Nearly two hours had passed since I woke up.
I had eaten breakfast about an hour earlier and was now gazing out the window, sipping tea.
A short while later I set the cup back in its saucer on the table and was about to sit down when William burst into the room without knocking.
He was panting heavily, clutching a single sheet of paper.
I braced one hand on the desk, about to speak—when William almost shouted,
"Urgent summons to the palace… Your Grace!!!"
My eyes widened in pure disbelief.
Had I made a mistake?
Or had that Night Keeper reported me after all?
While those thoughts raced through my mind, William spoke again—this time more calmly.
"The King has summoned all four great dukes… for urgent reasons."
Hearing the words "four great dukes" eased my tension slightly.
But why all four of us?
What exactly had happened?
I thought back to last night.
I had instructed Sebastian to take a group of Night Keepers and search the area around—and on the rooftops of—St. Paul's Cathedral.
Could they have found the missing Yangban?
I walked to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and pulled out a long coat—but the moment I lifted it, William spoke in a tone laced with mockery.
"You intend… to wear that, my lord?"
I turned to look at him, then down at the coat.
I glanced back at William.
"What's wrong with it…?"
William approached the wardrobe, opened one of the lower drawers, and withdrew a neatly folded garment. He closed the drawer, stepped toward me, and held it out.
"My lord… this is an urgent audience with the King himself—not a social reception. You must wear the formal attire of a great duke."
He handed me the folded coat, returned the one I had chosen to its place, closed the wardrobe door, and said,
"So please wear this. In the meantime, I shall inform the Head Butler to prepare the carriage."
With that, he left the room.
I stood there, still staring at the folded garment in my hands.
I drew a deep breath and muttered under my breath,
"Being one of the four great dukes comes with far more trouble than privilege…"
During the past year in Manchester, I had rejected every royal summons—for reasons ranging from illness to factory inspections to industrial progress. But now I was in London, healthier than ever.
There was no escaping this one.
I unfolded the coat and held it in front of me.
It was far more ornate than my usual ones. I turned it slightly. On the back, the map of Britain was embroidered in gold thread, and in the very centre—worked in silver or perhaps white—was the gear motif.
I exhaled and put it on.
After dressing, I looked at myself in the mirror.
The coat was strikingly different. Even the sleeves bore intricate floral and vine embroidery.
I ran a comb quickly through my hair, then headed for the door.
I hurried out of my room and descended the stairs—first to the second floor, then the main staircase to the first.
When I reached the grand hall on the ground floor, I stepped out through the main entrance and down the front steps.
Frederick was standing beside the carriage, speaking with the coachman and jotting something on his clipboard with a pen.
Without pausing to greet anyone, I climbed inside.
William was already seated, calmly smoking his pipe. When he saw me enter he startled slightly.
I reached to close the door—when Frederick appeared at the opening.
"My lord… what should I do?"
I gave him a small smile.
"Stay and watch over the manor. As I said yesterday, it's best if you keep control of the guards for now…"
Frederick bowed quietly and closed the door himself.
From outside I heard him instruct the coachman to head for Buckingham Palace.
The carriage began to move.
William remained completely silent the entire journey—the first time I had ever seen him so quiet.
I said nothing either. There was nothing worth saying.
Eight minutes later…
The carriage slowed to a gentle stop.
William reached to open the door for me, but I gestured that it wasn't necessary and opened it myself.
I stepped down.
I felt as though I had arrived late—there was no one in the courtyard—when suddenly I heard the sound of several more horses and carriages approaching from behind.
I turned.
A wave of relief washed over me.
Geoffrey's carriage had just arrived.
But directly beside mine, two more carriages halted—likely those of the Duke of Oxford and the Duke of Edinburgh.
As all of them disembarked, we exchanged brief glances.
Geoffrey's coat was a slightly lighter shade of brown than mine. The Duke of Oxford—Edric de Vere—wore a long white coat. The Duke of Edinburgh—Theron Hanover—wore black.
After this rather awkward moment of mutual assessment, the four of us entered Buckingham Palace together.
After a short walk and climbing the stairs, we reached the second floor—the ceremonial level.
We proceeded toward the Throne Room. Our names were announced as we entered.
The great doors closed behind us.
I still found it hard to believe that the reigning monarch of this world was King George V.
But what I saw was real.
The King sat elevated on the throne.
We four great dukes stood to the right of the hall.
The Ming trade delegation stood to the left.
The leader of the Ming delegation began to speak.
Neither I nor any of the other three dukes understood a word—there was no translator present.
But a translator stood beside the King.
At the very least, the King could understand what the Ming leader was saying.
I spent the entire time listening to the leader's words—phrases such as
"此人是在明帝国保护下出行的"
or
"他的死亡是对明帝国受保护代表安全的侮辱"
Of course, I might have misheard—but I felt certain those were the kinds of things he was saying.
Suddenly the Ming leader's tone grew sharper.
"英国有义务进行正式调查"
The King's translator relayed the message to us.
"They are demanding a formal investigation…"
I glanced between the King and the Ming leader.
The King turned toward us four dukes and said calmly,
"They want an investigation…"
I still hadn't fully grasped the situation, so I leaned toward Geoffrey and whispered,
"What does the King mean? What investigation is the Ming delegation demanding?"
Geoffrey whispered back just as quietly.
"I'm not entirely sure… but according to the newspapers, the dried and rotting corpse of that Yangban who arrived with the Ming delegation was discovered last night on the roof of St. Paul's Cathedral by the Night Keepers…"
A faint, incredulous smile touched my lips.
Whenever Geoffrey said he didn't know much, he immediately revealed information I hadn't known.
I drew a deep breath, raised my hand slightly, and said aloud,
"Your Majesty… may I have permission to rise and speak?"
King George looked at me for a moment, closed his eyes briefly, and answered,
"Do as you wish…"
I rose slowly from my seat and stood.
I turned toward the Ming delegation, offered a polite smile, and said,
"You seem convinced that the Great Kingdom is responsible… May I ask why you allowed that Yangban to leave the carriage and wander the city in the first place?"
The Ming translator began conveying my words to their leader.
I used the moment to continue.
"Furthermore, the body was found rotten and putrid on the roof of one of the greatest churches in the city. This clearly indicates no ordinary human could have caused such decay. You must also consider that the Great Kingdom and the Ming Empire are currently at peace. Your extreme seriousness over what is clearly an inhuman event is… somewhat puzzling."
A short while later the translator fell silent.
The Ming leader stared at me—visibly surprised.
After my words were translated, even he looked taken aback.
I kept the polite smile on my face and continued,
"If you were satisfied with nothing more than a seal of identity… I myself could forge such a seal and claim to be a Yangban."
Silence fell over the entire hall.
Even the translator seemed stunned.
When my words were conveyed, the Ming leader stared at me in open disbelief.
The King gave a faint smile.
Geoffrey, Edric, and Theron each showed some small reaction.
A little over an hour later…
It was nearly noon when we finally left the Throne Room.
Fortunately, the Ming delegation had backed down from their initial position.
The King had arranged a reception for that evening—so the delegation would depart Britain without resentment.
Together with the other three great dukes, I left Buckingham Palace to return to our respective manors and prepare for the evening reception.
I was truly exhausted. The pressure during the audience had been immense—yet fortunately, no real disaster had occurred.
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A short while after Elias departed for Buckingham Palace—around ten o'clock in the morning.
Frederick Clayton still stood in front of the manor, murmuring under his breath.
"My lord… why did you go out last night…?"