When the results of the 1841 election were announced, speculation erupted everywhere.
After all, this was not rely another election.
It suggested a significant shift within the Conservative Party, whose internal power structure had remained largely unchanged for decades.
Naturally, the entire political world was watching.
Newspapers rushed to print their headlines.
"Conservatives Win Again! No Upsets in the Election!"
"Will Another Pri Minister in His Thirties Lead Parliant? The Rise of Charles Wellesley."
It had been generations since such a young figure had stood at the forefront of the party.
Not since William Pitt the Younger had soone so young risen to such prominence.
Of course, youth alone could easily inspire anxiety.
But Charles Wellesley was not a complete novice.
He had already served several terms in Parliant and, more importantly, he was the son of the Duke of Wellington.
That lineage alone reassured many traditional Conservatives.
Even the House of Lords, which had previously stated they would wait for the election results before making any decisions, quickly reached a consensus.
They would support Charles Wellesley.
"So we are all in agreent," one peer asked, "that the next governnt will be entrusted to Mr. Wellesley?"
"Do you believe Mr. Wellesley can withstand the pressure from the Whigs?" another asked.
"He managed to dismantle Sir Robert Peel and drive him from power," soone replied.
"His political skill is hardly in doubt."
"Then perhaps we should simply observe how he governs."
anwhile, the Whig Party was far from despondent.
"Our last election gave us 292 seats," one Whig leader pointed out.
"This ti we secured 297."
"In fact, we gained five additional seats."
"Even after Britain's victory in the war against Qing China," another said, "the opposition has still grown stronger. That's encouraging."
"The Conservatives currently have the advantage because they dominate the issues that affect everyday citizens."
"We must learn to respond faster in those areas."
While both parties assessed the political landscape and planned their future strategies, senior Conservatives held an audience with the Queen.
Before Parliant could convene, the Pri Minister and cabinet had to be formally appointed.
Although the process was largely ceremonial, the Pri Minister technically served at the monarch's pleasure.
Winning a majority in Parliant did not automatically grant the office.
"So it would be correct to say," Queen Victoria asked calmly, "that the Conservative Party wishes to appoint Mr. Charles Wellesley as Pri Minister?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," one senior Conservative replied.
"The party intends for Mr. Wellesley to lead the next governnt."
"I see," Victoria said.
"The Conservatives hold a comfortable majority, and Mr. Wellesley appears to be the central figure within your party."
"In that case, I see no problem."
"Have the ministerial appointnts already been finalized?"
Charles Wellesley hesitated.
"Not entirely… Your Majesty."
"There are still a few matters that require further discussion."
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
"You an the cabinet has not yet been finalized?"
"The opening ceremony of Parliant will take place soon."
Under British law, once a new Parliant was ford, the monarch would hold a State Opening of Parliant.
Naturally, the Pri Minister and key ministers had to be appointed before that ceremony.
The Speaker of the House of Commons usually continued in office without interruption, so that position rarely required discussion.
But cabinet ministers were another matter entirely.
They had to align politically with the Pri Minister.
"Delaying the appointnt of ministers," Victoria said gently, "may lead people to question whether Mr. Wellesley is prepared for the role of Pri Minister."
"You understand that, don't you?"
"Of course, Your Majesty," Wellesley replied quickly.
"There is no serious problem. We rely need a little more discussion."
"I will submit the list of ministers for approval tomorrow."
"Very well," Victoria said.
"I shall wait without concern."
Only a few days earlier, Charles had felt as if he had gained the entire world when the premiership was secured.
But now, with the opening of Parliant approaching, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders.
For the first ti, he truly felt the burden of being Pri Minister of the British Empire.
Still, the eting concluded smoothly.
Later that evening, Charles turned to .
"Killian, we really must finalize the cabinet today."
"If this drags on any longer, the Queen may begin to suspect that I'm an inexperienced Pri Minister."
"You were the one who insisted on forming the cabinet yourself," I replied.
"If you had asked for help earlier, I would have given it."
"I already prepared a list," Wellesley said defensively.
"But everything fell apart when you refused to beco Chancellor of the Exchequer."
"Of course I refused," I said calmly.
"I have no reason to take that position."
"I prefer practical benefits over honorary prestige."
Historically, the Chancellor of the Exchequer—Britain's finance minister—had always been one of the most powerful figures in governnt.
Whoever controlled the treasury controlled the nation's purse.
Even now, most people would rank it as the most important cabinet position after the Pri Minister.
Charles's attempt to reward his closest ally with that position made perfect sense.
The only problem was that I had no interest in it—at least not yet.
"Even so," Wellesley said, "you were Foreign Secretary before."
"If you remain Foreign Secretary again, it will look a bit strange."
"You should at least gain another post so it appears that I'm properly rewarding you."
"In that case," I said, "create a suitable position."
"But first we must decide the Chancellor."
"If you refuse the treasury," Wellesley muttered, "should I give it to Disraeli?"
"Disraeli would not be a bad choice," I admitted.
