The political center of the British Empire lay in the Palace of Westminster.
But its spiritual center remained here—where the monarch resided.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that Buckingham Palace still held that role.
Ever since the Conservative Party—whom William IV had openly supported—succeeded in forming a government, the king had gradually increased the frequency of his political remarks.
He walked a delicate line, never saying too much yet never saying too little. Thanks to that careful balance, the authority of Buckingham Palace had risen significantly compared to the early days of the administration.
But no matter how hard one tried, eternal rule simply did not exist.
"How frustrating."
The master of the palace muttered irritably from his bed. Recently he had been spending far more time lying down than before.
"You've been overexerting yourself lately," came the reply. "Enjoying the privileges of victory is all well and good, but you ought to remember your age."
"I know that with my head," William IV grumbled. "But my heart keeps telling me otherwise. If you were in my position, would you really sit quietly and rest?"
"Not a chance," Augustus replied with a chuckle. "It's always easy to give advice when you're watching someone else's chess match from the sidelines."
"You're hardly in a position to talk about sidelines," William shot back. "I heard you gave Conroy quite the dressing-down at Kensington. I haven't heard the full story, but the rumor is he practically begged on his hands and knees. Is that true?"
The disturbance at Kensington Palace had naturally reached the ears of royal officials and eventually made its way to the king.
William IV had been eager to learn the details of such an entertaining scandal, but he had been unable to uncover the full story.
Conroy and the Duchess of Kent had kept silent, and both the Duke of Sussex and Victoria—who had received the apology—had said nothing either.
"It's true," Augustus admitted. "But he offered a sincere apology in exchange for not being formally accused, so we decided not to escalate the matter further."
"Accused? Then he must have done something quite serious…"
"It's more accurate to say he was caught in a situation he couldn't escape. There were witnesses, and we secured the evidence. He'll think twice before opening his mouth for the rest of his life."
William IV sighed dramatically.
"My curiosity is killing me. Surely you can tell me at least? I swear I won't breathe a word of it. I'll stake my crown on it."
"There's no need to stake the crown," Augustus replied with a laugh. "But you must promise this stays between us. Under no circumstances can it become public."
After extracting the promise several more times, Augustus briefly summarized the events at Kensington.
"Good heavens… so the man truly knelt before Victoria and begged for forgiveness?"
"What choice did he have? The alternative was prison. And apparently the Duchess of Kent was quite shaken by how humiliating he looked. Since then she hasn't even spoken properly with him."
"So the woman is only now beginning to come to her senses. Still… it's a shame I missed such an entertaining spectacle."
William sighed deeply.
"If Killian had called me instead of you, the scene would have been far more dramatic. Wouldn't it have been even better if the king himself had made a surprise appearance?"
"If that had happened," Augustus said dryly, "Conroy wouldn't have been apologizing. He would have been dragged straight to court. Besides, how exactly were you planning to sneak into Kensington Palace unnoticed?"
William knew perfectly well the idea was absurd.
Even so, he couldn't help regretting that he had missed the moment when Conroy and the Duchess of Kent's ridiculous ambitions had collapsed into dust.
It would have been far more satisfying than merely humiliating them at a dinner party.
"Killian certainly has an unusual mind," the king murmured. "I never imagined he would crush Conroy so thoroughly."
"It's not just his ideas," Augustus said. "His knowledge is extraordinary for someone his age. That paper he wrote was impressive enough, but Victoria told me studying with him was less like studying together and more like receiving a private education."
"Yes, I heard about that. Honestly, I assumed he would simply pass along the contents of the books I recommended. But apparently he taught her far beyond that. I haven't confirmed it myself yet, but I plan to summon Victoria soon and ask her a few questions."
Augustus sighed wistfully.
"The two of them seem quite close. To be honest, it feels like such a waste. If only the boy weren't Irish… or at least if he weren't of mixed blood… I might have tried adopting him and bringing the two of them together."
William IV snorted in disbelief.
"You'd adopt him?"
"Why not? You yourself added a clause to your will recognizing my marriage. My wife practically treats Killian as a son already. Making him my adopted son wouldn't be difficult."
"That may be your decision," William said carefully, "but surely you're not seriously thinking of pairing him with Victoria."
"I already told you," Augustus replied. "If he weren't mixed-blood, I would consider it seriously. A boy that intelligent—and that loyal to the royal family—doesn't exist anywhere else in this kingdom. But there are simply too many obstacles."
William had entertained the same thought once or twice.
But he had reached the same conclusion.
Being Irish, by itself, could theoretically be overcome if the royal family was determined enough. With parliamentary cooperation and careful management of public opinion, it might even be forced through.
But if the man in question was not only Irish but also of mixed Eastern blood?
If he had been the son of some Eastern prince or noble, at least the court could wrap the matter in diplomatic rhetoric about harmony between nations.
But Killian possessed none of that convenient justification.
"If Killian were seriously involved with Victoria," William said grimly, "Parliament would object immediately. Even if the Conservatives stayed quiet, the Whigs would foam at the mouth. The king-consort of the British Empire—a man with the blood of an Eastern slave in his veins? The very thought is dizzying."
"That's why I said if," Augustus replied. "If he weren't mixed-blood, I would support it."
Which meant that even the Duke of Sussex—who clearly cared for Killian deeply—considered such a union impossible.
In truth, adoption itself was far from a normal practice in that era.
Most adoptions were informal, and even then inheritance required complex legal arrangements.
Even if Killian were adopted by the Duke of Sussex, the chances of him becoming the next Duke were essentially nonexistent.
Still, being recognized as the duke's favored son would elevate his position immensely.
But that would be the limit.
