It wasn't only the colonies that harbored resentment toward the British Empire.
The nation was officially known as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, but the center of power had always been England.
Ireland was not the only region with grievances.
Scotland had its own long list of complaints about how the Empire made its decisions.
Just like Irish nobles, Scottish nobles were not automatically granted seats in the House of Lords. Only a limited number of representative peers could attend.
The population difference between England and Scotland was enormous, so Scottish interests were frequently pushed aside in economic matters.
Recently, religious disputes had begun piling on top of that as well.
And with the winds of industrialization sweeping across the land, new social problems were emerging everywhere.
Yet the British government continued to watch from the sidelines.
Strictly speaking, this wasn't discrimination.
The government ignored similar problems in England itself.
So why would they treat Scotland any differently?
In other words, the neglect was fairly distributed.
But to the people of Scotland, it simply looked like a government unwilling to help.
It was hardly surprising that even in modern times Scotland would occasionally stir talk of independence.
Ireland's anger often overshadowed it, but resentment in Scotland had also been building steadily.
Which meant that after finishing the Irish visit, Victoria traveling to Scotland was almost inevitable.
At first, some had expressed concern.
But the response from locals was overwhelmingly positive.
Victoria's political style was completely different from previous monarchs.
When a queen openly declared she had come to help people facing hardship, who would view that negatively?
No British monarch had ever taken such steps before.
The contrast alone created a powerful impression.
Ireland had been strongly influenced by someone like me, so the reaction there had been more dramatic.
Scotland had no such figure.
But even so, the Scottish nobles and citizens welcomed Victoria sincerely.
There was only one thing I hadn't anticipated.
"Your Majesty, we'll proceed to Inverness now," I said.
"A banquet will be held at Inverness Castle, which was rebuilt a few years ago. You may rest there before passing through Edinburgh and returning to London."
"…Yes."
"Your Majesty?"
"If you're feeling unwell—"
"Oh, no, it's not that," Victoria said quickly.
"I just… have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry."
Ever since the incident at the banquet, Victoria had been avoiding my gaze.
She wouldn't even look at me properly.
Perhaps the kiss on her forehead had been too bold.
But she didn't seem angry.
More likely, her conservative nature meant that even that small gesture had shaken her more than expected.
She simply didn't know how to treat me afterward.
The problem was…
It was painfully obvious.
Even Baroness Lehzen, who had accompanied the Queen, eventually came to speak with me.
"Minister… did something happen between you and Her Majesty?"
"…Excuse me?"
"Well… Her Majesty has never behaved like this before."
"She seems to be avoiding speaking with you lately."
"Now that I think about it, it began after we left Ireland."
"So I wondered if you might know the reason."
"I do," I admitted.
"But has Her Majesty said nothing to you?"
Baroness Lehzen was one of Victoria's closest confidantes.
If even she hadn't been told, then Victoria clearly intended to keep it private.
It wouldn't be right for me to reveal it.
"No," Lehzen said.
"I asked whether you two had quarreled, but she insisted that wasn't the case."
"Still… there seems to be an uncomfortable atmosphere."
"There hasn't been any conflict," I replied.
"But if Her Majesty chose not to mention it, I don't think it would be appropriate for me to explain."
"I understand," Lehzen said quickly.
"I'm sorry for asking such an awkward question."
"But if Her Majesty did something wrong… please try to be patient with her."
"You've known her long enough to understand."
"She isn't the sort of person who easily accommodates others."
That was amusing.
With me, she tried very hard to accommodate.
But perhaps that was not how others saw her.
Then again, a queen was naturally accustomed to others adjusting themselves to her—not the other way around.
The real reason for Victoria's behavior was completely different from what Lehzen suspected.
"I understand," I said.
"If Her Majesty feels uncomfortable about something, I'll do my best to resolve it."
"Thank you," Lehzen sighed.
"You really do work hard, Minister."
"And as you know… our Queen may be stubborn, but she has a good heart."
Apparently Lehzen had already concluded that Victoria had thrown a royal tantrum and I was the unfortunate victim.
