Chapter 32
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Victoria (2)
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For Victoria, the visit to Eton was, in truth, rather uninspiring.
She had initially held high expectations, hearing it was a school where the finest elites of the British Empire gathered.
She had hoped for a chance to have lively conversations with the students who would one day lead the nation, but that, as expected, proved to be a vain dream.
Naturally, the school visit consisted mostly of being welcomed by the headmaster and teachers and touring empty buildings and vacant classrooms.
The one poignant moment was during the welcome speech when she heard how much her father, the Duke of Kent, who had passed away when she was just a year old, had supported the school.
But after that, nearly every official event was orchestrated by her mother, the Duchess of Kent, as always, and Victoria's heart grew cold.
“Baron, the stairs there are high. Please stay close behind Victoria so she does not fall.”
“Yes, Duchess.”
“This meat is a bit tough. Could you please ask for a more tender piece? Our Victoria might get an upset stomach.”
“Yes, Duchess.”
“And this...”
Just look at her.
There she goes again, never tiring of it.
Her mother treated her as if she were a glass cup that would shatter at the slightest touch.
*Do not climb the stairs alone, you might fall, hit your head, and die.* She wanted to ask if her mother was being serious.
At this point, one could only marvel at her imagination.
The Duchess of Kent considered nearly every possible scenario in which young Victoria could suffer a fatal accident, constricting her every move.
Whenever the Duchess’s “consider-all-possibilities” routine began, Victoria felt less like a person and more like some incompetent thing.
“Mother, the meal is quite delicious. And the student classroom we saw earlier had a very classical feel.”
“Did it? Well, it wasn't terrible, but there was quite a bit of dust. They cleaned it because you were coming, but the facilities are so old. What if you were to fall ill from breathing such poor air? We must stay outdoors this afternoon.”
“...If a brief moment in there was enough for me to fall ill, then the students being educated here would all be in their graves by now.”
“You can't compare sturdy boys with a delicate girl like you.”
Of course, of course. Whatever you say.
No matter what she said, it always came back to ‘be careful with your body,’ so now she was half-resigned to just letting things be.
“What is the schedule for this afternoon?”
“There's a cricket match between the boys. We'll watch that for a bit, then call a few of the most outstanding students to have tea with us. Your mother will take care of everything, so you just enjoy yourself.”
“Yes, Mother.”
To be honest, she wasn't particularly fond of cricket.
If she had to choose, she much preferred watching horse racing and even dreamed of owning a racehorse in the future.
Of course, thanks to her mother's fussiness, she couldn't even get near a horse, let alone a racehorse.
“Ah, speaking of which, Mother, did you know? Lady Cecilia's nephew is a student here.”
“Really? Now that you mention it, yes. I do recall hearing that. I should have looked for him when all the students were out earlier. I was told he's of mixed blood, so it would have been noticeable if I'd looked closely.”
“Indeed.”
She didn't let it show, but she had already spotted the person she was curious about the moment she stepped out of the carriage.
She had glanced at him discreetly while pretending to look over the students, so it shouldn't have been obvious.
The student named Killian probably hadn't even noticed he had caught her attention.
‘Just as the lady said, he certainly has a striking appearance. I can see why she dotes on her nephew.’
At first, she thought his mixed heritage would be very apparent, but surprisingly, it wasn't.
His Irish blood seemed much more dominant; a casual observer might not even realize he was of mixed heritage.
On closer inspection, one might say there was just a spoonful or two of Eastern features mixed in.
Thanks to this, his appearance was not just handsome but also exuded an exotic mystique.
He was said to be a year younger than her, which would make him about thirteen. In a few years, he would surely capture the attention of women wherever he went.
After the meal, as they were resting, John Keate approached and bowed respectfully to the Duchess.
“The students have gathered on the field. You may proceed to watch the match now.”
“Good. I trust a shaded canopy has been prepared? The weather isn't hot, but it would be a disaster if our Victoria were to suffer from heatstroke.”
