If one were to name the greatest global festival of the 21st century, it would undoubtedly be the World Cup—but that was not the case in the 19th and early 20th centuries.
Even the World Cup and the Olympics, now called global festivals, did not match the early prestige of the Exposition.
In fact, in their early days, those events were treated almost as side attractions attached to the Exposition. That alone shows just how immense its status was.
The reason was simple.
As the name World's Fair suggests, it was a stage where the great powers competed to display their superiority.
To promote one's system and politics, one must demonstrate superiority—and there was no better platform than this.
Even heads of state personally took part in promoting their nations, and it is well known that even that mustached man from Germany once attempted to participate himself.
The original London Exposition, regarded as the first of its kind, had been modest in scale—but with my intervention, it had grown far larger than intended.
And now, crushed beneath the disaster I had brought upon myself, I was forced to endure humiliation in front of countless ambassadors.
"Are you alright? Your expression earlier was… barely holding together—pfft."
"…What do you mean? That was my normal expression."
"Oh really? I've known you since childhood, yet I never realized you panic so easily. How surprising."
Victoria teasing me so openly—it had been a long time.
Well… it must have been that amusing for her.
Even if I had been made a spectacle, if my wife was happy then—
No. Absolutely not.
After hearing that mindless chanting in front of nearly every ambassador in Europe, who exactly is supposed to take responsibility for that atmosphere?
What if they misunderstand and think I orchestrated that display in Joseon and Japan?
…No, surely not. No one would believe I planned something so crude.
Given everything I have shown so far.
"But Killian? The Japanese diplomat kept saying… Susanoo? What is that?"
"…I don't know."
"Oh come now, you clearly do. If you don't tell me, I'll summon the Japanese ambassador right now—"
"…It's one of the major deities in their mythology. One of the three most prominent gods."
"Ah~ I think I've heard of it. They're polytheistic, aren't they? Similar to Egypt, perhaps?"
Now that she mentioned it, that comparison was not entirely wrong.
In Egypt, the Pharaoh was called the incarnation of Horus, the sun god.
In Japan, the Emperor is revered as the embodiment of Amaterasu, also a sun deity.
If so… that envoy must have likened me to Susanoo as a convenient counterpart.
Lower than the Emperor, yet still one of their most beloved gods.
How thoughtful. I could almost be moved to tears.
Though hearing "Susanoo" repeatedly makes it feel like strange patterns might appear in my eyes at any moment.
"Japan is a representative polytheistic nation in Northeast Asia. They attach the names of gods to everything—there's no need to pay it much attention."
"My husband is an incarnation of a god? Then our children would be demigods, wouldn't they?"
…She was not listening at all.
Of course, as the head of the Anglican Church, Victoria would never take such things seriously.
She simply found my embarrassment entertaining.
At least the children had not attended the banquet—that much was a relief.
"Yes, yes. But surely none of that compares to Your Majesty—the center of the world, the sovereign acknowledged by the nations of the East."
"To be honest, that part did feel a bit embarrassing. But then something even more outrageous happened, so I felt relieved. Otherwise I would have been the only one left awkward."
"…You're welcome. Truly, there is no husband like me."
"Someone might think you planned it."
Victoria laughed and lightly kissed my forehead.
Unintended as it was, perhaps this incident even offset my earlier recklessness during the Crimean War.
I had briefly considered how to properly discipline that Japanese envoy who made me into a spectacle—but seeing Victoria so amused, it hardly seemed worth it.
Let it be.
To them, it was probably sincere praise.
"Victoria, in any case… now that things have come to this, I assume you are prepared?"
"Prepared? For what? It's mostly honorary—nothing truly changes."
In this era, calling oneself emperor or king often means little in practice.
Even if Prussia proclaims itself an empire, little truly changes.
Napoleon crowned himself Emperor, and many followed suit—but it altered little in substance.
Even the Ottomans claimed the title of Roman Emperor after conquering Constantinople, yet Europe dismissed it outright.
However—
A true imperial title, not merely self-proclaimed, can still bring diplomatic advantages.
What I seek is not some hollow title like "Emperor of India" or "Emperor of Brazil."
No one likely understands my intentions—perhaps only the Joseon king I spoke with directly.
Others might have inferred something at the banquet—
but thanks to Japan's outburst, I became the evening's punchline instead.
Even Victoria seemed unaware.
…In that case, did Japan unintentionally help me?
If so, perhaps I should make full use of this opportunity.
The fractured order of Northeast Asia—
it is time to reassemble it with my own hands.
While I spent a quiet moment with Victoria after the unexpected incident—
the Japanese embassy was in complete chaos.
The envoy responsible, Chikasige, had recently been appointed to London by the shogun.
A close aide elevated to such a position—it was a clear sign the shogunate intended to strengthen ties with Britain.
However, the outgoing envoy, Tadafusa, who was to return to Japan, was now berating him furiously.
"I told you countless times! Absolutely no strange behavior! What on earth did you do yesterday?!"
"I fail to understand what you mean."
"At the banquet—you proclaimed His Highness Killian as Susanoo's incarnation and led a chant!"
"Ah, that? It was very well received. A great success, no?"
Success?
Just recalling it made Tadafusa pale.
This is why one cannot trust provincial men from Edo.
"Ambassador Chikasige, Europe is not like Asia! Did you not see how the other envoys looked at us?"
"They looked with interest. Isn't that beneficial?"
Interest?
More like watching animals in a cage.
Still—attention is better than indifference, perhaps.
"…And what of calling him Susanoo's incarnation?"
"That was my brilliance. The attention shifted from Joseon to us immediately."
"…."
"With the Emperor as the incarnation of Amaterasu, we cannot elevate him too highly—but His Highness is of Tokugawa blood, a naval admiral of Britain, and a war hero who defeated Russia. Who better than the god of storms and seas—Susanoo?"
From a Japanese perspective, the logic held.
But Europeans would not understand any of it.
"To Europeans, Susanoo and Tsukuyomi mean nothing!"
"Then we shall present gifts—paintings and treasures—and explain the mythology."
"…This is a Christian nation! Introducing foreign gods could be seen as blasphemy!"
"…Ah. I see."
At last, he seemed to understand.
"Then I will revise the strategy. We could present His Highness as the reincarnation of Jesus—"
"If you do that, I will kill you myself!"
Only then did the man finally grasp the gravity.
At this rate, disaster within a month seemed inevitable.
"…In any case, do you remember how Qing glared at Joseon?"
"Of course. This could become the central issue of the Exhibition."
Japan understood what Joseon was attempting.
And that meant—
it could be used.
If necessary, even cooperating with Joseon might serve Japan's interests.
For attention—
anything was possible.
And so, the discussion between the current and former envoys continued deep into the night.