By long-standing convention, the consort of the British monarch must remain politically neutral.
It was not a rule enforced by law. Yet everyone treated it as an ironclad principle that simply could not be broken.
History was full of such customs—rules not written in law but possessing far stronger binding power.
And in the upper classes, where tradition mattered above all else, such unwritten rules were even more rigid.
Which meant one thing.
No matter what I did, if I became the royal consort, I would inevitably have to resign as minister.
That reality would not change.
That was why I had always planned to postpone marriage with Queen Victoria until I was fully prepared.
"Your Majesty. Even if we were to marry—"
"No, wait. Stop right there."
Victoria abruptly raised her hand.
"Of course I know you must have your own thoughts about this, Killian. But please—don't say anything yet. Go back and organize your thoughts first. Actually… no. I'll be the one who needs to organize mine."
"…Pardon?"
What was that supposed to mean?
She had urgently summoned me, only to tell me to leave?
"I understand why that sounds confusing," Victoria continued. "But I called you today mainly to explain the situation. I wanted you to know what was happening—and to confirm whether the Whigs recommended you because they understood the risks this marriage would bring you."
"I see," I said slowly. "But I can give you my answer right now."
"I'm not ready to hear it."
She shook her head firmly.
"Depending on what you say, I might decide immediately without thinking things through properly. And I don't want that. This decision could change the course of your entire life. If I simply accept it without reflection, how could I face you with a clear conscience?"
Ah.
So that was it.
If I reassured her that everything was already planned—that I had prepared countermeasures—she would probably respond with something like:
Of course you have, Killian. I knew I could trust you.
And then the wedding would proceed immediately.
But that would mean I had solved the risks myself.
Victoria didn't want to merely ride along on my preparations when making a decision as important as marriage.
Considering her personality, that made perfect sense.
She already knew the risks I would bear.
And she was not the kind of person who could simply ignore that.
It also meant she truly cared.
"Very well," I said with a small smile. "Then I will organize my thoughts as well. How much time would Your Majesty like?"
"Not long. One day… perhaps two."
"You need not rush," I replied. "Take as long as you need. I'll leave so you can think in peace."
While Victoria sorted through her thoughts, I would handle matters within the party.
I had prepared contingency plans in case Victoria ever acted impulsively.
But I had never imagined I would use those preparations to counter a Whig political maneuver.
Marriage…
I had assumed it was at least three years too early.
Yet hearing it spoken aloud like this stirred strange emotions.
In my previous life, I had never married.
Was I really about to become a married man in this life?
No.
It was too soon for sentimental thoughts.
First, I needed to decide how to resolve this political situation.
Leaving Kensington Palace, I did not return home.
Instead, I instructed the carriage to head toward the townhouse of Arthur Wellesley.
At least I had warned him beforehand.
Though that warning probably wouldn't reduce the shock he was about to experience.
After Killian left, Victoria remained alone in the spacious room.
Her eyes wandered over the luxurious furniture surrounding her.
If they married…
Would she share rooms like this with him?
A strange ticklish sensation stirred in her stomach.
Yet thanks to the resolve she had already formed, her mind remained calm even as her heart raced.
"Royal consort…"
Killian Gore was, by nature, an ambitious man.
Victoria had watched him since childhood.
She knew this without doubt.
He rarely displayed it openly, but he had always stood at the center of power and never hesitated to influence the direction of the country.
If he became consort, however, that freedom would be restricted.
Yes, he would gain influence as the Queen's husband.
But that life was not quite the one Killian truly desired.
Which meant asking him to marry her was essentially asking him to sacrifice part of his future.
Surely Killian must already have a plan.
She could not deny that the thought had crossed her mind.
In fact—
the idea that he had already prepared a solution made her immensely happy.
If he had a way to avoid suffering losses, then there would be no reason to hesitate.
But that realization also embarrassed her.
She had always relied on him.
Ever since the day they first met, she had depended on the boy who was a year younger than herself.
And because of that, somewhere deep inside her heart remained the quiet expectation:
Killian will solve it somehow.
"Are you going to live like that forever?"
There was no law saying she couldn't.
Even when they weren't married, he had helped her endlessly.
If they became husband and wife, she could rely on him even more.
"No."
Victoria shook her head.
That was precisely the kind of thinking she needed to avoid.
Even entertaining it was dangerous.
Slowly closing her eyes, she began examining the problems one by one.
