If potato blight spreads, regions that depend on potatoes as their staple food will suffer catastrophic damage.Therefore, a commission shall be formed to investigate the disease and prepare countermeasures.
The House of Lords raised no objections to the decision passed by the Commons, and the related legislation sailed through almost immediately.
In truth, no one needed to ask which regions relied on potatoes as their staple food.
There was nowhere in England, Wales, or Scotland where the overwhelming majority of people lived entirely on potatoes.
Ireland, however, was another matter entirely.
Those who had privately believed that Britain should not go out of its way to assist Ireland were visibly bewildered.
They had fully expected the Lords to reject or at least delay the bill once or twice.
The fact that it passed without resistance caught them completely off guard.
The commission would consist of two branches.
One group would travel to Ireland to investigate its agricultural structure and population distribution while preparing local countermeasures.
The other would head to the New World to study the potato blight directly.
Naturally, the members selected for both groups would be people heavily influenced—if not outright chosen—by me.
Even so, there would always be dissenters.
Why should precious taxes be wasted on those Irish beggars? Let them starve.
Shockingly, this was not a fringe opinion.
There were enough people who thought that way to form a genuine political bloc.
Which was why I had prepared a distraction.
A very effective one.
The purge of the opium merchants.
Newspapers exploded with headlines.
The Terrible Effects of Opium: A Drug That Destroys the Human Mind
Ten Reasons Opium Is More Dangerous Than Whiskey
Shocking Revelation: Opium Traders Caught Plotting to Seize War Indemnities
As if coordinated, newspapers across the political spectrum—both pro-Conservative and pro-Whig—began attacking the opium merchants relentlessly.
Most readers paid far more attention to those sensational stories than to the situation in Ireland.
Life was already difficult enough.
People naturally gravitated toward villains they could hate without hesitation.
And nothing fueled anger more than the revelation that opium traders had attempted to claim the indemnities won from China.
Indemnities paid with British blood.
"My son risked his life in that war, and you expect that money to go to drug dealers?"
"You think our soldiers fought for the sake of your profits?"
"I read in The Times that they're trying to sell opium here now!"
"What? Are they insane? The government must protect citizens from opium!"
In the original timeline, some opium that could no longer be sold in China eventually flowed into Britain itself.
It was something that needed to be prevented anyway.
If the same operation could simultaneously redirect public attention, all the better.
Two birds with one stone.
Still, even when everything proceeded according to plan, that did not mean every development was welcome.
Is the Whig Party Still Viable?
That was the title of today's editorial in the Morning Chronicle, a newspaper known for its Whig sympathies.
The headline was so striking that I had instinctively picked up a copy.
The content proved equally interesting.
If the Conservative Party's dominance is to be checked, the Whigs must secure enough seats to present a real threat.Yet the current Whig Party continues to demonstrate that it lacks both the will and the capability to reclaim power.Even in the Commons, the Conservatives dominate the agenda.
For the Morning Chronicle to publish such criticism of the Whigs was remarkable.
It suggested even their own supporters were demanding reform.
The article continued.
The recent war with China provides a clear example. The Conservative cabinet not only achieved victory but managed to distance the war from the moral stain of opium. At the same time, their diplomacy secured immense benefits for the nation.
I raised an eyebrow.
It was rare to see a Whig-leaning paper praise the Conservative government so openly.
The editorial pressed on.
The same pattern continues in domestic affairs. The Conservatives heard only rumors of potato blight yet immediately recognized the potential disaster for Ireland's agricultural system. Meanwhile the Whigs have failed to unify even their own opinions.
Even the issue now troubling citizens—the opium problem—is being driven by Conservative initiative.
Some will argue the Whigs lack the parliamentary numbers to lead. But lacking seats is not the same as lacking insight.
The next election may already be unwinnable. Yet even if the Whigs aim for the one after that, do they possess the leadership required?
The Conservatives boast rising young figures such as Charles Wellesley, Benjamin Disraeli, and Killian Gore.
Who among the Whigs can match them?
The article concluded sharply.
Today's news reports that Lord Palmerston and Mr. John Russell have been arguing internally over sanctions against opium merchants.
That fact alone requires no further commentary.
I whistled quietly.
Whoever wrote this certainly did not hold back.
But the admiration vanished the moment I saw the author's name.
"Charles Dickens."
For a moment I simply stared.
The most celebrated writer of the Victorian age.
Already hailed as a genius after the success of Oliver Twist.
And here he was—writing political editorials that casually mentioned my name.
The feeling was oddly flattering.
And slightly embarrassing.
If I ever met him in person, I would definitely ask for an autograph.
Still, Dickens clearly possessed sharp instincts.
He was correct.
The Whigs currently lacked competitiveness.
At this rate, the next election would likely wipe out half their remaining seats.
Combined with Conservative dominance in the Lords, that would give the Conservatives overwhelming legislative control.
Which was…
Not ideal for me.
"I can't allow a situation where we maintain a majority even without Irish seats…"
The most desirable scenario was a hung Parliament.
