Her Majesty’s Secret Service

020. The Earl’s Friendship

My throat feels a bit scratchy, perhaps from reading aloud late into the night. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem to be hoarse, but it’s still slightly painful, making me dread tonight.

“Logan, what happened yesterday?”

Entering the kitchen, Marco approached me with a hushed voice, seemingly quite anxious.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been told we’ll talk about it this morning.”

At my response, Marco murmured to me with a voice filled with gratitude.

“Did you really speak directly to Her Majesty the Queen? My goodness, Logan… I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Feeling burdened by Marco’s repeated thanks, I calmed him down.

“Just calm down… Hey, no need for repayment. Just let me know if any strange rumors like yesterday start spreading.”

“Ah, of course, I can do that much for you.”

Even though I had somewhat blended into the kitchen environment, within the palace, I was a complete outsider.

Because of this, Marco became a reliable source of information for me, who was inevitably unaware of the palace’s news.

After exchanging greetings with Marco, I prepared breakfast as usual.

The routine continued: serving the prepared meal to the Queen, returning to the kitchen, and then killing time while preparing lunch.

Then, a voice broke the tranquility of the routine.

“Logan, are you here?”

The voice belonged to the housekeeper, Anne. Marco rushed to her, inquiring about her sudden visit.

“What’s the matter, Housekeeper? Is there a problem with the meal?”

“No, not at all. Her Majesty is always satisfied. It’s just that the Queen has decided to go on a procession to Dartford this afternoon.”

“Excuse me? Where are we heading to now… Did you say Dartford?”

Upon hearing the sudden news, Marco asked with a bewildered expression.

To Marco’s confusion, Anne nodded and clarified his doubts.

“Yes, that’s right. We will depart immediately after lunch, so Chef Marco, please prepare yourself. There was a specific request to bring Logan and Chef Marco along.”

After Anne finished speaking and left the kitchen, Marco let out an incredulous voice.

“My goodness… to think we are heading to Dartford…”

“What’s wrong with going to Dartford? Isn’t it a good thing?”

It must be a journey to alleviate the injustice suffered by Marco’s cousin, George.

It was puzzling to see Marco, who should be happy, looking so stunned. Not long after my words, Marco’s response came.

“Of course, it’s good news! Her Majesty herself is intervening… I never imagined such a thing could happen. What did you say yesterday that made Her Majesty take personal action?”

“I simply repeated what I heard. That someone had suffered an injustice… But is it really such a big deal that Her Majesty is embarking on a royal progress?”

“Well… the progress itself isn’t that remarkable. What surprises me is that Her Majesty decided to make a royal progress to Dartford because you reported the matter. You…”

Marco trailed off for a moment, then very cautiously, very carefully, he spoke again.

“Are you really… truly not involved with Her Majesty in any way…?”

“Please, not you too, Chef…”

With a sigh, as if pleading, Marco then cleared his throat a few times and changed the subject.

“Ahem… Let’s just focus on preparing lunch. Oliver! Oliver!”

Seeing Marco’s reaction, it was clear that strange rumors were spreading. The more those rumors spread, the better it was for me. Soon, those rumors would bring powerful people to my side.

But now, about this royal progress, should I pack some clothes to change into?

* * *

The steady drumming of the soldiers’ beats echoes tediously.

“Hurrah for Her Majesty the Queen!”

“Long live Her Majesty! May she live forever!”

Even though it’s been a while since the procession left London, the number of people eager to see the Queen’s face does not diminish.

At the very front of the procession, the Queen, mounted on a white horse, waving her hand, comes into view, albeit faintly.

Well, I’ll be! There are even a few who, from who knows where, scatter flower petals.

“Marco, is a procession always like this?”

“What, the reaction of these people? It’s only natural. It’s been years since we’ve had a monarch with ‘true faith.'”

“Really? True faith? You mean Catholicism?”

“What else could true faith be? Speaking of which, King Henry and King Edward went too far. In fact, in the countryside, many more believe in the true faith. That’s because King Henry…”

Marco’s explanation becomes lengthy. Having worked in the royal household for six years, he’s quite the political expert.

Surprisingly, the Queen’s popularity seems good. It was new to me that most of the peasants believed in Catholicism.

So, listening to Marco’s stories, and amid the cheering voices of the peasants for the Queen and the tiresome drumming, we walked for a long time. The procession stopped in a city called Wellings, and it was decided to spend the night there.

The Queen’s meal was taken care of by the local nobility, so there was no work to be done today.

According to Marco, this too is an important part of the procession. It’s a procedure to show how much they trust him.

While the Queen dined, all the attendants finished their dinner as well.

After dinner, the fatigue from half a day’s walk hit us, and soon we began to fall asleep.

According to Marco, Wellings is just a stone’s throw away from Dartford, so we should arrive in Dartford around noon tomorrow.

And so, the first night of the procession passed.