"But I think it would be better to wait until the next election."
Disraeli, though slightly older than Wellesley, still carried the image of a young politician in his thirties.
A Pri Minister in his thirties already represented youthful boldness.
If several key ministers were also extrely young, it might appear unstable to more conservative observers.
It could even look like the governnt was monopolizing power among its inner circle.
"Actually," Wellesley said thoughtfully, "Benjamin ntioned he would prefer to gain more experience in the Ho Office first."
"Then we should respect that."
"In any case, the treasury should go to soone with proven experience."
"So who would that be?"
"There's no need to search far," I said.
"Simply reappoint the previous Chancellor—Henry Goulburn."
"You want to keep a minister from the previous governnt?" Wellesley asked.
Goulburn was nearly sixty years old.
A veteran statesman who had served as Chancellor under Wellington and later under Robert Peel.
But when Peel's downfall beca inevitable, he had quickly shifted his allegiance.
"Appointing soone like him sends an important ssage," I explained.
"It shows that we are not favoring only our own faction."
"And since he previously served as Chancellor twice, his administrative ability is well proven."
"It will also reassure older Conservatives that you are not rely a reckless young reforr."
Wellesley nodded slowly.
"That makes sense."
"If the Pri Minister is young, appointing an experienced Chancellor will project stability."
"And the party elders will have little reason to complain."
"Exactly," I said.
"The public will also see that you value balance."
"I'll have The Morning Post praise the decision. It will have an imdiate effect."
Wellesley laughed.
"The more I think about it, the better this sounds."
"I should have asked your opinion from the beginning."
"No," I replied.
"It's important that you attempt these decisions yourself."
"When obstacles arise, that's when you listen to advisors."
"That process helps you grow as Pri Minister."
"After all, I cannot remain in London 365 days a year."
Once the treasury position was settled, the rest of the cabinet quickly fell into place.
Then, thanks to Wellesley's insistence, I received another title in addition to remaining Foreign Secretary.
In truth, I had already been hoping for such an arrangent.
For my plans involving Canadian immigration and expansion in North Arica, I needed a position with broader authority.
"If you insist on granting another office," I said, "I would like authority over Canadian immigration and developnt—including diplomatic matters."
"You an you want to beco Governor of British North Arica?" Wellesley asked.
"That would be easy."
"No," I said.
"A governor must manage daily administration."
"I have neither the ti nor the intention to remain there permanently."
"What I need is a position capable of overseeing the governor."
Recently, the British governnt had begun reorganizing Canada's administration, consolidating several territories under a single colonial structure.
But the governor still operated within strict legal constraints.
Those limitations would never allow to implent my long-term plans.
"I see," Wellesley said slowly.
"As Foreign Secretary alone, you cannot directly influence colonial administration."
"And if you plan to relocate large numbers of Irish settlers, you'll need considerable authority."
"Exactly."
"If every decision requires committees and approval from London, the process will take years."
"Local discretion is essential."
"Then it's settled," Wellesley declared.
"When Parliant opens, I'll have the party establish a temporary office granting you full authority over Canadian affairs."
"Five years should suffice."
"That will cover the entire immigration program."
"Thank you," I said with a smile.
"It's always pleasant working with a Pri Minister who understands so well."
Wellesley laughed and raised his glass of whiskey.
"Your success is my success—and mine is yours."
"I look forward to seeing what remarkable results you produce next."
With the new governnt finalized, Wellesley looked visibly relieved.
As for —
The opportunity to expand my influence in Canada was better than I had hoped.
The two of us continued discussing policy late into the evening.
Soon, the headlines appeared.
"British Empire Announces Massive Irish Immigration Policy!"
"Millions of Irish Expected to Move to Canada!"
"Will This Spark Border Conflicts in North Arica?"
Across the Atlantic, the news caused imdiate alarm.
One country, in particular, could not ignore it.
The United States of Arica.
A nation barely seventy years old—
Yet convinced that the New World belonged to them.
"What are the British up to now?" one Arican politician muttered.
"England has always despised the Irish."
"Are they simply dumping them in Canada?"
"I've heard sothing about a famine," another said.
"But it's unclear whether that's true—or rely an excuse."
"Where is the ambassador?"
"We should have received a report imdiately!"
The United States Congress quickly convened.
"We must first determine Britain's intentions," soone said.
"What does the President say?"
"He agrees we should send soone to investigate imdiately."
"In that case," an elderly man said, raising his hand,
"allow to go."
The room turned toward him.
"Congressman Adams?" soone asked.
"Are you certain your health will allow it?"
"Of course," the old man replied.
"I've long wanted to visit the British Empire."
The man standing before them was John Quincy Adams.
The sixth President of the United States, now serving in Congress even in retirent.
Despite his age, his eyes burned with determination.
Whatever Britain was planning—
Arica would never surrender control of the New World.
And for once—
The divided Arican political parties agreed completely.
That very day, Congress unanimously approved John Quincy Adams's mission to Britain.
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