Before coming to London, I had heard from Mr. Miller that this wedding procession would be far more splendid than any royal precedent.
What was it again? Originally, Prince George had an older brother named Albert, but because Albert died suddenly right after getting engaged, George had to take over the position of crown prince with his sister-in-law (Jean).
It reminded me of the common storyline of an arranged marriage, and it seemed that the citizens of London felt similarly.
Considering they purposely made the wedding march long and splendid to appease public sentiment.
But the problem was...
"Why are those kids in the wedding march?!"
"Well, um. Haha."
Bentley avoided my gaze. In fact, I wasn't looking at Bentley either.
My eyes were fixed on those who were dancing between the carriages, diligently following the procession, and even handing out flowers to the passing children.
In other words, I was captivated by the costumed parade of our fairy school children.
I had to gape at the elves with pointy ears, the bearded dwarves, the gilled nymphs, the sylphs with butterfly wings, and above all, the circus troupe dressed as Peter Perry.
Honestly, the quality was, to put it nicely, crude.
It looked like they tried their best with the makeup techniques of the late 19th century, but the gap compared to specialized future technology was inevitable.
I could barely recognize them from the fairy school uniforms that Bentley Publishing had illustrated.
The real question was, why on earth would they go to such lengths to dress up our kids even with that technology? I asked Bentley once more.
"Mr. Bentley."
"Yes, yes, author."
"Is that something the publishing company did?"
"Of course not. We're a publishing company that's just starting to get back on its feet. We don't have that capability."
So how, then, murmuring, Bentley told me a shocking story.
"Princess Mary of Teck, now the Duchess of York, is an avid reader of your work. It seems that's why."
"The esteemed princess?"
"Don't esteemed people get more enchanted by childhood fantasies? She even sent you fan letters, didn't you read them?"
How could I possibly find and read that one out of all those? I shook my head and sighed.
"So she decided to include the fairies in her wedding parade?"
"Yes, that's right. Haha, well, it's now a prominent part of British children's literature, so what's the harm in it being used in a royal wedding?"
I'm Korean, damn these English pirates.
I was taken aback by the audacity of these English pirates to use a foreigner as their representative.
"So the publishing company had no idea?"
"Of course not. How could we possibly get wind of such a thing? Especially something going into a royal event."
Well, that makes sense.
I nodded, licking my lips.
It's still an era where the concept of intellectual property isn't properly established.
If this had been the 21st century, they would have asked for my permission through the publishing company and even paid a modest fee.
But since it's the royal family, that's not happening.
What a waste, the royal wedding would have brought in a hefty sum.
Wait. Something clicked into place in my mind.
"A royal wedding."
"Author?"
"Hmm... No, I can't use that guy yet. But this one..."
For the first time in a while, my mind was spinning.
I unconsciously took out the small notebook and fountain pen from my inner pocket.
"Author?"
"Leave me be, Mr. Bentley."
"But Mr. Miller. What about the good view...?"
Scratch, scratch.
The fountain pen ran across the notebook as if spewing fire. My wrist danced, and my gaze was glued to the notebook.
"I think this is the second or third time I've seen this."
Mr. Miller said something, but I couldn't hear it.
"You'll see some good manuscripts soon."
My mind was already in the fairy forest with Peter.
Meanwhile, the spectacle was not only being observed by a foreigner from the distant future in the East.
In the heart of the City of London, the capital of the British Empire.
In the deepest part of it.
A place that wasn't dark, but was more secretive and confidential than anywhere else. An old woman with a stern face, dressed in a splendid gown, moved a white queen and said,
"The child likes it, so I eventually accepted, but honestly, I'm still not satisfied."
Check.
The path of the queen, who had just taken a knight, was blocked by the king. The middle-aged nobleman, who nodded, moved a pawn to block the path.
"There's nothing we can do if the parties involved like it."
"That's the problem. Sigh, there are so many literary masterpieces that are valuable and historically significant. But nowadays, kids are into detectives and fairies..."
"Haha, they're in the prime of their youth."
The nobleman said, sweating.
It wasn't just because the white knight had cleared the pawn, once again putting the king in danger.
It was because he feared that the old woman in front of him, simply because of a single misplaced word, might cancel the ongoing wedding.
She was the kind of person who would commit such an outrage without batting an eye.
Watching his opponent, the old woman chuckled lightly.
"Don't worry too much. I didn't change the crown princess because I know Mary is a sincere and lovely child."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
The Queen.