Which was understandable.
Who would ever guess that the Queen had nearly lost her composure over a simple kiss on the forehead?
Still, if people around us had begun noticing, I would have to address it eventually.
I tried several times afterward.
But whenever I approached, Victoria would turn red and stumble over her words.
Finding the right moment proved impossible.
Eventually I decided to leave things alone for the time being.
Our schedule left little opportunity to be alone until we returned to London anyway.
Given time, she would calm down.
In public, she performed her duties flawlessly before Scottish nobles and citizens.
So there was no real problem.
In fact, Victoria's visit to Scotland ended with as much praise as her Irish tour.
The first time she finally managed to look me in the eye again was when we boarded the ship in Edinburgh to return to London.
Even then, her face was slightly flushed.
She only said we would finish discussing that matter once we returned to London.
And then she quickly steered the conversation toward official topics.
Thus concluded Queen Victoria's historic visit to Ireland and Scotland.
The innocent romantic episode hidden behind that history would likely never be revealed.
It would remain our secret.
When I teased her about that, Victoria's ears turned bright red.
But what could I do?
Her reaction was simply too entertaining not to provoke.
"Killian! You're finally here!"
"Do you know how long I've been waiting?"
"You've heard everything from Benjamin, haven't you?"
"Yes, yes. I've heard."
My townhouse near Westminster, London.
No sooner had I returned from the tour than I was assaulted by Charles Wellesley—like Nobita summoning Doraemon for help.
Couldn't he at least let me rest one day?
Arriving on the very day I returned was cruel.
I briefly considered ignoring him and going to sleep.
But in the end, I listened.
That had become the usual pattern.
"This time the Prime Minister has really gone too far," Charles Wellesley grumbled.
"After Benjamin left for Ireland, he started making a huge fuss."
"What exactly did he do?" I asked.
"I heard the dispute was about the Canadian Immigration Bill."
"I said exactly what you told me."
"If a million Irish might migrate, Canada's current territory might not be enough. We should expand westward."
"And do you know what he did?"
"He treated me like a fool and publicly opposed me!"
"Claimed it would provoke the Americans."
"Benjamin said several other senior members also opposed it."
"They did!"
"I thought I had somehow joined the Whig Party without noticing."
"The immigration policy has already been decided!"
"If a fellow party member proposes a bill, they should support it—not attack it like that!"
"That's basically saying they intend to restrain me."
Charles continued venting about the party elders for some time.
"So in the end," I said, "you couldn't hold back and fired back."
"I had no choice."
"I have many younger MPs following me. If I bowed to those old men in front of them, our faction would lose face."
"Did I act too rashly?"
"Not at all," I replied.
"You did well."
"The elders probably felt threatened."
"After the opium scandal weakened their position, your influence has been rising."
"And since I was away, they likely thought the opportunity had come."
On the surface, their reasoning even looked respectable.
They could claim they were preventing an inexperienced young politician from provoking conflict with the United States.
It was a clever strategy.
Still…
Robert Peel.
That man had practically begged me to go to Ireland after the previous crisis.
And now he stabbed us in the back the moment I left?
No.
Peel didn't know how closely Charles and I worked together.
He couldn't possibly know the Canadian policy had essentially been written by me.
But the result was the same.
I had been hit from behind as well.
My irritation had already been building since the government forced an impossible ministerial assignment on me.
And now…
Even I was reaching my limit.
"Killian," Charles said.
"Now that I've clashed openly with the Prime Minister, internal reconciliation seems impossible."
"What do you think?"
"I agree," I said.
"I already told Benjamin in Ireland."
"I was considering moderating the situation… but after hearing what you went through, I've lost the desire to compromise."
"Exactly!" Charles Wellesley exclaimed.
"You have no idea how humiliating it was."
"Those old men spoke as if I were a novice who couldn't see the bigger picture."
"I nearly overturned the chamber."
"I'm surprised they dared treat you that way while the Duke of Wellington still sits in the House of Lords," I said.
