Chapter 2361 - 300: The Most Loyal of Loyalists, the Most Knightly of Knights

The office of the Home Office, morning light slicing through the gaps of the blinds onto the carpet.

Arthur lounged lazily in his chair, legs propped on the desk, a pipe in his mouth, holding a copy of The Times. From his series of body language, it was hard to discern just how much respect this guy still had for the sacred Home Office.

A knock came from outside the door.

"Sir, it’s Blackwell."

Arthur couldn’t even be bothered to put his legs down, he merely lifted his chin: "Enter."

Blackwell pushed the door open and came in. The private secretary showed no surprise at the image of his boss.

Ever since the Alan Pinkerton case, Sir Arthur, who was usually meticulous at the Home Office, had adopted this slacker attitude.

But you couldn’t completely blame him; as the saying goes, even a clay figure has some anger, let alone the permanent undersecretary at the Home Office?

Just because of one Alan Pinkerton, Sir Arthur had been stripped of so much power, they even meddled in the police system—who could tolerate that?

Nowadays, unless the minister himself came to see Arthur, no one at the Home Office could make him take his legs off the desk.

Of course, since the minister usually called Arthur over to see him when there was a matter, the reality was that Sir Arthur’s legs were basically permanently nailed to the desk.

Blackwell stood in front of the desk, lightly pushing forward the memo in his hand: "Sir... about having us keep an eye on the Russian delegation, we have some leads."

Arthur, with the pipe in his mouth, didn’t even bother to lift his eyes, just grunted in response as if replying to a piece of editorial about the coronation security plan leak in the newspaper.

Fortunately, Blackwell had long been accustomed to Arthur’s style. He continued, "Yesterday afternoon at three, Count Stroganov, the Russian envoy, held an hour-long meeting with Count Di Borgo, the Russian Ambassador to the United Kingdom, and after Count Stroganov left the embassy and returned to his place, a member of the Russian delegation left the residence and went to the post office on Saint Martin’s Lane. After communicating with the Post Office, we learned that this member sent a letter to St. Petersburg."

Upon hearing this, Arthur finally moved the newspaper away from his eyes slowly: "So quickly? The Russians are more efficient than I imagined."

"Quick?" Blackwell felt a twinge of alarm, knowing well what Arthur had done in the Caucasus back in the day: "Sir, do you have any plans?"

"Plans? What plans could I have? I’m just a powerless permanent undersecretary, the weakest link in the tightly safeguarded coronation ceremony." Arthur took a puff from his pipe: "Henry, don’t forget, as far as the members of the Coronation Committee are concerned, I’m only fit to sit at a table with musicians like Liszt, which really flatters me."

Blackwell pretended not to understand Arthur’s sarcastic tone and responded calmly as a private secretary: "Sir, no matter what the Coronation Committee thinks of you... the Russians obviously have you in mind. I beg your pardon, but hurting old friends—doing it once is already too much."

Hearing Blackwell’s artful expression, Arthur couldn’t help but regard him with new esteem: "You’ve only just arrived at the Home Office, yet you’ve quickly grasped the art of language at the Home Office. Alright, I finally understand why White Hall always likes to recruit from Oxford. Oxford graduates like you can seamlessly integrate into this work environment."

Blackwell turned the tables by saying, "As you taught me that Chinese proverb goes, flies don’t bother a seamless egg."

Hearing these words, Arthur finally raised the white flag.

"Don’t worry, on Her Majesty the Queen’s day of joy, I have no intention of causing trouble for her, nor do I plan to harm our Russian friends. On the contrary, I am doing my utmost to make up for the guilt I feel towards His Majesty the Tsar. After all, I am a Saint Anna Knight of Russia and must contribute to the country’s long-term peace."

"And the incident in the Caucasus?"

"Who hasn’t been a bit reckless in their youth? And who hasn’t made mistakes in their life?" Arthur lectured: "Just like Alan Pinkerton at the University of London, I too once was blinded by radicalism, but ultimately, a person, after maturing, will mend their ways."

Blackwell didn’t buy a word of this bullshit, if it were before, he would’ve probably brushed it off without concern.

But there’s no choice now, like many others, Mr. Blackwell placed his entire future and honor upon Arthur. Therefore, even if certain words aren’t pleasant, they must be said.

With a heavy heart, Blackwell opened his mouth resolutely: "Although one ultimately will mend their ways, Sir, if I may speak frankly, given that the security plan just had a problem, everyone outside is fixated on you; at this stage, you can’t withstand a second ’mending of ways.’"

Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but speak with righteousness: "Heaven help me! I am utterly loyal to Her Majesty the Queen and dutiful to the state government. I admit, the security plan had issues, but does that mean they can casually frame the loyal and good?"

Despite Blackwell’s heavy mood, he almost failed to keep it together after hearing this segment; fortunately, his excellent professionalism finally helped control the upturned corners of his mouth: "Sir, of course, I didn’t mean that, but the more loyal one is, the easier it is to become a target for framing, especially during such sensitive times on the eve of the coronation."