The imperialist nations of the 19th century had, in many ways, lost all sense of restraint.
In a world of the one-eyed, the man with two eyes is seen as abnormal. In this era, not believing in white superiority was what made one abnormal.
Even so, the British Empire was considered relatively better.
Not because it was particularly moral or enlightened.
But because of my presence, and because I had already introduced a multiethnic and multicultural system in Canada, framing it as a symbol of tolerance and magnanimity.
That did not mean the overall stance of the mainland had changed.
White supremacy in this era was practically a principle supported by governments.
In a sense, it resembled missionary work.
A perfect justification, spreading the Bible and the word of God to those who did not know Christ.
Many European nations actively sent missionaries into Asia and Africa, provoking local resistance, and when those missionaries were harmed, they used it as justification to send troops.
On top of that, they claimed to be civilizing those they considered inferior.
Colonial expansion was not exploitation.
It was enlightenment.
Even if Britain was slightly more restrained than others, this belief was something no imperial power could abandon.
Without it, they would be nothing more than invaders.
Justification mattered.
It unified nations.
So Britain did not silence those who promoted such ideas.
Instead, it reshaped them.
"White people are mentally and physically superior, and it is natural for them to rule others. It is a duty to civilize those under their rule."
This argument, popularized by Alfred Tennyson, spread rapidly across Europe.
In truth, he was not a malicious man.
He had praised British soldiers during the war with Russia.
He had even dedicated a poem to me upon my return.
Yet ideas like this spread easily in this age.
Even Parliament and the government were pushing harder for expansion.
"Your Highness, Parliament is discussing plans to further develop Australia and New Zealand."
"Prime Minister, I am currently resting under Her Majesty's orders."
"You spent over a year abroad."
"I was serving the Empire."
"Which is precisely why they now depend on you."
Charles Wellesley smiled, but his tone shifted.
"Your Highness."
"…What is it?"
"I did not come here to discuss policy."
"…Then?"
"My father… is very ill. Will you come with me?"
I understood immediately.
"…Of course."
Two hours later, I arrived at Apsley House.
The servants greeted me nervously.
"His Grace cannot come to greet you personally."
"That is fine."
I went upstairs.
There, in the same room as years ago, sat Arthur Wellesley.
Older.
Weaker.
Yet still composed.
"I did not expect you to come personally."
"I should have come sooner."
He laughed.
"My son is now Prime Minister. I still cannot believe it."
"He has done well."
"He could not have done it alone."
He looked at me.
"Please continue to support him."
"I will."
We spoke of the past.
Of politics.
Of time.
"I regret many things."
"Everyone does."
"You have achieved much."
"I have been fortunate."
"…Take care of my sons."
"I will."
We both knew.
There would be no next meeting.
Three days later, news arrived.
Arthur Wellesley had passed away.
The man who had defeated Napoleon Bonaparte.
The symbol of an era.
Gone.
And with him—
an age ended.
***
The funeral of Arthur Wellesley was, as expected, held as a grand state funeral.
Queen Victoria personally appointed the funeral committee, and I arranged for 10,000 pounds to be paid from royal funds.
Originally, Parliament should have provided the budget, but since the Duke's son, Charles Wellesley, was the current Prime Minister, I opened the royal purse as a gesture of consideration.
The Duke had more than enough achievements to deserve such a funeral.
But there could have been talk that the Prime Minister was using large sums for his father's funeral.
In truth, I am not sure if this is an appropriate way to describe a funeral, but the timing was not bad.
"The achievements of the Duke of Wellington, who defeated Napoleon Bonaparte and brought peace to Europe, do not fade with time but shine even brighter.
When did the British Empire rise to stand among the greatest powers in the world?
Scholars may differ, but I believe it began the moment we defeated Napoleon.
Therefore, at this moment when Britain stands as the leader of Europe and the imperial power of Asia, we will devote ourselves fully to honoring Arthur Wellesley, who laid the foundation of this great era."
The citizens of Britain, already filled with pride, responded enthusiastically to this announcement.
