The dinner at Kensington Palace hosted by Arthur was not held in the main dining room, but rather in a small dining room on the east side of the Rose Hall.
And the number of guests at this dinner was not as many as Arthur had expected. Usually, the Duchess of Kent’s family dinners include not only her and Victoria, but also the Conroy family, and occasionally the Duke of Sussex and Princess Sophia, who also live at Kensington Palace.
But today, perhaps due to Leopold’s visit, Conroy and his family were not invited to dine. The diners at the table were only the Duchess, Leopold, Victoria, and Arthur.
In the evening, the tall windows on the walls of the small dining room were not yet fully closed. The twilight shone through the window bars, reflecting a not so bright warm tone between the silverware and candles.
The table at which the four were seated was covered with a pale pink linen tablecloth, and a line of small glass vases arranged in the center of the table held freshly cut roses from the garden.
The servants silently replaced the tableware, and the pace of serving dishes was perfectly tid, neither leaving the guests’ plates empty nor interrupting the diners’ conversation.
Although the scale of this dinner was small, the cuisine at Kensington Palace remained as exquisite as ever.
The first course was tempting buttered peas paired with fried pigeon eggs, followed by Brittany lobster with champagne cream sauce.
The lobster was bright red and translucent, with the surface crispy and the inside tender, the sauce carrying a trace of delicate white wine aroma.
However, Arthur’s favorite dish was the Scottish roasted lamb chops with rosemary mashed potatoes. The lamb chops were cooked to perfection, with a crispy crust and tender at, served with a small pinch of mint sauce to neutralize the gaminess and greasiness of the lamb.
Of course, this doesn’t an Arthur disliked the desserts at Kensington Palace. The slightly tart almond panna cotta paired with rose jam ice cream was sweet but not cloying, the best refreshing dish for sumr.
"Sir Arthur, when I read the British newspapers recently, I found an editorial saying that trains are the chariots of death, and when the whistle sounds, even the ghosts in the cetery are scared from their sleep." Leopold took a sip of his tonic water and smiled, shaking his head: "What do you think?"
Upon hearing this, Arthur reluctantly put down his knife and fork and his plate of ice cream: "Indeed, there have been quite a few articles attacking the railway in recent years. So say the train’s speed will blend passengers’ brains. Others say the train’s dust will pollute the pastures, and laying the tracks will disrupt the earth’s veins and damage farmland. I rember a few farrs from Manchester recently complained to the Governnt, saying that ever since the Manchester-Liverpool Railway opened, their chickens have stopped laying eggs."
Victoria, who was eating lamb chops, heard this and couldn’t help but blink. With her uncle present, she found herself speaking more at the table today.
Victoria half-seriously asked, "Do trains really make chickens stop laying eggs?"
Arthur pondered seriously for a mont, then shook his head and said: "Without investigation, there is no right to speak. As for the issue of whether chickens lay eggs or not... it’s truly beyond my expertise. You must know, Princess, I used to be a pig farr."
The sowhat discontented Duchess of Kent heard Arthur’s unexpected joke and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Her laughter was not loud, almost just a soft sound drifting out from her nasal cavity.
The Duchess sighed slightly, pointing her knife in Arthur’s direction: "Sir Arthur, honesty might be your virtue, but one mont you’re at Windsor Castle, the next you’re treading into the alleys of the East District; you really can be quite indecent at tis."
"Apologies, Your Highness," Arthur said, apologetically: "I know it’s not quite right, but based on the fundantal literacy of an educator, I believe agricultural issues shouldn’t be embellished. It’s unlike philosophical issues. In philosophy, we can certainly use Hegel’s dialectics, dialectically discuss whether the chicken or the egg ca first. After all, being wrong in dialectics doesn’t have much impact. However, on serious agricultural issues, if a hen isn’t laying eggs, it simply isn’t."
The Duchess of Kent couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at this: "Earlier, I heard from Flora that you were from the Hastings family, and I was skeptical. But now it seems, if you’re not, then who else could be? That stubbornness you have is exactly like Old Marquis Hastings."
Leopold followed up with a question: "Sir Arthur, so in your opinion, does the railway really have a damaging effect on agriculture? I always feel these opinions can’t be unfounded. I even read an article saying that railways will ultimately destroy Britain’s rural society. The article was very emotional; you can tell the author is a true patriot."
As Leopold insisted on digging deeper, Arthur didn’t hide it any further; he lifted his napkin and wiped his mouth: "Your Majesty, whether the article’s author is patriotic, I’m not sure. However, if that article is from Fleet Street... I’m eighty percent sure he must have been paid by the Canal Company."
"Is that so?" Leopold put down his glass of water: "It seems the author of that article falls into the remaining twenty percent then."
Arthur didn’t persist further; he smiled and lifted his glass: "Alright, if you insist..."
Unbeknownst to Arthur, before he finished speaking, Leopold interjected: "Because that article was published in your paper, ’The British’."
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