Watching a fight might be the most entertaining spectacle in the world.
But if that fight happens inside one's own household, the story becos rather different.
The clash between the old guard and the rising generation that began in the House of Commons had naturally beco a topic closely watched in the House of Lords as well.
At present, the House of Lords was effectively dominated by the Conservative Party.
Naturally, they wanted the Conservatives to remain powerful in the Commons as well.
So when this political uproar erupted, it was inevitable that so nobles would feel deeply uncomfortable.
Sensing the mont was right, the Duke of Wellington summoned several of the most influential peers.
"As you are all aware," the Duke began calmly,
"the House of Commons has been rather… turbulent lately."
"I thought it best that we establish a clear stance."
"That is why I invited you all here today."
A noble raised an eyebrow.
"If that is the case, shouldn't the Pri Minister be present?"
"The forr Pri Minister," Wellington corrected calmly.
"And technically speaking, he is no longer Pri Minister."
"In any case, since he stands at the center of the dispute, I chose not to invite him in the interest of fairness."
Although Robert Peel frequently attended the Commons as Pri Minister, he was formally a mber of the House of Lords, holding a noble title.
But once the Duke of Wellington drew that line so clearly, the other nobles raised no objections.
"Your Grace," another peer said,
"I heard that your son gathered every journalist in London yesterday and delivered quite a remarkable speech."
"Were you aware of it beforehand?"
"I did not hear the details," Wellington replied.
"But I understand the convictions that guide his actions."
"However, I have no intention of supporting him simply because he is my son."
"What matters is that our party continues to hold power."
Another noble spoke cautiously.
"The forr Pri Minister asked that the House of Lords unite and apply pressure on the Commons."
"He fears that Conservative influence there will weaken if this continues."
"Weaken?" Wellington replied thoughtfully.
"If the House of Lords openly sides with the forr Pri Minister, how do you think the public will interpret that?"
"The governnt collapsed because it tried to oppress younger politicians and monopolize power."
"If we intervene now, we would only reinforce that perception."
The House of Lords already carried a reputation for arrogance.
If they rushed to defend Robert Peel, it would simply confirm the public's worst assumptions.
To be honest, many conservative peers were not particularly pleased with Charles Wellesley's near-insubordinate behavior.
But they disliked even more the idea of being dragged into the mud because of Peel's mistakes.
Richard Colley Wellesley, the Marquess Wellesley, elder brother of the Duke and one of the long-standing pillars of the Conservative establishnt, clicked his tongue openly.
"If he wished to discard soone once they had served their purpose, that is his business."
"If he wished to discipline young politicians, that is also his prerogative."
"I have no intention of criticizing such things."
"But if he failed—and ended up being driven out by a vote of no confidence—"
"Then he should at least have the decency to feel ashad."
"To be precise, that is not corruption."
"It is incompetence."
The Marquess of Anglesey, who had already received advance hints from Killian, nodded imdiately.
"I agree."
"Regardless of right or wrong, this simply proves a lack of ability."
The peers did not object to the idea of controlling ambitious juniors.
That was practically tradition.
But such things required subtlety.
If one pushed too hard and was thrown out in retaliation—
The spectacle was simply embarrassing.
"But Your Grace," one noble said,
"the election will take place in a few months."
"If we continue fighting like this and lose the election—"
"What then?"
"What then?" Wellington replied bluntly.
"Then my foolish son must bear responsibility for creating division within the party."
"If he started this conflict without even preparing a plan to win the next election, then he cannot be trusted with the helm of the Commons."
Even if the man in question was his own son—
If he hard the party, Wellington would cut him down without hesitation.
However…
If that son won the next election and proved his ability, there would be no reason not to support him.
The Duke's clear position caused the other nobles to nod slowly.
"Then perhaps we should remain neutral until the election," soone suggested.
"I agree," another noble said.
"There is no need to involve ourselves in such a mud fight."
"We are peers of the realm."
"It would hardly suit our dignity to wade into such a lowly quarrel."
"I concur with the Earl of Aberdeen."
"There is no need for us to lower ourselves by shouting in that arena."
To put it plainly—
Whether it was Charles Wellesley or Robert Peel, the one who won the election and secured a Conservative majority would beco their ally.
Peel was a mber of the House of Lords.
But Charles Wellesley was the son of the Duke of Wellington, whose family had long dominated the Lords.
His elder brother was also a peer.
Neither man was an outsider.
Therefore the logical choice was simple:
Support whichever one proved more useful.
In the end, Conservative peers in the House of Lords decided almost unanimously to remain neutral.
Robert Peel's request—that they help him condemn Charles Wellesley's insubordination—received no response.
There was a saying that the noise of the outside world could never penetrate the thick walls of the royal palace.
But that saying belonged to an earlier era.
Queen Victoria, who showed more interest in politics and the lives of her citizens than any monarch before her, summoned the very next day after Charles Wellesley's press conference.
"I heard about what's happening," she said.
"Is everything alright?"
"I apologize for causing Your Majesty concern," I replied.
"But fortunately there is no problem."
"Everything is proceeding exactly as planned."
"Exactly as planned?" Victoria asked.
"Then why didn't you tell beforehand?"
"Well," I said with a smile,
"I only ford the plan after receiving information from Mr. Disraeli in Ireland."
"I did try to speak with Your Majesty."
"But you kept avoiding any opportunity for us to be alone."
If I asked her to listen for a mont, she would blush and flee the room.
And now she was asking why I hadn't explained things earlier.
That felt rather unfair.
Perhaps rembering the sa incident, Victoria's cheeks turned red.
She touched her forehead awkwardly.