Perhaps the insults had been wrapped in elegant language.
But for the person receiving them, that often felt even worse.
Apparently defending their power mattered more to them than respecting the Duke's son.
From their perspective, Charles was an unexpected problem.
The Duke of Wellington was a giant in the House of Lords.
His heir would inherit that position.
But his second son, Charles Wellesley, had suddenly begun reshaping the House of Commons.
And he wasn't joining the existing Conservative leadership.
He was building his own faction.
In truth, he should have faced resistance much earlier.
The only reason he hadn't was because he was Wellington's son.
Now that fragile balance had finally broken.
"But now that you're back," Charles Wellesley said, "the Prime Minister won't dare go too far, will he?"
"Lately he can't even speak loudly in your presence."
"After his failed attempt to send you to Asia."
"And I hear your visits to Ireland and Scotland were huge successes."
"He must be watching you carefully now."
"I'll speak with him first," I said.
"But he's probably under pressure from the MPs supporting him."
"So he won't back down easily."
"That's troublesome," Charles Wellesley muttered.
"We can't exactly start a brawl in Parliament."
"Yes, we hold a majority, but if the party splits we can't force legislation through alone."
"The Whigs will decide everything."
"If they support the Prime Minister's side, we could suffer catastrophic losses."
"It will likely become a long war of attrition."
"Is that acceptable?"
"Of course," I said calmly.
"There's no problem."
If the Prime Minister listened to reason, we could settle things peacefully.
If not…
We would simply make him bend.
"But we have no way to remove those old men from Parliament," Wellesley pointed out.
"The next election is still two years away."
"Exactly."
"And they know that."
"They believe neither side can deliver a decisive blow right now."
He paused.
"Well… they believe that."
But I could.
If I didn't know I had the advantage, it would be suicide.
But now O'Connell had joined us completely.
And after the successful tours in Ireland and Scotland, public support was clearly on our side.
So…
"If they feel safe because the election is two years away," I said lightly,
"then we'll simply hold the election now."
Wellesley blinked.
"…Now?"
"That would require the Queen to dissolve Parliament."
"The only way is a vote of no confidence."
"But we don't have the numbers."
"The Whigs would decide the outcome."
"And if they sided with the Prime Minister, we'd be finished."
"It won't happen," I said.
"The Whigs will support us."
"And the motion of no confidence will come from their side first."
If we initiated it ourselves, it might look like a ruling party power struggle.
Better for the opposition to open the battle.
"…You can move the Whigs?" Wellesley asked slowly.
"I'll speak with the Prime Minister first."
"Though sadly… I already know how that conversation will end."
At this point neither side could afford to back down.
And I had no intention of mediating.
"They won't even consider a no-confidence vote," I continued.
"They won't prepare for it."
"That's true," Wellesley said.
"I never imagined it either."
"But how exactly will you move the Whigs—"
He stopped and waved his hand.
"No matter."
"If it's you, I trust it will work."
"I'll gather our supporters and prepare a full offensive."
Good.
That was exactly what I wanted.
Friendship.
Effort.
Victory.
The three essential laws.
"Excellent," I said.
"Then I'll start drafting a letter so the Whigs can be persuaded—"
"Persuaded," I corrected myself.
Charles raised an eyebrow.
"A letter?"
"I thought you'd meet them personally."
"Of course not."
They had no idea I held their weakness.
Why would I reveal myself?
Viscount Melbourne and Lord Russell were already in my grasp.
They had only two choices.
Be exposed as traitors who cooperated with Irish rebels…
Or follow my instructions and help condemn the current Prime Minister.
It was hardly a difficult decision.
I had wondered when the leverage from the last election would become useful.
Now was the perfect moment.
"Oh," I added casually.
"Just in case, I'll make the letter appear to come from you."
"If anyone asks, don't confirm it—just leave them guessing."
"No problem," Wellesley said.
Perfect.
My golden shield.
My defensive wall.
Now all I needed was for him to become the spear that would pierce the enemy.
I would be the one wielding it.
So go on.
Strike boldly.