In the early nineteenth century, grand triumphal celebrations were actually quite rare in Britain.
Victorious commanders and soldiers were certainly showered with honor and public admiration when they returned from war. Most officers and soldiers received medals commemorating their courage and service, and commanders were often rewarded with titles and even landed estates.
The most famous example was Arthur Wellesley, who became the Duke of Wellington and was granted Apsley House—an enormous mansion built on some of the most valuable land in London.
Of course, no one considered the recent war with Qing China to be a triumph on the same level as the Napoleonic Wars.
Even so, the government decided to hold an unusually large victory parade. The decision was driven by several political calculations.
First, the cabinet and the ruling party wanted to publicize the victory as widely as possible and raise their own approval along with it.
Considering the indemnities and territorial concessions Britain had extracted, the war had been extraordinarily profitable. Frankly, not advertising such a success would have been stranger.
But if they celebrated victory in the traditional way, most of the glory would naturally go to the supreme commander alone.
So instead, they framed it differently.
This victory belonged to everyone.
The soldiers who fought in the war.The entire British Army.And the Parliament and government that had supported them to the very end.
A grand parade was therefore the perfect way to share the credit.
There was also another intention behind it.
Britain had now become, beyond any doubt, the most powerful nation in the world.
It was the perfect opportunity to fill the public with a healthy dose of imperial pride.
"WAAAAAAAH!"
"Minister! You're amazing!"
"You're so handsome!"
Whatever the precise reasons, the victory procession marched through the streets of London in spectacular fashion.
And naturally, its final destination was Kensington Palace, where the Queen resided.
"WAAAAAAAH!"
As the marching soldiers passed before the palace and the royal family watching from above, the cheers reached their peak.
Even for me—across both my previous life and this one—this was a completely new experience.
My heart was pounding slightly.
The ridiculous rumors about my supposed marriage had confused me for a moment, but I had already sent a letter to the palace clarifying everything. Victoria must have received it by now.
As the distance between us closed, I saluted the Queen with a light heart.
Victoria returned the gesture with a radiant smile.
But something felt…
Strange.
Did the letter somehow not arrive?
That seemed unlikely.
"On behalf of the British Crown," Victoria said clearly, "I extend my deepest gratitude to the minister and the soldiers who traveled to distant Asia and elevated the prestige of the British Empire."
"It is our greatest honor to serve Your Majesty, this nation, and its people."
While exchanging the customary words, I discreetly studied her expression.
Yes.
Her mouth was smiling.
But her eyes were not.
Why?
I had clearly explained that the marriage rumor was false.
Had something else happened?
Still, judging by my long experience reading people, she wasn't truly angry.
It was more like… mild irritation.
If the letter had failed to arrive entirely, her reaction would have been far colder.
Something small must have happened after that.
Fortunately, nothing troublesome occurred afterward.
As the endless lines of soldiers marched past, citizens from all over Britain continued to shower them with cheers and congratulations.
The lavish victory celebration prepared by Parliament and the government ended in tremendous success.
For a half-Irish nobleman like me, this was almost the highest level of honor one could receive.
But in truth—
This was only the beginning.
The parade was merely ceremonial.
The real game had yet to begin.
I still needed to meet the powerful figures of this country face-to-face and gauge their intentions.
Apparently some newspapers had even started calling me "Killian D. Gore," attaching the Tokugawa name to mine.
Seriously, were they out of their minds?
Ordinary citizens might believe such nonsense, but how the political elites would interpret this "Will of D."-style rumor was another matter entirely.
And on top of that—
The sudden marriage scandal.
Actually…
Looking at the overall situation, those two controversies were probably part of the same chain of events.
I had finally returned to what felt like home.
Yet somehow, life had become even more complicated than before.
Some victorious general I was.
At this rate, peaceful days were probably far away.
Buckingham Palace
The victory banquet held after the parade took place not at Kensington Palace but at Buckingham Palace.
It made sense.
Buckingham was simply better suited to hosting the leaders of every major faction in society.
The grand ballroom had recently been renovated and was now more magnificent than ever.
Under golden canopies and dazzling chandeliers, the highest elites of the British Empire gathered—and their interest in me was far more intense than before.
