Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Goodbye Edward (2)
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1910 May 17.
The coffin of Edward VII, which had been laid in state in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace under the guard of the Household Troops, was placed on a carriage drawn by black horses and headed toward Westminster Abbey, just as his mother Queen Victoria had.
As Britons gathered from across the country watched the final procession of the jolly fat man who had splendidly led the British Empire through the turmoil following the death of the great Queen Victoria, Edward VII's family and his beloved dog Caesar followed behind the King.
When the carriage finally arrived at Westminster Abbey, George V and Wilhelm II, along with his sons and nephews, carried the heavy-looking coffin of Edward VII into the abbey.
Afterward, the royals, led by George V, offered a brief prayer and departed Westminster Abbey. From the 17th to the 19th, the abbey was opened to the public for three days in total.
Over 400,000 Britons made their way to Westminster Abbey to pay their respects to their great king, and once the last mourner had left and the doors closed, the main funeral service finally began on May 20, 1910.
Paa~ppababa~bam~
Amid the sounds of the pipe organ and the choir in the abbey, the attending royals and nobles sat in reverent silence as Randall Davidson, the 96th Archbishop of Canterbury and the highest cleric of the Church of England, opened his mouth to speak.
"His Majesty Edward VII, King of Great Britain and Ireland and Emperor of India, vowed at the age of 59 to devote his life to the British Empire."
The Archbishop of Canterbury's sermon continued for a long time.
As if he didn't want to let Edward VII, lying in the coffin, depart.
But now it was time to send the king on his way, and the Archbishop knew it too, so he concluded his sermon with regret.
"The king left our side far too soon, but the achievements he left behind and his love for Britain and the British people will remain with us forever in the name of God and Jesus Christ."
"Amen."
Bam~ppabam~ppaam~
As the Archbishop of Canterbury finished his sermon, the royal household servants blew their trumpets in unison.
And the final singing of the national anthem for Edward VII began.
"God save our gracious King. Long live our noble King. God save the King!"
Beneath the resounding anthem, Edward VII departed from our midst forever.
May he fare well in the afterlife.
"Father insisted we not call the doctor, clenching his teeth and saying, 'No, I won't give in. I'll keep going. I'll work until the end.' And then he fainted right away. Honestly, I thought he'd passed then."
After the funeral service, Edward VII's coffin was loaded onto the royal train and brought to Windsor Castle in Berkshire, where it was interred in St. George's Chapel alongside his ancestors and descendants.
A modest (by royal standards) memorial banquet was then held at Windsor Castle to honor the king.
"But just as we panicked and tried to fetch someone, he opened his eyes again. And he asked me, 'George, who won the Derby today?'"
"Hahahahaha!"
"So I said, 'Witch of the Air, your horse, Father, won!' And Father broke into a huge grin, saying, 'Oh, that's splendid!' Only then did he close his eyes with a satisfied look."
"Wahahahaha!!"
"That's just like him!"
"Yes, that's our jolly Edward!"
Everyone at the banquet burst into laughter at George V's words.
In European high society, memorial gatherings like this involved sharing amusing anecdotes about the departed to console one another amid the grief of loss.
And Edward VII, true to his nickname "jolly fat man," had no shortage of entertaining stories.
"Ah, I can't help but laugh until I cry. I already miss Uncle Edward so much."
"Me too, Your Highness."
"May our tubby Edward rest in peace."
"Yes, may he rest in peace."
It had been a while since the Middle Olympics, but Crown Prince Constantine of Greece and I clinked glasses as we toasted Edward VII.
"Your father still seems lost in conversation as ever."
"He's reuniting with family after so long. Let him enjoy today."
As Crown Prince Constantine said, nearby, his father George I was chatting with his brother King Frederick VIII of Denmark, his sister Queen Alexandra (Edward VII's wife), and his younger sister Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna.
On the other side, George I's fourth son Prince Andrew (father of Lord Louis Mountbatten), King Alfonso XIII of Spain (Edward VII's nephew-in-law), King Albert I of Belgium (Edward VII's sixth cousin), and King Ferdinand I of Bulgaria were deep in conversation.
At a glance, it was a heartwarming scene of royal camaraderie from across Europe, but sadly, Edward VII's funeral was the last such gathering of the world's monarchs and royals.
Many European royal houses would soon vanish due to the impending Great War.
This was yet another tragic twist of history.
For reference, if Edward VII's funeral was the last funeral attended by Europe's monarchs, then Princess Viktoria Luise's wedding was the last such gathering before the war.
Of course, now that I had claimed her affections, who knew how things would play out in this world.
'Come to think of it, I haven't seen Luise around.'
"Your Highness, excuse me for a moment."
"Hm? Ah, of course."
Since arriving in Britain, Luise had seemed quite unwell, which worried me, so I scanned the banquet hall looking for her.
Soon enough, I found her talking with Prince Joachim and Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna Romanova.
"Luise, there you are."
"Ah, Hans."