As Killian had said, marriage would force him to resign his ministerial position.
And while he could remain friendly with the Conservatives, he could not openly support them as before.
"But the justification for the marriage is Irish integration… perhaps there's a way to work around that…"
Killian would surely prepare something.
But she was the Queen of the British Empire.
There had to be some move that only she could make.
Realizing this, she suddenly felt that all her earlier hesitation had been a waste of time.
Victoria jumped to her feet.
She spread several sheets of paper across the table and began scribbling down every idea that came to mind.
If she analyzed them carefully—
surely at least one would be useful.
In truth, the decision she would ultimately make had already been determined from the beginning.
From the moment William Gladstone had proposed it.
No—
from the moment she first saw him at Eton.
It had been fate.
The next day.
After meeting with Arthur Wellesley to discuss the future, I was summoned back to the palace exactly one day later—just as Victoria had promised.
This time, she received me not in the reception hall but in her private chamber.
Her posture was stiff.
Her face looked even more nervous than before.
"Um… it's been a while—no, I mean… it's only been a day—what am I even saying?"
She coughed awkwardly.
"Anyway… did you sleep well?"
"Not particularly," I admitted. "I had quite a few things to think about. It seems Your Majesty did as well."
"That's true. Honestly, I think I slept less than two hours."
"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard."
"No. I had to."
She gave a small laugh.
"And actually, it's better this way. To say what I'm about to say, being slightly delirious might help."
Victoria drained a cup of coffee as if it were liquor and took several deep breaths.
We both knew what was coming.
Yet somehow, beginning the conversation felt strangely difficult.
"Your Majesty, if I may—"
"No. I need to say this first."
She hesitated.
"Killian… do you remember the day we first met?"
"Of course. At Eton. I showed Your Majesty a card trick while delivering a message."
"That wasn't the first time. Our eyes met when you stepped down from the carriage. Cecilia had been talking about you constantly, so I was curious."
So that was it.
I vaguely remembered that moment.
Our eyes had met briefly.
At the time I had wondered if she had been looking at me—then dismissed the thought as ridiculous.
Apparently it hadn't been my imagination after all.
"My school days were much more enjoyable thanks to Your Majesty," I said with a smile. "Though I admit I approached you deliberately."
"Of course you did," Victoria said softly. "But you saved me during a very unstable period of my life. The knowledge you taught me helped me become the Queen people respect today. I owe you more than I can ever repay."
Emotion welled up in her voice.
She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
"And yet… I feel as if I've never given you anything in return."
"That isn't true," I replied gently. "You supported me during the Irish crisis and the cabinet vote of no confidence."
"Those things were nothing compared to what you've done."
"Well, eating raw rutabaga wasn't exactly a small sacrifice."
Victoria laughed weakly.
"That was awful. But you're right—I suppose I've tried my best to repay you in my own way."
She had done more than try.
Lately she had been pushing me so hard I almost felt guilty.
"Your Majesty has helped me just as much," I said. "Teaching you was something I genuinely enjoyed."
"I was always happy it was you who came to see me," she replied quietly.
Then she inhaled slowly.
"And to be honest… when the Whigs suggested I marry you, I almost agreed immediately. The only reason I didn't was because I knew it might become a chain around your neck."
"As I said yesterday, that concern isn't necessary. I have already considered the matter."
"Of course you have," she said softly. "You're Killian Gore. Naturally you would have prepared something."
She shook her head.
"But that plan didn't fall from the sky. It means you worked hard to solve a problem created by my own selfish desire."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"Killian… even in the future, being with me will bring burdens. That's simply what it means to stand beside the Queen."
She looked down at the floor.
"…Even so… this might sound shameless… but I still want you to remain by my side."
Her final words were barely audible.
"Your—"
"Wait. I'm not finished yet."
She took another deep breath.
"I'm not asking you to carry everything alone. I will do everything I can to ensure this marriage benefits you as well. I will use every power I have as Queen. If necessary, I will even risk accusations of political interference."
Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress.
"I've already thought of several possible solutions."
Then she finally lifted her eyes and looked straight at me.
"I love you."
Her voice trembled.
"Please stay by my side for the rest of our lives."
There were no elaborate words.
No poetic phrasing.
Yet the confession carried enormous weight.
What could I possibly add to that?
So instead—
I simply nodded.
"Gladly, my Queen."