Chapter 2374 - 305: First Meeting? Final Farewell? (Part 3)

Blackwell breathed a sigh of relief at the sight, then laughed and said, "It’s my honor to be of assistance, Sir."

"Ah!" Just after saying that, Blackwell suddenly remembered something, hurriedly fumbled out an envelope from his pocket, "I almost forgot, Sir, Miss Hastings asked me to give this to you."

Arthur took the envelope, tore open the wax seal on it, and took out the letter inside.

He glanced at the letter briefly, then refolded it and put it back into the envelope, as if there was nothing in it that particularly caught his attention.

"Let’s go."

Blackwell followed closely behind Arthur, either out of curiosity or because he was no longer enamored with the generous remuneration and position of a private secretary.

Driven by curiosity, he asked hesitantly, "Miss Hastings... she... isn’t upset with you, is she? Considering today’s situation..."

Arthur stopped in his tracks, standing still.

Blackwell’s heart tightened, and as a private secretary, he stood at attention; if possible, he wished he could slap his own uncooperative mouth.

"Henry."

"Yes, Sir."

Arthur raised his head, looking at the train timetable hanging high up, where the Red Devil was sitting, brazenly mocking.

Blackwell bowed his head, silently reciting in his heart, "It’s over, it’s over, I’m definitely going to be dispatched to Newgate Prison to sit on the cold bench now."

He gathered courage with great difficulty, intending to apologize to Arthur in person; unexpectedly, when he looked up, Arthur was already nowhere to be seen.

"Sir? Sir!"

Blackwell stood amidst the crowd at the station, looking around tirelessly. People passed through the bustling hall, their footsteps echoing in the spacious space. However, no matter how he searched, Arthur was still nowhere to be found, only dust and steam lingered everywhere.

...

At Buckingham Palace, the curtains of Victoria’s bedroom were pulled half open, sunlight shone on her writing desk, illuminating the white feather pen and ink bottle she was using.

June 28th, Thursday.

I was awakened by the sound of salutes from Hyde Park at four o’clock, and later, due to the clamor of the crowd and the band’s performance, I couldn’t fall into a sound sleep.

I felt energetic upon getting up at seven, and physical well-being. Through the window glass, I saw a peculiar scene in the park, Constitution Hill crowded with people, soldiers lined up, the band playing music. After breakfast, I walked into the dressing room to change into ceremonial clothes. Today, I wore a white satin slip embroidered with gold underneath, draped with a crimson coronation robe. The train of the robe was too long, making it appear very cumbersome and awkward, but the tiara adorned with splendid diamonds and the white satin shoes looked wonderful.

Leisen cried upon seeing my full attire, and I followed suit. I understand her hardships throughout the years, just as she understands mine.

After leaving the dressing room, I met Uncle Ernest, Brother Charles, and Sister Feodora. Lady Lansdowne, Lady Normanby, Lady Dalmo, and the Duchess of Sutherland were waiting outside the dressing room in ceremonial attire as well.

Of course, the most noteworthy among them is Albert, who today looks more handsome than ever before. He’s always so shy, especially in front of me. But today, his smile seemed to carry more warmth and concern. He told me that he had prepared a piece for the coronation ceremony together with Sir Arthur, just like the Wellington March last year.

How strange...

I should be delighted by a piece of music; is it because its author is Sir Arthur, or because its author is Albert?

Could it be the proximity of the coronation ceremony that has subtly changed the emotions between us unexpectedly?

...

Upon writing this, Victoria’s heart fluttered slightly.

She raised her head, her thoughts seemed to linger on Albert’s warm smile.

Looking down at her diary, she wrote the last line, took a deep breath, and finally closed that exquisite diary.

Just as she placed the diary back on the desk, a maid’s urging voice came from outside, "Her Majesty the Queen, the ceremonial carriage is ready, the Duchess of Sutherland and Lord Albermarle are waiting outside, you must depart for Westminster now."