After spending long enough in the political arena, one inevitably develops a sense for distinguishing who can be trusted and who cannot.
Only recently had John Quincy Adams, now seventy-four years old, come to realize that he had finally acquired that ability.
If he had possessed such discernment in his younger years, he might have accomplished far more during his presidency—and perhaps even secured a second term.
Here in the British Empire, Adams had adopted the persona of a kindly old gentleman.
But in truth, he had always been a suspicious, stubborn man who despised compromise.
Still, he understood that behaving that way in a foreign country would not help him accomplish his goals.
"So," Adams said thoughtfully,
"it seems your immigration policy is motivated by genuine concern for the Irish people."
"Considering your passion for abolishing slavery, it is only natural that you would also devote yourself to the welfare of your homeland."
Killian smiled faintly.
"That's right."
"To be honest, I believe my interest in abolishing slavery comes partly from witnessing the miserable conditions endured by the Irish."
"Officially they are citizens of the British Empire, but in reality many Irish live lives not so different from slaves."
"My hope is that in Canada, at least, they will be able to live as human beings."
The sincerity in Killian's voice was unmistakable.
It did not feel like an act.
Adams had already discussed slavery with him at length.
Killian's arguments had been remarkably progressive, grounded in principles of human rights that were far ahead of their time.
Such clarity could not simply be fabricated.
Even among lifelong abolitionists, Adams had rarely encountered someone whose reasoning was so thoroughly developed.
How should he describe it?
It felt as though Killian was seeing the world slightly ahead of everyone else.
As if he possessed the mindset of someone already living in the future.
Now Adams understood why British diplomats had described Killian as a man difficult to evaluate.
"Then you are confident that the Canadian immigration policy will not cause turmoil in the United States?" Adams asked.
Killian shook his head calmly.
"No one can predict human affairs with absolute certainty."
"But I will personally oversee matters in Canada to minimize such risks."
"If necessary, I will even visit the United States to speak with your President directly."
"I see," Adams said slowly.
"I have heard that during Britain's war with the Qing Empire, you also made great efforts to avoid conflict by accommodating their demands."
The research Adams had conducted beforehand revealed a clear pattern in Killian's character.
He avoided making enemies whenever possible.
He preferred peaceful solutions.
But if negotiations failed—
He struck decisively and crushed his opponent.
In other words, his desire to maintain good relations with the United States was probably sincere.
"To be honest," Killian continued,
"why would our two nations have reason to quarrel anymore?"
"My only goal is to ensure that Canada does not follow the same path as the United States and leave the Empire."
Adams chuckled softly.
"If someone like you had existed earlier, relations between our nations might have turned out quite differently."
Killian shrugged.
"Perhaps."
"But what can we do now? It was a mistake of our own making."
"I intend to learn from those errors and ensure Britain does not repeat them in the Americas."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Between ourselves, I believe the English politicians of that era made a fundamental mistake."
"They assumed their superiority."
"If I had been Prime Minister at the time, I would have granted the American colonies equal status with Britain itself—and given them representation in Parliament."
Adams nodded slowly.
"If that had happened, independence might never have become inevitable."
"It seems your Irish background allows you to understand the perspectives of Canada and the United States more easily."
Killian laughed lightly and nodded.
Adams had almost forgotten that despite his youth, Killian was not English by birth.
He was Irish.
And of mixed heritage at that.
How much prejudice and ridicule must he have endured to climb to such heights?
Perhaps that background explained his deep sympathy for the oppressed.
"Since I will soon be traveling to Canada," Killian continued,
"I expect we will meet again there."
"As for the materials regarding the abolition of slavery, I have already instructed my staff to begin compiling them."
"They will be sent to you as soon as they are ready."
"You have been most generous," Adams replied.
"It is nothing," Killian said modestly.
"If my efforts can assist you even slightly, I will consider it worthwhile."
Afterward, James began outlining in detail various ways he could support Adams' abolitionist movement.
After discussing several proposals and selecting the most practical options, Killian and James eventually took their leave.
From Adams' perspective, the visit had produced an almost perfect outcome.
Both his political objectives and personal interests had been satisfied.
And yet—
That was precisely why he remained uneasy.
When everything goes perfectly, Adams thought,
it is rarely a good sign.
There should have been some inconsistency.
Some detail that didn't quite fit.
Instead, everything aligned so smoothly that it was almost intoxicating.
Perhaps twenty years ago he would have accepted it gladly.
But with age had come suspicion.
And something about Killian Gore made him uneasy.
Polite.
Brilliant.
A champion of human rights.
A man committed to peace between nations.
Everything Adams had investigated suggested he was completely genuine.
And after meeting him in person, Adams could not deny that Killian was an impressive young man.
Which meant—
He was almost too perfect.
Was Adams simply becoming cynical in his old age?
Perhaps.
Still, the perfection bothered him.
Killian's arguments were logical.
His proposals were compelling.
Yet Adams could not fully trust him.
Still, he thought,
his commitment to abolishing slavery appears genuine.
Perhaps that alone is enough.
Politics, after all, was nothing more than a contest of mutual exploitation.
Even if Killian had ulterior motives—
If Adams could achieve his own goals, he would gladly pretend to be used while using the British minister in return.
The seasoned giant of American politics watched Killian's departing figure with sharp eyes.
His guard remained firmly raised.
"Well," James said once they were outside,
"that seems to have gone well."