“Of course. All preparations have been made. You may enjoy the match comfortably in a cool spot.”
“Excellent. Victoria, they say it's time. Let us go.”
Her opinion didn't matter anyway, so she had no real choice.
Victoria feigned obedience and rose from her seat.
She wished time would fly by, that this tedious moment would simply vanish from her life.
Victoria was waiting for the day she would come of age, wishing it would arrive a day sooner.
* * *
*Crack!*
“Woooooah!”
“Run! Run!”
“Catch it! Catch it quickly!”
“The Princess is watching! We have to win!”
As expected, the field, which resembled a battlefield, was filled with the unending shouts of the male students.
Any member of the British upper class would harbor the romantic notion of wanting to look impressive before their beautiful queen.
The students, as if determined not to miss this rare opportunity, threw the ball and swung their bats like demons obsessed with victory.
Unfortunately, according to a reliable source of mine, Victoria had little interest in cricket.
In fact, she wasn't someone who showed much interest in any active sports besides horse racing.
So, it was highly likely she couldn't care less about who was playing well or who was winning.
In other words, those guys out there, desperately obsessed with winning, were just wasting their energy on a fool's errand.
Of course, that didn't mean it was okay to play poorly.
Even someone who isn't a huge fan of sports can generally tell if a player is skilled or not.
However, at thirteen years of age and having only recently learned cricket, I couldn't become a cricket god no matter how much special training I received from a private tutor.
After considering it from all angles, I concluded that it was impossible, even with my past life's experience enjoying baseball.
So, I chose to focus my efforts elsewhere.
*Crack!*
“Nice one, Killian! Run!”
“Wow, that guy's swing is really stylish. Did he spend all his time practicing his form instead of playing the game?”
“No way. He's not the type to be obsessed with just looking good.”
I'm sorry to say, but that "no way" was exactly right.
I was doing all this to make a good impression on the future queen, so naturally, I had to choose the most optimal method.
Why would I engage in the inefficient task of foolishly obsessing over victory and personal performance?
While my naive schoolmates were engaged in such pointless efforts, I poured all my time into honing skills that would catch her eye.
A clean bat swing, controlling my expression so it never contorted even while sprinting, and even the motion of wiping away sweat as elegantly as possible.
The expensive private tutor I hired had a "what kind of person is this" reaction, but since he was being paid, he faithfully trained me in the way I desired.
Furthermore, when on defense, I selected a position where my face would be most visible from Victoria's viewing angle and never strayed far from it.
This might have made it seem like I wasn't focused on the game, but I also acted as if I were giving it my all, so no one suspected my true intentions.
Honestly, I didn't think I could win her favor with something like this, but if it could leave even a speck of a good impression, what was the harm?
Until the very end of the match, I struggled desperately to maintain an elegant and aristocratic appearance.
When I stole a few glances her way, I felt that Victoria was looking in my direction quite often, though I couldn't be sure if it was just my imagination.
Yes. This makes all the hard work worthwhile.
“Wow... that Killian is one tough nut.”
“We're running ourselves to death, but how does he not even grimace once during the whole game?”
The half-praise, half-bewilderment from my schoolmates as the game ended was a bonus.
Good. It was natural.
* * *
After the dynamic cricket match concluded, the Duchess of Kent and Victoria proceeded to the scheduled tea time.
John Keate reviewed the record book with the students' grades and announced the names of the top performers from each block.
“If they are top students at Eton, they are talents who will contribute to the development of this country no matter which field they enter in the future. If Your Grace were to encourage them, they would strive even harder, and there could be nothing better for the nation's future.”
“I agree it is a fine sentiment. However, neither I nor Victoria have much time to meet with five children individually. How about we meet with just one or two?”
“If that is the case... how would you like to select them?”
“Victoria, what do you think?”
Victoria wondered why her mother was asking for her opinion for a change, but she knew the reason well.
She had seen her mother stifle a yawn behind her hand while watching the cricket match.
The current schedule was probably not very entertaining for her.