"Baron."
Luise still looked pale, but she and Grand Duchess Olga—who was three years younger than her—smiled and greeted me.
We had first met when I was a child visiting St. Petersburg, and now, reuniting at this funeral after so long, she had grown into a proper young lady.
"What were you talking about?"
"Father Rasputin."
Of all people.
"From what Olga said, he seems like quite the remarkable man."
Er, well. In a certain sense, he is.
"But it sounds like he's going through a tough time lately."
"Yes, Prime Minister Stolypin and others are all up in arms because they can't torment Rasputin. Why, Priest Hermogenes even beat him with a cross, calling him the Antichrist. He's such a good man—why does everyone hate him so?"
Grand Duchess Olga sighed with pity at Luise's question.
Come to think of it, Nicholas II's daughters actually quite liked Rasputin, contrary to popular belief.
Of course, that was because Rasputin hid his perversions around the Romanov grand duchesses, pretending to be a kind uncle who helped their sickly little brother.
So, at her age, sheltered in the palace and unaware of the outside world, Grand Duchess Olga could only see innocent Rasputin being bullied by others.
"Olga? Come here a moment, dear!"
"Yes, Grandmother. Well, if you'll excuse me, everyone."
While I was lost in thought, Grand Duchess Olga curtsied lightly at Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna's call and hurried off to her grandmother.
"By the way, why is your brother so quiet?"
"I don't know. He clammed up the moment he saw Olga."
Luise and I turned to look at Joachim, who had been standing silently without joining the conversation.
But Joachim's gaze was fixed on Grand Duchess Olga, who was surrounded by his grandmothers' sisters and basking in their adoration.
"Ah, she's so, so pretty."
"...Prince?"
"Hans, I think I'm in love."
"Oh, Lord."
Joachim, Joachim. That path leads nowhere.
It's an impossible love!
"Brother, Olga's younger than both of us, you know?"
"...Is that what you're mad about?"
"Age doesn't matter! Even if she's younger, it's only by three years. So if I wait just three years..."
"Hans, I think Brother's lost it."
"I agree."
"Ugh, my head hurts for some reason. Hans, want to step out?"
At Luise's suggestion, I nodded and left the banquet hall, leaving behind Joachim, who was still grinning like an idiot, stricken by that most vicious affliction called love.
Not that I was in any position to judge him, of course.
"Sissy, feeling any better?"
"Yes, a bit. The fresh air helped."
As we strolled through the gardens of Windsor Castle, Luise seemed improved, flashing a bright smile.
"If you're tired, why not rest inside? You've looked off lately."
"Sorry for worrying you. The funeral just has me all unsettled for some reason."
"I get it. Losing family hits everyone that way."
"That's part of it, but there's more."
As I tilted my head, Luise sat on a bench in the garden gazebo and sighed.
"Remember New Year's, when I said I wished for lasting world peace?"
Oh, right. She had.
With revolutions and wars cropping up nonstop since the year before last, things had been chaotic.
"But then Grandfather Edward passed so soon after, and it feels like the world I knew is slipping away bit by bit."
I gently stroked her back in agreement with her sentiment.
Viktoria Luise had grown up in the Belle Époque.
Even limited to Europe, it was an era of peace and bright hopes for the future.
But happy times pass like fleeting moments, and eventually, the end arrives.
After war clouds had gathered over Europe since the year before last, Edward VII's death signaled the close of Europe's golden age, and Luise seemed to sense it dimly.
"Once you climb high, all that's left is the fall. The era after this one will surely be filled with ashes and blood."
Luise said darkly.
"Hans, what will become of us when that day comes?"
"Scared?"
"Yes. Afraid everything precious will vanish in an instant."
I silently took her trembling hand in mine.
"As you say, Europe will soon be engulfed in flames. A war that will burn everything."
"Hans..."
"But I promise you this: I won't let it happen. I'll stake everything to protect what's dear to us."
That's the only reason I'm here now, the only reason I've lived this long.
"Can you keep that promise?"
"Of course."
At my firm assurance, Luise blushed as her anxiety faded and nestled into my arms.
Her blue eyes met mine, and as if by silent vow, our lips gently touched.
For several minutes, we lost ourselves in the kiss, forgetting for a moment the storms to come and dreaming sweet dreams.
"What in blazes do you think you're doing?!"
"Gah?!"
A thunderous roar struck us from behind.
"...Ah."
Startled apart by the shout, Luise and I gaped dumbstruck at the scene before us.
The Kaiser, Wilhelm II, was trembling with betrayal and fury, glaring at me like he wanted to kill me.
And behind him, Europe's royals had gathered, watching us with amused expressions.
"My goodness..."
"Kuhahat! Baron, so you are a man after all!"
"Young love."
As Grand Duchess Olga covered her blushing cheeks, Crown Prince Constantine roared with laughter, and George V nodded reminiscently of his youth, I closed my eyes, sensing my doom.
I'm screwed.