He let out a relieved sigh.
"Well?" Killian repeated.
"Yes."
"He agreed to accept our help, and he even promised to work with me once I visit the United States."
"Since he trusts us now, we simply need to build upon that trust."
Killian smirked.
"If that's what you think, then Adams is definitely not someone to underestimate."
"Honestly, that makes things more interesting."
"…Excuse me?"
"Adams," Killian said.
"Despite his words and expressions, he doesn't actually trust us."
James blinked.
From his perspective, Adams had clearly grown convinced by their arguments.
But Killian had observed him closely.
The former president had played along convincingly.
Yet he never fully believed them.
Killian had expected skepticism.
They had met only twice.
Total trust would have been unrealistic.
But pretending to trust someone while secretly probing their intentions was a different matter.
That meant Adams was planning to use them as well.
"Was my acting insufficient?" James asked.
"No," Killian replied.
"Your performance was perfect."
"If your skin were slightly darker, Adams might have asked if you had African ancestors."
James sighed.
"Then he's simply a naturally suspicious man."
"Well, he survived decades in American politics."
"Of course he is."
Killian shrugged.
"The man was President of the United States."
"If he weren't cautious, that would be stranger."
In truth, Killian was almost pleased.
Too many people had fallen for his performances too easily.
It had nearly dulled his instincts.
But an opponent who forced him to remain alert—
That made things exciting.
"Still," James said,
"even if he suspects something, he cannot possibly discover our real objective at this stage."
Killian chuckled.
"Never underestimate the power of irrational leaps in logic."
People often mocked wild speculation.
Yet occasionally—
Such instincts uncovered the truth.
And a veteran politician like Adams might stumble upon fragments of the truth if given the slightest opportunity.
"So this won't be easy," James admitted.
"If he remains suspicious, we must treat that suspicion as a constant."
"Of course," Killian replied.
"But suspicion alone won't stop him."
"He'll still follow our proposals—for now."
"Because his doubts haven't progressed beyond vague discomfort."
James nodded.
"That makes sense."
"If he truly distrusted us, he wouldn't have accepted any of my proposals."
Exactly.
Adams had carefully chosen the suggestions least likely to cause trouble.
Which meant he was willing to cooperate—
But not fully commit.
"In the end," Killian said,
"this becomes a battle of strategy."
"Both sides will try to take what benefits them while revealing as little as possible."
"Victory will go to whoever reads the other's hand first."
James looked impressed.
"A true political chess match."
Killian smiled faintly.
"It's been a while since I've enjoyed one."
"Still," James said cautiously,
"are you certain this is wise?"
"What do you mean?"
"You'll need to invest considerable time in Adams if you want to win this game."
"That means traveling not only to Canada but also the United States."
"You'll likely stay longer than originally planned."
Killian paused.
"…Ah."
Right.
He had forgotten his most terrifying opponent.
He glanced at James, who simply raised his fists encouragingly.
Apparently suggesting that Killian confront the problem directly.
Killian narrowed his eyes.
James' cheerful smile looked suspiciously like mockery.
Mocking his superior's misfortune.
What an insolent subordinate.
In his mind, Killian silently confiscated three years of James' vacation before heading toward Kensington Palace.
Victoria listened quietly.
"So you're saying you must visit not only Canada but also the United States?"
"Yes," Killian replied carefully.
"I believe it would benefit the Empire if I spoke with the American President and members of Congress."
"And I should also observe how rapidly the United States is developing."
"That will help shape our policy."
Victoria nodded slowly.
"That sounds reasonable."
"So how long do you expect this trip to last?"
Killian began calculating nervously.
"The Canadian immigration policy is already underway."
"There are farmers, factory workers, and settlers moving westward."
"To manage the process properly, prevent border disputes, and evaluate the results…"
He hesitated.
Victoria's voice softened slightly.
"So how many months will that take?"
"The best approach would be to remain in Canada long enough to observe developments directly."
"And since we must also monitor the United States, reaching a stable situation would require about three years—"
Crunch.
Victoria gently pressed her knife into a strawberry.
Red juice spilled across the plate.
Killian cleared his throat.
"…However, that might be excessive."
"If fruit ripens too long, it spoils."
"So I've revised the plan."
"If we develop the Great Lakes region, coordinate with the United States, and accelerate progress…"
"Perhaps two years—"
Crack.
This time the cream pastry in Victoria's hand crumbled into dozens of pieces.
Killian suddenly felt as if his own face had shattered along with it.
"…On second thought," he said quickly,
"that still seems too long."
"One year."
"I will complete everything within one year and return immediately."
Victoria smiled sweetly.
"Really?"
"You're not overworking yourself?"
"Of course not," Killian replied quickly.
"In these turbulent times, we cannot afford to move slowly."
"I will finish my duties as quickly as possible."
"Wonderful," Victoria said brightly.
"In that case, I'll prepare a special surprise for you while you're away."
Killian forced a smile.
"To receive such kindness from Her Majesty brings tears of gratitude to my eyes."
Yes.
The tears threatening to spill from his eyes were clearly tears of deep emotion.
Nothing else.
Not at all.
Even if the schedule was tight—
He could manage it.
All he had to do was complete the Canadian immigration policy, develop the western territories using gold mines, minimize side effects, build infrastructure around the Great Lakes, and secure leverage over the United States.
All within one year.
Killian blinked.
…This was bad.
He genuinely felt like he might cry.