Chapter 2358: What a Sly Man, Hastings! (Part 3)

From what Arthur observed when he met Albert a few days ago, it seems this young man from the Saxon-Coburg-Gotha family really took Sir Arthur’s words to heart.

Albert used to favor a breakfast of buttered pancakes with honey, accompanied by two large sausages and fresh cream.

But since the end of last winter, under Stockma’s supervision, he’s changed it to rye bread, boiled eggs, and a small dish of apple slices.

Having undergone the baptism of the Swordsmanship Club at Bonn University, Albert’s swordsmanship might not be exceptional, but his energy and spirit have notably transformed.

The slightly hunched back from staying home reading for long periods has straightened, he lost fifteen pounds, and even grew a small mustache.

“Portrait of Prince Albert” drawn by the British painter W.C. Ross in 1840.

If the Russian Prince Alexander hadn’t appeared suddenly, Arthur almost felt Albert would surely succeed this time.

To ensure Albert made a strong impression on Victoria, Arthur even mobilized the fashion icon Mr. Disraeli to accompany the young man on several trips to Jermyn Street and ordered several sets of the latest fashionable styles for him.

Yet, despite Sir Arthur’s meticulous preparations for a dire situation, since Albert’s arrival in Britain, Victoria has yet to summon him.

On one hand, it’s because the Duchess of Kent, feeling melancholic, insisted on dragging her nephew to Kensington Palace for a good chat to keep her company.

On the other hand, Victoria’s impression of Albert remains stuck in the “little chubby” phase, and she’s quite unwilling to accept this marriage, though she doesn’t want to outright reject Uncle Leopold’s request, thus striving to avoid meeting Albert.

Victoria’s little thoughts are reflected in the letter she wrote to Uncle Leopold.

——”Despite all reports about Albert being very positive, and I almost have no doubt that I would like him, one can never pre-determine emotions, I might not experience the feelings necessary for ensuring happiness. I can like him as a friend, as a cousin, as a brother, but that’s all.”

Sigh…

Why go round and round like this?

You might as well say Albert isn’t handsome enough!

Victoria held her teacup but hesitated to drink, outwardly complaining about Albert while actually expressing disappointment about Alexander’s deceiving appearances.

“Albert is just too reserved. I know it’s not a flaw, but that reserve makes it difficult to know how to interact with him.”

Arthur slowly put down his teacup: “Indeed, restraint has been Prince Albert’s old problem. However, when I saw him recently, I found he appeared much improved, I almost didn’t recognize him.”

“You’ve seen Albert?” Victoria said in surprise: “You went to Kensington Palace?”

Arthur nodded slightly: “Flora’s health hasn’t been well lately, and her family isn’t in London at present, so the Marquis of Hastings had to write to me for help to look after her.”

Victoria softly murmured “Oh,” clearly intrigued.

“Has Albert changed a lot?”

“Not just a little.” Arthur didn’t look at her, continuing to cut the fried egg on his plate: “I’ve heard that over the past half year, Prince Albert has become fond of fencing and horseback riding. Rain or shine, he insists on riding around Bonn City every day, and spends almost every evening in the Swordsmanship Club. Baron Stockma has even admitted rarely seeing any young prince as disciplined as Prince Albert.”

Victoria’s demeanor remained indifferent, but her tone involuntarily lightened: “Exercise is good. Uncle always tells me to exercise more. However, fencing might not be suitable for Albert, right? Is he really diligently practicing swordsmanship?”

“Unless I compete with Prince Albert myself, I can’t guarantee it’s true.” Arthur put the fried egg in his mouth: “But I saw several blisters and calluses on his hands. It could be from practicing fencing, or maybe from gripping reins while riding; who can say for sure?”

Victoria couldn’t help but laugh: “A match between you and Albert? You are a Swordsmanship Master who has defeated the French Sword Saint Bertrand; even if Albert were a rare genius, he couldn’t defeat you within half a year, could he?”

Arthur pondered: “True, but if Prince Albert truly trained hard, he should be able to handle Bismarck.”

“Bismarck?” Victoria asked blankly: “Who is Bismarck?”

“He was my student when I taught at the University of Gottingen.” Arthur replied with a smile: “If you consider yourself stooping down a bit, you could be his fellow alumni. But, forgive me for saying, merely in terms of academic performance, your results were much better than Bismarck’s.”

“A student from Gottingen?” Victoria blinked, evidently curious about this unfamiliar peer: “So what is Mr. Bismarck doing now? Is he still at Gottingen?”

“Well… I’m afraid I’m not sure.”

“You don’t know? Weren’t you his mentor?”

“I was his mentor, true, but that guy might not admit it. Since I left Gottingen, Bismarck has never written to me.” Arthur lifted his teacup, gently swirling it, as if reminiscing about those young German students: “Knowing his disposition, it’s based on mood. Inspired, he might be working as a clerk in some Berlin appellate court, or in a fit of pique, he could have joined the military, wearing uniform chastising lads thinner than him. But most likely, he’s at home doing nothing, either bickering with fellow Junkers or drinking.”

Victoria couldn’t help but chuckle: “Sounds like Mr. Bismarck isn’t much of a good student.”

Arthur arched his eyebrow: “That guy? He hardly qualifies as a traditionally good student. But if he wishes to come to Britain, I could give him an opportunity. Unfortunately, he would never set aside his pride.”