Anything beyond that would provoke fierce resistance.
"Frederick," William said quietly, "if you truly care about that boy, then you must not only support him but also make sure he understands the limits of the world he lives in. Ensure that he never crosses the boundaries of law or social convention."
"Of course," Augustus replied confidently. "Do you really think I'd neglect that?"
William suppressed a smile.
This was, after all, the same brother who had ignored the law twice to marry whom he pleased. There was no guarantee he wouldn't do it again.
Even at sixty, Augustus sometimes behaved like a stubborn child.
Exactly fifteen days after John Conroy's tearful display of "please forgive me."
I received a summons from the king and was called to Buckingham Palace.
"I heard from my brother that you staged quite an interesting event recently," William IV said.
"It was simply a surprise celebration for the princess's birthday. Fortunately she seemed to enjoy it very much."
I already knew that the Duke of Sussex had told the king about the incident.
There had never been any realistic way to keep such a story from him.
Still, William was a sensible man. He wouldn't suddenly attempt to punish Conroy after the matter had been resolved.
So I had little to worry about.
"It's unfortunate I couldn't witness it myself," the king said. "But that's not why I summoned you. Can you guess the reason?"
"There are so many possibilities that it would be difficult to choose just one."
"I spoke with Victoria the day before yesterday after hearing the story. And to be honest… I was quite astonished. Do you know why?"
"Because the princess knows far more than Your Majesty expected."
William IV had always considered me an intelligent boy.
But on the surface I was still a year younger than Victoria.
If the king expected me to pass along knowledge worth ten points, what Victoria had actually learned was worth a hundred—perhaps two hundred.
At least in politics and economics.
In military matters, my knowledge was far less impressive.
Even I had my limits.
"You're exactly right," the king said. "I asked her several questions about current political and economic issues. Her answers went far beyond what I expected. To be honest, they startled me. She even mentioned things I myself had not considered."
"The princess is exceptionally intelligent. When you teach her one thing, she quickly understands two."
"What impressed me most," William continued, "was that she wasn't simply repeating memorized facts. She truly understands how politics works. Naturally, when I asked where she learned these things… the conversation turned to you."
The king looked at me with a complicated expression before shaking his head.
"No… perhaps that isn't my place to discuss. Let me ask something else instead. When we first met, you said you wished to overcome the limitations of your birth and enter the House of Lords. In your letters you repeatedly emphasized your desire to participate more actively in the politics of this country. Has that ambition changed?"
"Not at all."
"So you still intend to involve yourself deeply in British politics?"
He was circling the question rather persistently.
Perhaps he suspected I might evade a direct answer.
"Your Majesty," I said calmly, "my loyalty to Princess Victoria is sincere. I would never do anything that might harm her or place a burden upon her."
It might have sounded like an unrelated answer.
But it was precisely what William IV wanted to hear.
His expression brightened immediately.
"Well… that was rather direct. I tried to phrase the question delicately, yet you answered it head-on. Still, I assume you mean what you say."
"I have no intention of harming the royal family for personal gain, like Conroy did. If the monarchy prospers, the nation prospers. And if the nation prospers, I prosper as well. It's a simple cycle."
"You're young," William said gently. "My concerns may seem unfair to you. After all, you didn't choose your birth. Yet the ceiling above you will always be lower than that of other nobles. The world is harsher than you realize. Think of these words not as the ramblings of an old man, but as advice meant to protect you in the future."
In other words:
Do not even think of pursuing Victoria.
"On my father's name," I said solemnly, "I swear I will never do anything that could harm the princess."
"Good," the king said softly. "That puts my mind at ease. Now then… since you have honored my requests faithfully so far, let me share something with you in return. The truth is… my health has not been good lately."
I pretended to be startled and bowed quickly.
"You've simply been exhausted from recent events. With some rest—"
William laughed.
"When you reach my age, you'll learn that rest doesn't restore one's strength. For years I prayed that God would allow me to live until Victoria came of age. It seems He granted that wish… though perhaps a little too literally. I should have asked for ten more years afterward."
Then his expression grew serious again.
"I doubt I have much time left. So I ask one favor of you. Victoria may now be an adult, but she is still young and inexperienced in state affairs. Stand beside her and support her as you have until now—but never do anything that could harm her. I've spoken with several nobles as well. If you keep your promise, they will lend you considerable support."
"Your Majesty will recover your strength," I replied respectfully. "But if my promise eases your mind, then I give it gladly."
"Good… good."
He sighed in relief.
"Enough of gloomy talk. Let's speak of something brighter. In your view, what kind of age awaits Victoria?"
"This country is growing at a pace unlike anything in the past. The current economic downturn will pass, and Britain will rise stronger than before. Princess Victoria will become the greatest queen of a new age for the British Empire."
The king—who had ruled long enough to symbolize an era—smiled faintly.
"You sound as though you intend to make that happen yourself. Frederick said that you…"
He stopped.
"No. There's no need to dwell on old conversations. Let's continue where we left off."
For the next hour we spoke openly about the present, the future, and the path this nation should take.
At last, satisfied, William IV walked me to the door of his chamber.
"I'm truly glad we had this conversation today. Travel safely, and if the opportunity arises, we shall talk again."
I bowed and left Buckingham Palace.
But the timing of meetings and farewells is always sudden.
Exactly ten days after that meeting—
Robert Peel, the prime minister and the first man to receive news from the palace, sent me an urgent message.
His Majesty King William IV has passed into the Lord's embrace.We must inform the new sovereign that she is now queen.Come to Kensington immediately.
Faster than anyone expected.
Yet exactly as I had foreseen.
The British Empire was saying farewell to one era—
and preparing to welcome another.