shadow of britain

Chapter 830 The Knight's Promise

Plunkett kicked over the half-closed wooden door, and the courtyard gate was pushed open by the impact. Sea fog rushed in instantly, and Plunkett's old brothers from the 95th Regiment followed closely behind and rushed into the backyard of Albion Villa.

The Kensington Palace guards on duty in the backyard, who had been chatting and joking, were stunned when they saw this.

After all, no one expected that someone would dare to break into the residence of a member of the royal family.

But they were, after all, carefully selected guards, many of whom, like Plunkett and his men, were veterans who had retired from the military. After a brief moment of surprise, their professional instincts and the vigilance they had developed over the years in the army caused their expressions to tighten abruptly.

"Stop them!"

Several sabers were drawn in unison, their cold light flashing in the dim lamplight. Accompanied by the rapid scraping of boots on the wet stone slabs, the guards rushed towards Prenkitt and his men.

However, the veterans of the 95th Regiment, who had long been accustomed to the gunfire of the Korean War and the Battle of Waterloo, did not retreat but advanced, spreading out like hunting dogs in an instant to flank from both sides.

The clanging of steel against steel rang out, and sparks flew from the blades.

Plunkett parried the knife with his brass-tipped short stick, then struck the enemy's forearm with the butt of his revolver, followed by a kick to the stomach. A scream rang out, and the enemy's saber clattered to the ground.

But Plenkitt's victory was actually quite accidental, because ultimately, these veterans of the 95th Regiment were all skilled with guns, but when it came to close combat, they were far inferior to these Kensington Palace guards who had retired from the cavalry.

Sheriff Wayne beside him was caught in a fierce struggle as his burly bodyguard brandished his saber and charged straight at Wayne's chest. Fortunately, Prunkit arrived in time and pounced on Wayne's waist. Together, the two managed to pin the man to the ground.

The guard, panting heavily, glared and roared, "You bunch of idiots! Do you know who I am? I'm no ordinary guard! I'm a cavalry lieutenant from the 15th Light Dragon Cavalry Regiment!"

Plunkett and Wayne hadn't planned to do anything to him, but when they heard the unit number he gave, they punched him in the chin without hesitation: "Ha! The 15th Light Dragoon Regiment? You guys almost sent our whole regiment to meet your maker back at Coa Bridge!"

Several veterans from the 95th Regiment who had gathered around spat and began cursing at the guard.

"When you attend a veterans' club gathering in the future, ask your retired superiors if they were blind during the Battle of Coa, or if they suddenly forgot how to use a telescope!"

"The French artillery fired a salvo at our positions first, and before we could even catch our breath, you damned 'old tailors' were already eager to take our lives! What? Just because we're wearing dark jackets, you think we're French soldiers?!"

The guards were initially cursing, but as Plenkitt and others pointed out the unbearable past events such as "Coa Bridge," "shelling," and "dark jackets," their expressions gradually froze.

The Battle of Coa is not well-known in the Peninsular War. In fact, because Britain suffered a humiliating defeat and the battle was fought in a rather comical manner, it is rarely mentioned in Britain.

As for the incident in this battle, where the cavalry mistook the 95th Regiment for French troops due to their dark uniforms and almost launched an attack on their own forces, this is a detail that almost no one knows except those who experienced it firsthand.

The subdued guards exchanged bewildered glances, then stared at Plunkett and asked, "Who...who are you people?"

Just then, a short, sharp sound of wind breaking came from the other end of the courtyard.

Snapped!
Arthur's eagle-headed cane slammed solidly into the shoulder of the last guard who was still putting up a fight. The man groaned, his saber fell to the ground, and he staggered to his knees on the wet stone slab.

Arthur withdrew his cane and calmly stepped into the lamplight. He looked down at the guards lying on the ground, his voice as cold as frost: "You are quite loyal. However, your loyalty is misplaced."

"Arthur...Sir Hastings?"

The guards were all stunned and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"You actually have the nerve to ask me why I'm here?"

He paused, his tone suddenly turning cold: "When the nation needs protection, you stand guard for a palace parasite who plots to seize power and manipulate His Highness's will. Tell me, is this loyalty or treason! Do you truly not understand Conroy's schemes, or are you pretending not to?"

The guards were dumbfounded by Arthur's question. Although they could sense that something was wrong with the atmosphere at Albion Villa recently, it seemed that Princess Victoria was having another argument with the Duchess of Kent and had refused to leave her room to see her mother for several days.