Ideally one where the Whigs held a slightly larger bloc.
But the current trend pointed toward overwhelming Conservative dominance.
Ironically, the problem was that we had succeeded too well.
Our opponents simply could not keep up.
I had even gathered leverage against figures like Viscount Melbourne and Lord Russell for future use.
Instead of deploying it, I now found myself hoping they would somehow regain their strength.
Within ten years I could secure decisive influence over Ireland and Canada.
By then Charles Wellesley would dominate the Commons.
Until that time, however, the Whigs needed to remain a credible opposition.
Unfortunately, they were failing miserably.
"Perhaps I should rebalance things slightly…"
I considered various possibilities.
Perhaps implicating a few prominent Conservatives in the opium purge.
No.
That would only strengthen Robert Peel's reputation as a ruthless reformer willing to cut down his own allies.
I needed something more subtle.
Something that would weaken Conservative prestige while revitalizing the Whigs—without harming me.
Just as I was thinking this over, my visitor arrived.
The door opened.
"Killian. Are you in?"
"Yes. Come in. It's been a while since we spoke privately, Senior."
William Gladstone stepped into the room, offering a weary smile.
"Still calling me that?"
"Once classmates, always classmates."
Back at Eton, he had occasionally provided me with useful information.
For that alone I owed him some gratitude.
William Gladstone dropped into the chair across from me.
His eyes fell on the newspaper on my desk.
"You read that editorial too, I see."
"Hard to ignore when the Empire's most famous writer is tearing the Whigs apart."
"And praising you in the process."
I shrugged.
"Probably just the first names that came to mind."
"But the conclusion remains the same," William Gladstone said quietly. "Compared to you, Charles, and Benjamin… I barely exist within the Conservative Party."
That explained his expression.
"Senior members of the party don't seem very fond of me either."
"Why not?"
"Because I speak inconvenient truths and oppose them when necessary."
"Then ignore them. Old men always complain."
"That's easy for you to say. You're central to the Wellesley faction. For me… the situation is less comfortable."
His tired gaze settled on me.
"What do you think, Killian?"
"If I left the Conservative Party…"
"…would you consider me a traitor?"
William Gladstone leaving the Conservatives?
Historically, that was hardly shocking.
But politically…
I paused.
Then realization struck.
He had already made up his mind.
Which meant this was not a hypothetical question.
Just moments ago I had been searching for a way to weaken the Conservatives and strengthen the Whigs.
And now—
The perfect instrument had walked through my door.
Kensington Palace
At the same time, in the audience chamber of Kensington Palace—
"The situation in society has become quite turbulent, Your Majesty."
Victoria listened with an expressionless face as advisers presented their concerns.
"In times like these, the monarchy must remain steady. Numerous marriage proposals have been declined. May we ask the reason?"
"I see no reason to marry at present."
"But Your Majesty…"
Their anxious faces made irritation surge within her.
Still, she suppressed it.
Their argument was not entirely wrong.
The Queen producing a legitimate heir would strengthen the monarchy.
"Among the candidates presented so far," one adviser asked cautiously, "was there no one who appealed to Your Majesty?"
"If there had been, I would not have rejected them."
Most candidates were impressive on paper.
Prince Alexander of the Netherlands.
Duke William of Brunswick.
Prince Ernest of Leiningen.
Prince George of Cambridge.
French royal princes.
All respectable.
All powerful.
None acceptable.
If someone more handsome, more capable, and more devoted than Killian appeared, perhaps she would reconsider.
But until then—
The answer would remain the same.
Still, simply rejecting every proposal created an awkward image.
It would be better to eliminate the issue entirely.
These advisers seemed to believe that invoking the state's condition justified their demands.
They had forgotten one thing.
Victoria had learned political rhetoric from the best possible teacher.
"Your concerns are understood," she said calmly. "But if I must search for a suitable husband, that process will take time."
"Of course, Your Majesty. Such matters require careful investigation—"
"The nation has suffered greatly from the economic crisis originating in the New World. Many citizens still struggle.
Meanwhile Britain has fought a war in Asia.
Now we face warnings of famine in Ireland and narcotics entering our country."
"Yes, which is why the monarchy must remain stable—"
"No," Victoria said firmly.
"The opposite."
The advisers blinked.
"How can the Queen indulge in courtship while her people suffer?"
Now was the moment.
The perfect argument.
One that would silence marriage pressure while elevating the monarchy's popularity.
Victoria spoke with unyielding conviction.
"I hereby declare: until the nation's current crises are resolved, I will not turn my eyes away from the suffering of my people."
"Y-Your Majesty… does that mean—?"
"Yes.
Until these problems are addressed, I shall consider myself already married—
to the British Empire itself.
And I will share the hardships of my people."
In other words:
Anyone who continued to pressure her about marriage would appear indifferent to the welfare of the nation.
An unassailable argument.
As the stunned advisers stared at her, Victoria's eyes gleamed with triumph.