The decision to see only one or two students was likely born from a desire to leave this place quickly and move on to somewhere more interesting.
Still, for Victoria, being given the choice wasn't a bad thing.
It would give her a natural opportunity to become acquainted with the person she wanted to speak to.
“A new student and a graduating student would be good, I think. For the new student, it would be an encouragement to do well in their school life, and for the graduating student, it would be motivation to continue striving even after leaving school.”
“Exactly, isn't it? That's what I thought as well. Mr. Keate, did you hear? We shall meet them that way.”
“Yes. I will bring the two students at once.”
“Ah, wait. Before that, I shall meet the children separately. If there is any chance they might have a negative influence on our Victoria, however slight, we will unfortunately have to give the opportunity to another student.”
In a way, it was an offensive thing to say to the Head Master of Eton, but Keate simply smiled with resignation.
The Duchess's fussiness was something even the King of this nation had thrown up his hands at; what could the Head Master or a student of Eton do?
“Then I will arrange for you to meet them beforehand, Duchess. First, the most outstanding new student is Killian Gore. He is a truly brilliant prodigy. Classics, literature, mathematics—he is a remarkable boy who has never missed first place in any subject.”
“What a coincidence. I know of that boy. He is the nephew a dear friend of mine is always boasting about. Still, one can never be too sure, so I shall see him first.”
The Duchess of Kent rose from her seat alone and entered a separate room.
After a short wait, the handsome boy who had stood out during the cricket match was seen entering cautiously.
The Duchess of Kent was once again inwardly surprised.
His posture and form during the game had been so perfect and elegant that her eyes had been drawn to him, and to think that boy was Cecilia's nephew.
The boy closed the door behind him and offered a greeting with impeccably polite posture.
“It is an honor to meet you, Duchess of Kent. I am Killian Gore, eldest son of Arthur Gore, the Earl of Arran.”
“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you. I don't know if you are aware, but I am very close with your aunt, Cecilia. We are neighbors, living in the same Kensington Palace.”
“Yes, I am aware. I have often heard my aunt praise the Duchess's wisdom and intellect.”
“Oh, is that so? Now you've made me a little curious. I wonder what she, who dotes on her nephew so, has truly said about me.”
Killian's gaze shifted slightly as he scanned the room.
Even after confirming that the two of them were alone, Killian scratched his head, feigning slight embarrassment.
“Well... this is actually a very private matter, and a rather delicate subject... but would it be alright for me to speak of it?”
“It's fine, go on.”
Could it be that she says such sweet things to my face but speaks ill of me to her nephew behind my back?
No, even if that were true, a prodigy who is always first at Eton wouldn't be tactless enough to confess it to my face.
Just as her curiosity and impatience had properly ripened, Killian continued in a hushed tone.
“His Majesty's health is not so good, which worries people, but my aunt said that as long as the Duchess is here, things will be alright... She said she often thinks that. That you are just that wise and thoughtful.”
“Ah...!”
It was a topic that could, depending on the circumstances, be seen as infinitely disrespectful, but the Duchess of Kent composed her breathing to suppress the corners of her mouth from turning up.
If the current king were to pass away, Victoria, first in the line of succession, would become queen, but she still had several years until she came of age.
Therefore, if Victoria were to ascend the throne before reaching adulthood, the Duchess of Kent would naturally gain the right of regency.
However, few people spoke of such things openly, and even when they did, it was always in roundabout ways.
Yet, for her to have said something so blatant, even to a nephew she treated like a son.
Didn't this prove that her words to the Duchess weren't just empty flattery? It felt sincere.
“Yes. I am very grateful she speaks so highly of me.”
The Duchess of Kent cleared her throat, pretending to be as composed as possible, and gave a slight nod.
But it was difficult to suppress the smile that kept trying to form, so she subtly raised her fan to cover her face.
An illegitimate child with Eastern blood, though still a noble. Add a rather sharp mind to that, and the conditions weren't bad.
He might just become a useful tool.
The Duchess looked at Killian's unchanged expression and gave him a kind smile.