However, the guards couldn't understand how a strained mother-son relationship could be related to treason.

The guards exchanged bewildered glances, still completely confused. They couldn't help but press, "Sir, what exactly do you mean? Wasn't Her Highness just throwing a tantrum? How have we become traitors?"

Arthur didn't explain a word. He turned around and strode straight toward the long door of the villa's back porch, as if it had never been an obstacle, but a passage that was naturally open to him.

Several guards instinctively wanted to stop them, but they stopped when they met the sharp eyes of Prenkitt and the others.

However, they were still worried, so they could only quietly put away their sabers and silently follow behind Arthur.

Arthur walked steadily through the back corridor, his leather-soled shoes making a crisp yet steady sound on the marble floor. The corridor lights along the way cast long shadows of him. Plenkitt and several veterans of the 95th Regiment stood on either side of him, while the guards in the backyard followed closely behind them.

Conroy watched him walk from the backyard to the front hall, when the crisp sound of his footsteps suddenly stopped.

Immediately afterwards, Arthur was seen to thrust his cane downwards and place his hands on the silver eagle's head.

He first took off his hat and bowed slightly to the Duchess of Kent, then put his hat back on and said to Conroy, "It seems that someone here has taken it upon themselves to treat Her Highness's residence as their private property."

Conroy's face immediately darkened, a hint of anger and impatience flashing in his eyes. But when he saw the imposing group of 95th Regiment veterans and guards behind Arthur, Conroy finally suppressed his anger and did not act rashly.

He straightened up and spoke with a fierce but weak tone: "Sir, you are a friend of Kensington Palace, that's certainly true. But you led people to break into the royal residence in the middle of the night, and no matter how close we are, I cannot excuse you on this matter."

Before Arthur could speak, the old sheriff Murphy stepped forward and firmly stood between him and Conroy: "Sir Arthur Hastings is here at my invitation to assist in the performance of official duties."

Having finished speaking, Murphy picked up the search warrant from the servant's hand, gave it a slight shake, and the gaslight illuminated the still-dry sheriff's seal, making it gleam: "As I just mentioned, a group of vicious itinerant robbers has recently infiltrated Ramsgate. They are elusive and prefer to operate at night. Ramsgate's standing police force is limited and cannot secure every key location in a short time. Therefore, I have requested the assistance of Sir Arthur Hastings, the most experienced policing officer who has proven his abilities both in London and overseas, as well as several Scotland Yard officers who are currently on holiday in the area."

After saying this, Murphy puffed out his chest slightly: "So, Sir John Conroy, may we now begin the search?"

Conroy's lips twitched, and the anger in his eyes was almost overflowing.

But he knew very well that if he argued any further in this setting, he would only appear more guilty. Besides, even if he insisted on stopping him, he couldn't possibly stop him.

He suppressed his anger, shrugged, and said, "You're the sheriff, Mr. Murphy. You already have a search warrant. Do you still need to consult the Duchess and me?"

Murphy nodded slightly, then turned to the Duchess of Kent and said solemnly and sincerely, "Your Highness, I apologize for disturbing you at this time, but this is for your and the Princess's safety."

The Duchess of Kent pursed her lips, said nothing more, and simply nodded slightly, which was taken as tacit approval.

With Conroy already giving in, she didn't know what to do next.

Murphy again removed his hat to apologize to her, then gave Arthur a wink: "Sir Arthur, the upstairs is yours. The rooms, the corridors, the storage rooms, everything is yours. I'll lead the search downstairs."

Arthur simply raised the brim of his hat slightly, said nothing more, and turned to lead Plunkett and the veterans of the 95th Regiment toward the stairs.

The second-floor corridor was dimly lit, with dappled light and shadow cast by the gas lamp shades.

Mrs. Lezen was already waiting at the top of the stairs, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her face pale and her eyes red.

She heard the arguing and clashing downstairs the whole time, her heart pounding in her chest, until she saw Arthur walk upstairs, and only then did the tension in her heart finally ease.

“Sir Arthur…” she called out almost involuntarily, tears welling up in her eyes, “Thank you, thank you so much. Forgive me, at a time like this, I really don’t know what to say to thank you…”

Arthur raised his hand, tapping the ground lightly with his eagle-headed cane, interrupting her: "No need to thank me, madam. We were both thinking of Her Highness the Princess. Being loyal to my duty and serving the public wholeheartedly has always been my principle."