It became one of the most magnificent funerals in nearly a century.
Countless processions arrived at St. Paul's Cathedral to pay tribute.
Veterans of the Duke's rifle brigade joined the procession.
The coffin was carried into the cathedral.
"Beside Admiral Nelson… Father would be satisfied."
"You have worked hard preparing everything, Prime Minister."
"You have done more, Your Highness. Thank you for arranging the expenses and the committee."
"There is no need for that between us.
If I did not care for the Duke's final journey, that would make me ungrateful.
He was very proud of you.
I believe he closed his eyes in peace."
"I wanted him to see me become the longest-serving Prime Minister…"
After speaking with me, the Duke had called his sons.
He listened to their plans with satisfaction.
Then he quietly closed his eyes, as if falling asleep.
It could be called a good death.
But whether it is a good death or not, sending off one's father is always filled with mixed emotions.
When the coffin was fully lowered and no longer visible, I bowed slightly.
"Thank you for everything. Rest in peace, Duke."
"…May you rest beside the Lord."
For the first time in over twenty years, I saw Charles Wellesley's eyes redden.
I pretended not to notice.
I quietly listened to the bishop's prayer.
To leave this world mourned by so many could be called a fortunate end.
The Duke's reputation was so great that mourners came from across Europe.
Austria.
Prussia.
The Netherlands.
Even the Papal States.
Each sent representatives to pay their respects.
Wellesley, not as Prime Minister but as a son, expressed his gratitude.
However, there was another figure who died around the same time but received only formal condolences.
A week after the funeral, news arrived from Russia.
"Nicholas I of Russia has passed away."
"He was not that old, was he?"
"After the defeat in war, he drank heavily almost every day.
He recently fell ill with pneumonia, and it worsened."
"…I see.
We should still send condolences."
Even during the war, it was said that stress had taken a toll on him.
After such a humiliating defeat, it was not surprising.
Even so, public matters must follow protocol.
I gathered materials on Nicholas.
I wrote a formal letter of condolence.
When I was in Asia, Louis Philippe I had passed away.
Now Nicholas as well.
Watching familiar names disappear one by one.
They say that is a sign of aging.
Is it normal to think that while still in my thirties?
Still, I had no intention of stopping.
Rest can wait until I am buried.
Before that, I have things to accomplish.
I will take better care of my health.
I will leave a mark that will never fade.
With that resolve, I turned back toward the palace.
"…Ah, I see. That sounds nice."
"That is all?"
I had just spoken of ambition.
But Queen Victoria simply yawned and covered her mouth.
"Why?
I said it sounds nice.
But is it really necessary?
Even if you do nothing, no one will forget you."
"No sense of romance."
"I woke up at dawn preparing for the funeral.
I am exhausted.
There is no schedule this afternoon.
I am going to sleep."
"Then I will also…"
"No.
Did you forget what you just said?
You need to leave your mark on the world."
She smiled faintly.
"Edward and Adelaide will finish their lessons soon.
Take care of them.
A great man should also be great at home."
I had no answer.
I escorted her to the bedroom.
Then I went down to the reception room.
"Father!"
"You have been home more often lately."
"When was I ever not home?"
"We heard you got scolded and will stay home."
I ignored that.
I smiled.
"Of course I will spend time with you."
Edward wanted to ride a warship.
Adelaide wanted a ball.
They argued.
I sighed.
They had grown without me noticing.
"Come.
Let us talk first."
We spoke about their studies.
Edward hesitated.
He felt pressure as the future king.
"Do not doubt yourself.
Doubt will only hold you back."
"From tomorrow, I will spend time with you every day."
"Really?"
"Yes.
We will visit a warship.
And I will arrange a small ball."
They hugged me.
I held them tightly.
Perhaps, for now, this was enough.
The days passed quickly.
Morning and evening, I handled royal duties.
At midday, I spent time with my children.
The world remained quiet.
Like the calm before a storm.
And so,
six years passed in the blink of an eye.