Victoria listened quietly, her eyelashes lowered, seemingly contemplating how to respond.
Viscount lbourne had anticipated this; after all, in the common perception of society, for a young lady, just appearing in a room full of n would likely cause blushing, fear, giggling, or tears.
And as Britain’s new monarch, Victoria appeared extrely young and inexperienced, with the public knowing very little about her.
Therefore, if she couldn’t establish a reliable and strong first impression at this queen’s "debut eting," then it would be impossible for those high-ranking, powerful, and aged political veterans to take her seriously.
After all, even the Duke of Wellington, a loyal Royalist leader, had once clashed with George IV over the Catholic Emancipation Act. If Victoria couldn’t appear strong enough, and with Conroy stirring up trouble, the long-defunct Regency Bill might be resurrected.
Though the Conservative Party evolved from the Tory Party, with its High Tories being staunch Royalists, their attitude towards a female monarch was rather ambiguous.
If they had a choice, they’d prefer an ambitious and strong-handed monarch, even if he wasn’t truly ambitious, at least he should appear so. In this regard, male monarchs have a clear advantage over female monarchs, which is why the High Tories would rather see the Duke of Cumberland succeed.
As for Victoria’s political leanings, Viscount lbourne was also unsure.
He worried that with the education system crafted by the Duchess of Kent and Conroy, Victoria might be influenced to beco a Radical like Lord Brougham and Earl of Dalmo.
He had taken considerable effort over the past two years to push these two most troubleso mbers out of the British political core.
Lord Brougham had moved to France and the diterranean coast, living a semi-retired life.
As for the Earl of Dalmo, he stepped down as Ambassador to Russia, and in acknowledgnt of his father-in-law being forr Pri Minister Count Grey, Viscount lbourne left him so dignity, assigning him to be the Governor of Canada.
Viscount lbourne was still pondering these matters when, before he could speak, Victoria spoke first.
"Your Excellency, in this ti of national turmoil, I hope you and your cabinet mbers will continue to serve. I hope you will seriously consider my request."
Upon hearing this, lbourne’s fingers trembled slightly. He originally thought he’d have to lay so groundwork, awaiting a probe before hearing this statent. But now Victoria had said it outright, and without hesitation, which genuinely surprised him.
"Her Majesty’s trust is our greatest honor." He bowed, with a trace of undeniable lightness in his tone: "On behalf of the Cabinet, I express to you our sincerest gratitude."
Victoria gently shook her head, her voice was not loud, but every word was distinct: "This is not an honor but a responsibility. For the stability of the country, I must ask you to stay."
Viscount lbourne then took out the already drafted speech: "Your Majesty, forgive my presumption, here is a speech draft prepared in advance by and the Speaker of the Privy Council, Earl of Beesborough. If you indeed need this, you can keep it for reference, hoping it will assist you."
With that, he replaced it with his usual gentle smile, his deanor still graceful: "Or, if you permit, I can accompany you when you et the Privy Council. This way, should you need any advice, I can provide it imdiately."
Victoria instinctively wanted to agree but quickly recalled Arthur’s last words during breakfast: "Your Majesty, the mont they see you walk out, you must walk alone. If you need anything, I’ll be in the audience."
"No need, Your Excellency, I’m no longer a little girl." Victoria shook her head: "However, thank you, but this ti I want to walk alone."
Hearing her firm response, Viscount lbourne was montarily stunned, but then he collected himself, looking solemn.
He bowed deeply to Victoria, then stood up and excused himself: "Then, Your Majesty, may God grant you courage and wisdom."
Victoria nodded gently, not saying more.
She called upon Leisen, waiting by the door, handing her three written letters, and confird the ti again: "Is it a quarter past nine?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Please prepare the black gown and pearl earrings for ."
Leisen seed a bit surprised at the request: "Not this dark blue ceremonial gown?"
"No." Victoria’s tone was calm and assertive: "I want to dress as I said yesterday."
Victoria quickly changed her attire, the black gown trailing on the ground, her hair neatly arranged, just as in yesterday’s dream.
She stood in front of the mirror, looked at herself, and whispered: "I can go downstairs alone."
Behind her, Leisen quietly adjusted her shawl, saying nothing.
...
As Victoria walked through the familiar corridors, sunlight poured between the window panes of Kensington Palace’s west side, casting dappled shadows on the red carpet.
Arthur was standing at the corner, waiting for her, just as during a class break.
In a black tailcoat, with a sword handle polished to a shine, his expression calm and silent.
"Are you ready, Your Majesty?"
Victoria nodded.
Arthur said no more.
He simply bowed slightly to her, stepped back, and watched her step onto that familiar and steep staircase, closely following.
This was the spiral staircase leading to the Red Drawing Room.
She rembered as a young child, whenever she stood at the head of this staircase, her mother would call a maid to help her down, and Conroy would reprimand the maids harshly more than once. Even if she accidentally slipped, she would be severely punished.
Everyone thought her poorly knee should not bear such stairs, she was a little glass princess.
But today, she walked down, step by step. Each stair felt more solid than in her mory, each step seed to shatter past shackles.
No one held her hand, no one supported her.
She knew that beyond the vermilion door downstairs was a gathering of this kingdom’s oldest, most powerful, and most contemptuous of new monarchs.
The political foxes, the royal hounds, the Whitehall gargoyles, and even the likes of Charles Greyville, the Privy Council’s clerk, known for their acerbic wit on court matters.
She had heard their cynical imitations during nurous eavesdrops on the court ladies’ tea parties.
"She’s just a little girl."
"She should be crying."
"How can soone who can’t even steady herself in high heels rule an empire?"
But today, she was not here to respond to these people.
She was here to rule them.
The Kensington Palace attendants at the door were montarily surprised to see her walk up alone, but then realizing sothing, quickly bowed and opened the red doors.
The lights in the Red Drawing Room were all lit, mingling with the sunlight pouring through the tall arched windows, bathing the entire hall in warm golden-red hues. Layers of velvet curtains, gold-plated chair backs, oak paneling, and silver candlesticks, it all felt like a dream from yesterday.
The mont she stepped in, hundreds of eyes anonymously turned towards her.
A slender, fair-skinned young girl, seemingly only fifteen, dressed in a black gown, her hairstyle simple, with a radiant complexion, appearing very clean, this was everyone’s first impression of her.
Yet, she appeared calm, walking steadily, accompanied by no ladies, without her mother’s hand, nor Conroy’s backing, unlike a common noble lady, appearing unconventional, this was everyone’s subsequent evaluation.
She simply ca alone, walked alone to the red velvet chair embossed with the royal crest, and sat down alone.
The instant she sat down, the entire room fell into a surprising silence, everyone held their breath, waiting for her to speak.
Victoria quietly stood up, straightened her back, and scanned the surroundings.
Sunlight shone on the pearl earring by her ear, reflecting a subtle glow.
She unrolled the parchnt in her hand, her voice clear, bright, without a trace of tremor:
"I, Alexandrina Victoria, by the grace of Almighty God, ascend to the throne as Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Defender of the Faith..."
User Comments
0 comments from readers