"Minister, have you considered publishing a book about the diplomatic negotiations?" someone asked. "My brother runs a publishing house. If you're interested, perhaps we could collaborate."
"That might be worth considering someday," I replied. "But at the moment, I'm far too busy."
"I see, I see. Please do visit us when you have time."
Book deals.
Companies eager to expand into the newly acquired treaty ports.
And even the lingering issue of opium.
The questions came endlessly, far more aggressively than before.
Just as my head began to spin—
A familiar voice saved me.
"Her Majesty the Queen!"
At the attendant's booming announcement, the pack of social hyenas surrounding me instantly scattered.
At the top of the staircase stood Victoria, wearing a brilliant sapphire silk gown.
Everyone—including me—bowed respectfully.
The attendant continued.
"Her Majesty Queen Victoria will share the first dance with the hero of tonight's celebration—Foreign Secretary Killian Gore."
Since becoming queen, Victoria had attended many official events.
But she had never opened a ball by dancing first with me.
And understandably so.
No matter how famous I had become in Ireland, I was hardly someone a reigning queen would normally choose as her first partner.
If she had done so before today, every newspaper in Britain would have exploded the next morning.
But now—
No one seemed surprised.
No whispers.
No shocked expressions.
Instead, the crowd quietly parted like the Red Sea.
Making a path for me.
I walked up the stairs.
Ten years had passed since I first arrived in Britain.
Long or short—it depended on how you looked at it.
But it was enough time to rise to the center of the stage.
I knelt slightly before Victoria and offered my hand.
If she was still angry, this might get awkward.
But fortunately, she only smirked and took my hand.
"There are a lot of people watching," she murmured. "If you make a mistake, they'll be disappointed."
"Compared to the pressure I felt when I first took office," I said, "this is nothing, Your Majesty."
As we descended together, the orchestra began a soft waltz.
Victoria spoke brightly.
"Well then, Minister. Shall we dance?"
"It would be my greatest honor."
Any nobleman was expected to learn ballroom dancing.
I had practiced diligently.
I might not be exceptional, but I was confident I wouldn't embarrass myself.
Still—
Dancing alone in front of such a massive audience was… a little awkward.
Victoria, on the other hand, looked perfectly relaxed.
When we drew closer during the dance, she even teased me.
"You're better than I expected. You must have practiced a lot."
"I couldn't possibly disgrace Your Majesty."
"You haven't danced with any women other than me, have you?"
"Of course not."
"Really? That's surprising for a man rumored to be getting married."
"That rumor is false. I've been in Asia the entire time—how could I possibly find a bride?"
Victoria probably already knew that.
But she wanted to hear it from my mouth.
She smiled quietly, satisfied.
Then, as the music ended, she leaned closer and whispered.
"You know… all these rumors are your fault."
What?
It's not like I've been flirting with half of London.
If anything, the problem is the opposite.
If I pushed things too openly, Victoria herself might cause a political catastrophe.
But Victoria simply smiled mysteriously and ended the dance.
Thunderous applause erupted.
The Queen had opened the ball.
Now the real party began.
Couples stepped forward to dance.
I glanced around, then asked Victoria,
"Your Majesty, who will you dance with next?"
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "since tonight celebrates our minister's achievements… I think I'd like to continue praising him. That's acceptable, isn't it?"
"You mean… you intend to stay with me for the entire ball?"
"Of course. I've already confirmed it with the attendants. There's no problem."
Fair enough.
The ball existed to celebrate my achievements, after all.
And having Victoria beside me would conveniently keep the social vultures away.
"Then shall we sit for a moment and have a drink?"
"A splendid idea," she said. "Let's move to the next room. Tonight we'll enjoy wine while listening to your heroic stories from China."
She walked toward the exit with a cheerful step.
I followed.
But just as we were leaving—
A voice called out.
"Oh my, Minister. I've been hoping to meet you."
I turned.
A dark-haired noblewoman stood there with a young woman beside her.
"Frances Anne Vane," she said brightly. "The Marchioness of Londonderry."
Ah.
That explained everything.
And behind me—
Victoria's warm voice floated in.
"Marchioness of Londonderry, I believe you said you wished to speak with the minister? I almost forgot."
My instincts screamed.
This was a trap.
And Victoria was enjoying every second of it.