The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1815 - 108: The Charitable Hastings (Part 2)

Arthur adjusted the smile on his face, and then slowly turned his head, surprised, "Your Highness, Princess?"

"Please come in." Her voice was somewhat hoarse, her eyes red, obviously she had been crying: "Sir Arthur."

Arthur did not move immediately, but first glanced at Flora beside him.

Flora evidently understood what he was concerned about; she merely nodded slightly: "The situation is urgent now, so don’t be bound by etiquette. Please come in."

Only then did Arthur step inside, feeling the warmth of the fireplace rushing towards him.

Princess Sophia remained by the door, waving to Flora as well: "You come in too, Flora, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to conceal for me earlier."

The door of the living room slowly closed. Princess Sophia didn’t return to the sofa chair to sit; she just stood by the fire, her hands clasped in front, fingers gently rubbing between each other, as if this was the only way to sustain the little comfort left in her heart.

Arthur saw this and stood near the armchair, neither sitting down nor closing the distance to Sophia, maintaining a courteous distance instead, which, to Princess Sophia at the moment, was a kind of thoughtfulness.

"Sir Arthur," Princess Sophia hesitated for a long time, finally mustering the courage to speak, her voice so low it was barely audible: "You’re a wise man, I know, you’ve probably suspected something from the clues."

She paused slightly, glancing at the pocket watch Arthur had yet to stow away: "I called you over today not just for Fleet Street but also for Scotland Yard. Tonight, a young man named Thomas Gath was arrested near Covent Garden Market. I hope you can persuade Minister Rowan to release him without charges. And of course, I wish for all these matters to be kept private."

Arthur didn’t seek Thomas Gath’s identity first but instead asked: "If you are willing to speak, I’m sure you’ve weighed the matter carefully. Even if so, I still want to confirm one thing first: Do you know what he’s charged with?"

"Seems like assaulting an officer, and intentional harm... and probably some offenses concerning the royal family’s reputation..."

For Arthur, Princess Sophia speaking to this extent was already sufficient. Yet he still confirmed: "Like the FitzClarence family?"

Upon hearing this, Princess Sophia’s breathing slightly halted, her hands previously crossed at her abdomen suddenly loosened, fingers curled as if unconsciously wanting to grasp something, yet catching nothing, only awkwardly hovering in the air.

"You’re right." She awkwardly averted her gaze: "Just like them."

The so-called FitzClarence family was actually the ten illegitimate children King William IV fathered with Mrs. Jordan in his youth. FitzClarence’s meaning is "Clarence’s child," since "Duke of Clarence" was William IV’s major noble title before ascending the throne.

Admitting to this scandal in front of Arthur seemed to relieve Sophia; she even voluntarily said a few more words: "But FitzClarence can at least be called ’His Majesty’s offspring,’ whereas for me? I can’t even give my little Thomas a formal identity. I know I shouldn’t ask you, and I understand how dangerous this matter is... but I truly... truly can’t think of anyone else to help me."

"Your Highness, I’m grateful you told me the truth. My God, if you hadn’t told me these things, I almost would’ve bungled the affair..." Arthur let out a long breath: "I’m not here to judge you or evaluate your actions, Your Highness. I’m here simply because you summoned me. And you called me here not because of any role I once held in government, but because you trust me and believe I can handle this matter properly."

"Of course, Sir Arthur, I trust you unconditionally." Princess Sophia clung to the lifeline: "I swear to God, I’m hiding nothing more. If you can get my little Thomas out of Scotland Yard and silence Fleet Street, I guarantee you’ll get the maximum reward I can offer within my means."

Arthur contemplated for a while, then waved his hand: "Your Highness, we can put aside the matter of reward for now. I don’t intend to make any promises immediately, as that would seem frivolous. But I can assure you, Your Highness, you’re not without support. You can count on me, and this matter isn’t as hopeless as you imagine. On the surface, London stands strong, but in reality, it only sustains itself through mutual facades. You are the King’s daughter, a Princess of Hanover, for the sake of the royal appearance, you’re in no position to act..."

Arthur’s words struck a chord with Princess Sophia: "Sir Arthur, you truly are..."

Arthur confidently smiled: "I’m dealing with Thomas’s issue. But I hope you won’t bear all matters alone, nor let those damned newspapers manipulate your emotions. When similar things occur in the future, don’t panic or overreact, but do remember to inform me promptly. Your Highness, fortunately, you sought me out in time this round; otherwise, in another three to four hours, even if I intervened, it’d be too late."

Princess Sophia nodded heavily, her lips trembling slightly, yet at least able to sit stable now: "Thank you, Sir Arthur, I truly don’t know where else in this world could I find someone as kind as you."

Arthur slightly bowed, solemnly half-kneeling to perform a royal audience courtesy: "I’ve always been here, Your Highness. One hour, one hour later, I’ll report back to you."

...

Arthur adjusted his cloak, stepping through Kensington Palace’s thick iron gate.

He lit his pipe, slowly exhaling a ring of smoke. Just as he descended the last step, heavy footfalls resounded from his side, breaking the brief silence.

"Sir Arthur."

Arthur raised his eyebrows lightly, looking towards the voice; it was the officer sent from Scotland Yard to Kensington Palace to notify of young Thomas Gath’s arrest, Officer Richard Hoot’s younger brother, Mr. Young Hoot.

Young Hoot took off his hat, gasping for breath, evidently having run over.

Though he disliked interacting with these grandees, he had no choice; his brother always exhorted him repeatedly that whenever he encountered Sir Arthur Hastings, he should at least acknowledge him.

Seeing the lad, Arthur casually asked: "How’s your brother doing recently at the Foreign Office?"

"He says it’s alright, though quite busy with work, but at least it’s better than being a constitutional soldier in Russia as before. No more braving the elements; in the office, there’s at least a roof overhead to shelter from the wind and rain."

Arthur nodded slightly upon hearing this: "That’s good. By the way, Hoot, notify them at the station, after Thomas Gath sobers up, release him."

"Hm?" Young Hoot paused, perplexed: "How... How do you know we arrested a drunkard named Thomas Gath?"

"Your brother should’ve taught you, Officer Hoot. Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t; it’s not beneficial for you."

Young Hoot connected the dots of tonight’s scenario, suddenly understanding something: "This... Understood, Sir. But about Minister Rowan, he just mentioned last month to strictly handle assaulting officer incidents... Have you discussed with him?"

"Certainly." Arthur looked at his pocket watch: "Are you busy?"

"Hm? You mean me?"

Arthur smiled, nodding: "If you’re not busy, I’ll treat you to coffee to warm up."

"But you just requested me to return to Scotland Yard..."

"That’s not urgent. If you leave now, I’d have to sit alone in a café for an hour. Consider it, leaving me there does nothing good for your career advancement."