"That… was my mistake."
"I'm sorry. My heart simply refused to calm down that day."
"That's quite alright."
"If it had been sothing Your Majesty absolutely needed to know, I would have found a way to inform you."
"At the ti, Your Majesty also needed space to compose yourself."
"So… is there anything I can do about this situation?"
"Forr Pri Minister Peel will likely co to see Your Majesty soon," I said.
"He must request the dissolution of Parliant, so he has no choice."
"He might also ask for your support—or request diation."
"I'm already scheduled to et him today," Victoria said calmly.
"If he asks sothing like that, I'll simply refuse with a suitable excuse."
"I heard he tried to send you back to Asia as a special envoy."
For a mont—
The gentle smile in her eyes seed to flash with sothing far colder.
"Ah… yes," I replied carefully.
"That did happen."
"Why didn't you tell ?"
"You returned after accomplishing great deeds for the Empire."
"And they tried to send you back to Asia again?"
"That's outrageous."
"If Your Majesty openly opposed it," I said,
"it could be seen as interference in politics."
"And I believed I could resolve the matter myself."
"So I chose not to worry you."
"I see."
Victoria frowned slightly.
"But I still cannot forgive it."
"If I speak directly, it might appear as political interference."
"So I plan to leak my opinion through an unofficial channel."
"That should be acceptable, shouldn't it?"
Ah.
So she wanted to use the famous modern phrase:
"According to an anonymous source."
Even in the twenty-first century, that trick was used constantly.
And yes—
It would be very effective.
"Understood," I said.
"Then perhaps the article could read sothing like this."
'According to a lady-in-waiting at Kensington Palace, Her Majesty despises acts of unfairness above all else. Such conduct diminishes the dignity of the British Empire, and those who achieve great deeds must receive appropriate recognition.'
"With wording like that, no one will fail to understand who is being criticized."
"Excellent," Victoria said.
"I might forgive many things."
"But I cannot forgive the man who tried to send you away like that."
I laughed awkwardly.
Who would have thought Robert Peel would earn the Queen's personal anger like this?
At this rate, his fate might beco far worse than I had anticipated.
"When Parliant dissolves, the election will follow," Victoria said thoughtfully.
"If you win, the forr Pri Minister's faction will collapse, correct?"
"Yes."
"The defections have already begun."
"By the ti the election ends, most mbers of Parliant will be on our side."
"But the forr Pri Minister is a peer," Victoria pointed out.
"Even if he loses power, he can simply return to the House of Lords."
"He won't even need to face an election."
"Even so," I replied,
"the peers will not defend a man who lost so completely."
"They will likely distance themselves from him."
"That's still unsatisfying…"
At this point, one might think Victoria herself was the one fighting Robert Peel.
Truthfully, I would have liked to crush the forr Pri Minister completely.
But Peel was still a mber of the House of Lords.
If we humiliated him too severely, the peers might grow resentful.
That resentnt could easily turn against Charles and myself.
So my plan had been simple:
Eliminate his faction—
But leave Peel himself enough dignity to survive.
However…
If the Royal Family intervened, the situation could change entirely.
"Your Majesty," I asked carefully.
"Do you already have a thod in mind?"
"No," Victoria admitted.
"Nothing definite yet."
"But—"
Knock. Knock.
Before she could finish, a servant outside the door announced a visitor.
"Your Majesty."
"Forr Pri Minister Robert Peel has arrived."
"Shall I show him in?"
"Yes," Victoria said calmly.
"Tell him he may enter."
The door opened imdiately.
Robert Peel entered the room.
In just a few days, he already looked noticeably worn.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing.
"Thank you for granting an audience."
"I ca today to discuss the dissolu—"
He froze.
Because he had just noticed sitting across from the Queen.
Victoria rely sipped her tea and smiled politely.
"I was asking the minister about recent political developnts."
"Please continue."
"You ca regarding the dissolution of Parliant, didn't you?"
"…Yes," Peel said stiffly.
"The vote of no confidence has passed."
"I am not in a position to appoint a successor."
"So it seems necessary to form a new Parliant."
"If Your Majesty could attend the Commons and formally dissolve it, I would be grateful."
"I apologize for causing inconvenience."
"There's no need to apologize," Victoria replied.
"It is my duty."
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Her tone sounded kind.
But when Victoria spoke like this—
She was at her most dangerous.
Peel clearly sensed the pressure.
He glanced between the Queen and before shaking his head.
"No."
"I cannot trouble Your Majesty further."
"However… if it is permitted…"
"May I speak privately with the minister for a mont?"
Now?
Did he still have sothing to say?
I signaled that I had no objection.
Victoria chuckled softly.
"Of course."
"I'm sure you two have much to discuss."
"Please, go ahead."
After bowing once more to the Queen, I followed my dear forr Pri Minister outside.
We walked silently into the palace garden.
Peel sighed heavily before finally turning toward .
"You…"
"What exactly did you tell Her Majesty?"
"She wished to know how the political situation was developing," I replied calmly.
"So I explained."
"…You must think you've already won."
"There is no winning or losing here," I said politely.
"I regret that matters turned out this way."
"Regret?" Peel scoffed.
"If you truly regretted it—"
I waited.
Half curious.
Half amused.
Perhaps he still had a hidden card.
But the next words that left his mouth were sothing I had never expected.
"Would you consider…"
"…calling it a draw?"
For a mont—
I nearly burst out laughing.
Ah.
So this was how he begged for his life.
"Pri Minister," I said carefully, doing my best not to laugh too loudly.
"If you're going to make jokes like that…"
"Perhaps you should go eat so fish and chips instead."
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