your country above all else."
Victoria, her cheeks slightly flushed, nodded with a bright smile.
William raised his glass high.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let us toast the health and happiness of the future leader who has now come of age. Victoria, may your future—and the future of this nation—be filled with brilliance and joy. Happy birthday!"
"Happy birthday!"
"To Her Royal Highness!"
"Thank you! Thank you, everyone! I will study harder and work even harder!"
Perhaps it was the realization that true freedom was finally within reach.
Victoria, far more excited than usual, moved about the hall offering her thanks to everyone around her.
As I watched from a short distance away, a deep sigh sounded beside me.
"She looks like a fish that's finally been released back into water."
"Sir John, you might want to control your expression. Someone could easily take offense on such a celebratory occasion."
"Hmph. Everyone's busy flattering the king and the princess. Who would bother looking over here?"
The man beside me was John Conroy.
He had once burned with ambition—to place young Victoria on the throne and rule Buckingham Palace from the shadows.
Now he was witnessing his plans crumble in real time.
"So what do you intend to do now?" I asked.
He sighed again.
"Well… what should I do? Now that Victoria has come of age, the decision lies with her. If she declares she has no need for a regent, then the Duchess and I will have no place left at court."
"That's true."
If he accepted defeat gracefully and withdrew, things might not become too ugly.
But I knew John Conroy better than that.
A man who had spent years dreaming of wielding power behind the queen would not simply say, Ah, she's an adult now. Nothing to be done. I'll take my leave.
In the original course of history, he had clung to power until the bitter end and was eventually expelled once Victoria became queen.
If he gave up quietly now, that would be the real surprise.
"But tell me," Conroy continued slowly, "if Victoria herself declared that the Duchess should serve as regent… then we would still have a chance, wouldn't we?"
Of course.
This was exactly the John Conroy I knew.
The very embodiment of pathetic persistence.
I nodded casually in agreement.
"Well, yes. If the princess signs a document naming the Duchess as regent—or appointing you as her personal secretary—that alone would carry considerable weight. After all, she is now legally an adult."
"I knew it. There's still hope. But the longer we wait, the less likely she'll listen… Perhaps tomorrow—"
When Victoria had been a minor, any document promising that her mother would act as regent once she came of age would have had no legal force.
But if she signed such a document now, as an adult, it could carry real legal authority.
For Conroy and the Duchess of Kent, it was the final rope they could cling to.
"You're right," I said. "Time is not on your side. The sooner you act, the better your chances."
"Good. Then tomorrow I'll bring the document myself. You'll stay with Victoria. If the Duchess, myself, and you all persuade her together, we should be able to secure her signature."
"Understood. I believe I'll be reading with her around noon tomorrow. If you come then, the timing should work."
"You understand that if I rise higher, it will be much easier for me to support someone from the same background as you. So do your best to help me."
I was about to nod—
when a cheerful voice suddenly cut into the conversation.
"Well now, if it isn't the rising star of the Conservative Party—Lord Killian Gore, Earl of Arran. I didn't expect to run into you here."
A middle-aged gentleman approached with an affable smile.
Although he had interrupted our conversation rather abruptly, I recognized him immediately and bowed politely.
"Viscount Melbourne. I didn't expect to see you here either. It's a pleasure."
"Hahaha! Likewise!"
William Lamb, the second Viscount Melbourne.
After Charles Grey stepped down as leader, he had emerged as one of the most influential figures within the Whig Party.
In the original timeline he would eventually become prime minister and act as a mentor to Queen Victoria.
But in this world, unfortunately for him, that kind of career path would likely be impossible.
Even so, he remained the leader of the Whigs—the party holding the largest number of seats in Parliament.
His influence in politics far surpassed mine.
And it certainly dwarfed that of someone like Conroy, whose power was already hanging by a thread.
Melbourne glanced between Conroy and me before casually pointing toward a quieter corner of the hall.
"I've been meaning to have a word with you. Would you care to step over there for a moment? It's rather noisy here."
Conroy's face stiffened as he was abruptly treated like a piece of furniture.
Melbourne didn't even spare him a glance.
Conroy looked ready to say something, but after a moment he turned away with a sour expression and left.
The interruption had been unexpected, but from my perspective it was actually helpful.
The more wounded his pride became, the more dramatic his behavior would be tomorrow.
"Haha… I suppose there's no need to move elsewhere now," I said.
"Indeed. Even a man without shame can still possess a little self-awareness. Personally, I would have been too embarrassed to attend such a gathering in his position."
For someone with a reputation as a polite and upright gentleman, Melbourne's cold tone spoke volumes about how poorly Conroy was regarded among Britain's elite.
And now that Victoria had reached adulthood, most people naturally assumed Conroy's influence was finished.
"But I must admit," I continued, "I didn't expect that you would wish to speak with me. May I ask what this is about?"
"I doubt I'm the only one who wants a word with you," Melbourne replied with a faint smile. "I heard you recently left London for a time. Where did you go?"
"Wales. I had a small matter to attend to."
Well now.
Did that mean the Whigs were already tracking my movements in London?
And mentioning it so openly suggested that he intended to apply at least a little pressure.
Melbourne studied my face for a moment before chuckling softly and shrugging.
"Oh, don't look so wary. The truth is, what we were really interested in was the movements of that fellow who just ran off like a scolded puppy—Conroy. He's an Irishman aligned with the Conservatives, after all. Naturally, some people wondered whether you and he might be closely connected."
"I suppose that would be a reasonable assumption. We do share a few similarities."
The Whigs had effectively lost Ireland, so it was only natural they would want to keep an eye on me.
Still, I hadn't expected them to try linking me to Conroy like this.
Had they simply misjudged the situation?
Or were they attempting to smear me even though they knew the connection was weak?
A while ago I might have felt a little uneasy about this.
But now, honestly…
I found it more amusing than anything else.