Franz von Teck, the father of the bride, swallowed hard as he observed the living catastrophe before him, the supreme being, Queen Victoria.
Meanwhile, he moved the king behind a bishop to avoid danger.
The Queen snorted again and said,
"I agreed to her wish because it was a rushed wedding while Mary was heartbroken, but from now on, such childish whims should be stopped for the dignity of the royal family."
"I will firmly convey this to my daughter."
"Good."
At that moment, the Queen's white bishop, which had been waiting for an opportunity from afar, swiftly approached and captured the black king. Franz swallowed hard.
So she was just playing to create time for conversation...
"Now go. Though I can't attend my grandchild's wedding due to my busy schedule... as a father of a daughter, shouldn't you hold the bride's hand?"
"Your Majesty's grace is immeasurable."
Duke Franz quickly bowed and left the Queen's room, almost as if fleeing.
Watching him go, Queen Victoria clicked her tongue and said,
"It's unfortunate that the future father-in-law of our British Empire is so dull."
Of course, that's precisely why he was chosen as an in-law... Queen Victoria rang the bell with a slight motion of her hand.
One ring was to clear the chessboard, and the other was for...
"Long live the Queen. Did you call for me?"
The man who entered the room, almost replacing the Duke of Teck, was wearing a navy uniform, but his name was not on the British Navy's list.
In fact, his name would not be on any official register in the world.
"What did you find from the investigation?"
"As previously reported, Hanslow Jin is undoubtedly an Asian."
The man approached the Queen and handed her a few photographs.
The photos were black and white, but it was clear that the person in them had the distinctive bone structure of an Asian.
Originally, the peculiar coolie, who was a servant or employee of art dealer Frederick Miller in Bentley Publishing and Christie's, and even earlier in Amsterdam and Paris, was somewhat known. Not famous enough to be well-known, but familiar in certain circles.
Queen Victoria, resting her chin on her hand, murmured discontentedly.
"Sigh. It's a pity. Just when I thought I could push out Japonisme... Anyway, the upper class in this country seems to have no intention of cherishing their own culture."
(Japonisme is a French term coined in the late nineteenth century to describe the craze for Japanese art and design in the West.)
Although she was born and raised in Germany, or perhaps because of that, Queen Victoria understood the power of culture very well.
People feel comforted and drawn to what they know well and see often.
That's what we broadly call culture.
However, the arts and culture of her country, England, were frankly lacking compared to Germany or France.
Music, art, philosophy... and of course, the most serious issue, cuisine.
The only somewhat leading field was literature.
Shakespeare, Jane Austen, George Gordon Byron, William Blake...
Therefore, the Queen had been subtly supporting theater companies and sponsoring opera houses to maintain the strength of high literature.
That effort paid off, and London became a place where the culture of serial novels blossomed.
Of course, because of this, the Royal Literary Society and popular literature were constantly at odds, but that was a sign of prosperity, so it was overlooked.
However, it turned out that the most popular author in this important literary field was Japanese...
"Truly pathetic," Queen Victoria sighed, but the man making the report shook his head and said,
"You can rest assured about that, Your Majesty."
"What do you mean?"
"Through various cross-verifications, we have discovered that Hanslow Jin is not of Japanese origin, and his lineage is not connected to Japan."
"Then, is he a Chinese from Hong Kong?"
"We couldn't obtain any significant information from the Hong Kong group in the East End either. Anthropologists also testified that he is too tall and has fair skin to be from Japan or China."
Then where on earth did he come from? Victoria furrowed her brow, trying to guess the origin of the coolie who seemed to have fallen from the sky.
"Could he really be a half-elf?"
That couldn't be true.
Thinking that she was just too tired, Victoria shook her head.
"If you permit, we could capture and torture him to reveal his identity..."
"There's no need for that."
The queen shook her head.
It's a bit disappointing that he's not British, but if he's from an unknown country that's neither Japan nor China, there's no need to be overly cautious.
"What good would it do for a weak and small country, so unknown that even you all don't know much about it, to plot something? Our British Empire is not that weak."
The British Empire, like a rock, had enough national power to be confident. Queen Victoria, believing this, dismissed the man.
The man, seeming to agree, bowed his head and left without further words.
Left alone, the queen took out a book that her new granddaughter-in-law had brought to the reception room.
"Kids these days," she said, but she slowly turned the pages.
Books with short sentences, easy for an old woman to read, were indeed rare in this era.
T/N:
Prince George, Duke of Kent, did not Marry his sister-in-law Jean, Countess of Strathmore and Kinghorne.