Upon hearing this, Leizen's eyes reddened even more, and he said in a trembling voice, "You are a true knight. Not only do you wear a sword and helmet and perform the proper salutes, but you also possess the virtue of always stepping forward in crucial moments."

Arthur waved his hand wearily: "Time is of the essence, this is not the time for pleasantries. Madam, please take me to see her."

Lezen held his breath, nodded heavily, then turned and led the way, walking quickly ahead as if afraid that if he was even a fraction of a second slower, Arthur would miss the chance to see the princess.

At the end of the corridor was a heavy double carved wooden door, with a faint candlelight shining through the cracks, accompanied by a faint smell of medicine and alcohol.

She stopped, took a deep breath, and gently pushed open a door.

The air inside was more stifling than in the corridor, and the heavy curtains were tightly drawn, blocking out the night and the sea fog.

The fire in the fireplace had weakened to the point that it could only emit a few wisps of dark red embers.

Several small tea tables were placed beside the bed, on which were scattered medicine bottles, spoons, and a thermos, as well as a few novels that Mrs. Lezen often read to Victoria before going to bed.

Victoria lay quietly on the high-backed, ornate bed, her face almost translucent with paleness. Her eyelashes cast thin shadows beneath her eyelids, and her forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat. Her breathing was steady, but it betrayed the weakness of illness.

“Your Highness, Your Highness…Sir Arthur Hastings has come to see you.”

Lezen leaned down and whispered a few words in her ear. Victoria stirred slightly and slowly lifted her eyelids.

Her hazy gaze was initially somewhat bewildered, but then it landed on Arthur's figure. As if recognizing something, after a moment of stunned silence, a hint of surprise and relief flashed across her expression.

Arthur slowly leaned down by the bedside, his shadow cast by the candlelight obscuring Victoria's face.

Arthur didn't rush to speak, but instead reached out a hand and gently grasped Victoria's cool, slender fingers.

Her hand barely had the strength to respond, but a faint pulse could still be felt at her fingertips, subtle yet tenacious.

Victoria tried to prop herself up, her fingers clenching slightly on the bedding, but due to her weakness, her shoulders slumped back down as soon as they left the pillow.

Her breathing quickened, and a hint of frustration and resentment flashed in her eyes.

Arthur adjusted her pillow: "Your Highness, don't push yourself. All you need to do now is rest."

He held her hand, bowed slightly, and tried to make his voice closer and warmer: "I assure you, no matter how many conspiracies and schemes there are outside, no matter what storms there are, tonight, and every night after that, until you recover, I will be standing at your door."

Lyzen gently wiped away her tears with her sleeve, not daring to interrupt, but simply took a half step back, giving her place to Dr. John Snow, who was mixed in with Plunkett and the others.

Snow first spoke a few words in hushed tones with Mrs. Lezen, confirming Victoria's condition over the past few days. Then he took out several glass bottles and a medicine spoon from his medicine box, finely ground several herbs into powder, added them to the prepared medicine, and slowly stirred them into a warm mixture.

Upon seeing this, Arthur turned slightly back to Victoria.

He still held her hand, as if trying to transfer his strength to her, the warmth of his palm seeping into her cold fingertips little by little.

“Your Highness,” he said in a low voice, not wanting to disturb Snow’s preparation of the medicine, yet hoping she could hear him clearly, “you don’t need to pay attention to those annoying noises and troublesome faces outside for now. What you need to do is conserve your spirit and strength. You may not know, but I once waited for dawn in the coldest coffin, and saw the sky clear again in the thickest smoke and darkness. That moment of light was more precious than anything else; walking from darkness and suffering to light is the most beautiful thing.”

Victoria's lips trembled, as if she wanted to say something: "Teacher......"

Arthur smiled and continued for her, "Everything will be alright. I swear on my honor, your illness will eventually subside, your predicament will be resolved, and those petty people who try to exploit your will will be wiped out without exception. And when that time comes, you will stand up in your own way, facing the entire kingdom with dignity, and receiving the cheers of 2300 million Britons. Your Highness, you will have that moment, I promise you, you will have that moment."

Victoria's lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but due to the dryness and weakness in her throat, she could only let out a very soft breath.

But her gaze softened noticeably, as if Arthur were holding her in his palm, slowly dispelling her fear and unease.

"I...believe you."

(End of this chapter)