* * *

At the age of 59, the life of Henry Grey, the 4th Earl of Kent, was marked by effort.

Richard Grey, his half-brother and the previous Earl, was addicted to gambling. He squandered the family fortune and died childless, which is how Henry came to inherit the title.

Even when he assumed the earldom at the age of twenty-nine, the House of Kent was but a noble name with little substance left.

But Earl Henry did not give up. He spared no effort in reclaiming the wealth his predecessor had lost. And his efforts bore fruit.

The current Grey House of Kent can proudly claim to have regained its former glory. It is truly the result of Henry Grey’s youth consumed by fire.

Henry Grey believed he deserved to spend his twilight years in peace. He wished to enjoy tranquility, sitting in the restored family manor, sipping wine, dining on fine meat, and whispering love to his beloved wife.

“It was you who caused this trouble, yet why am I the one dealing with it… You fools, speak up. What were you thinking, committing such acts?”

“We had no idea that place was virtually under royal jurisdiction! Please spare us, Earl! Just once, just once…!”

“Yes, would we have done such a thing had we known? Please, Earl, have mercy!”

“Despicable scoundrels. To think that’s an excuse…!”

The Earl, who should have been enjoying peace in his manor, was now in Dartford because of these two fools.

“You thankless brats, be grateful to your father. If it weren’t for him, you’d be dead by my hand! Understand?”

During the time when he was paying off debts, the Earl had lent his name to merchants to gather funds.

The merchants used the Earl’s name to smoothly carry out pasture burning in Kent, and a portion of the profits from the ranches thus established went into the Earl’s pocket to pay off gambling debts.

The merchants kneeling before the Earl, begging for mercy, were the sons of the first merchant he had dealt with.

The merchant he had dealt with had long since died of old age, but the Earl, considering their past relationship, had not reclaimed the document that allowed his name to be used. His foolish sons had finally caused trouble.

“Your father worried about you until his dying breath, and now I see why. How could you, merchants of Kent, not know that Dartford is virtually under royal jurisdiction? What to do with these fools…”

With a cluck of his tongue, Earl Henry looked at the two fools with icy eyes.

The Earl sighed deeply, looking at these fools who couldn’t even meet his gaze properly.

“Ah… because of you, I’m wasting money needlessly. For now, leave yourselves just enough to live on and vomit up the rest. If you want to keep your heads on your shoulders, that is.”

“What? You… That’s too much, Count. Do we look that foolish to you?”

“Exactly! Even if we have meddled with the royal direct-controlled land, it’s before we’ve plowed the ground, so maybe, just maybe, we could be forgiven with a small fine…”

The Count was incredulous at the two men who boldly spat out such foolish words. He even wondered if they were making light of him, trusting in the connection with his father.

“It seems you haven’t grasped the situation yet. The Queen is coming here with ‘Richard Morgan,’ you fools. Do you understand what that means?”

“What? Who is that?”

“Merchants as dimwitted as you! If it weren’t for his sons, you would have already… Hmph, I should hold my tongue.”

The Count sighed deeply once more.

“Don’t argue, just sign this document. It’s a power of attorney, entrusting your properties to me. With this, I might just spare your necks.”

“Our necks? We were only expecting a fine…”

“Are you still spouting such idiocy? Do you think you’re nobles like me? Just merchants who have tampered with the royal family and still naively think it will end with a fine!”

The Count’s voice rose in anger. He struck the two merchants on the head. A loud smack echoed.

“Why don’t you understand that I’m doing this to save your necks! Can’t you just shut up and sign?”

Crushed by his fierce voice, the two men eventually signed the power of attorney.

The Count pressed his temples as if in pain, pondering.

‘Bringing the ordinary court judge Richard means they don’t intend to accuse me of treason. The property these fools inherited from their friend is substantial… and combined with what they’ve done in Kent these past few months… well… it should cover the fine.’

The Count planned to swallow the merchants’ properties whole and present them to the Queen.

It was a deviation of fools who had sold his name, not him who had directly touched the royal direct-controlled land. He reasoned that if he volunteered his property as a donation, the Queen would have no proper grounds to punish him.

With his relative, the Duke of Suffolk Henry, being pursued for treason, he had to be cautious. He couldn’t predict how the sparks might fly.

Had the Queen not intervened, he wouldn’t have thought of seizing the property. But now that she had, it was clear that harm would come even to him, who had lent his name.

The Count resolved to adhere to the principle he had maintained since he inherited the title of Earl of Kent at the age of twenty-nine, thirty years ago.

‘You should never engage in a losing business. Yes, indeed.’

If the wealth of those two were scraped together, it would surely amount to about one-tenth of the Earl’s estate. Having once been business partners, he was already well aware of its extent.

The Earl received the signed pledges from the two merchants, having completed their signatures.

I hear the Queen is currently staying in Wellings. She should arrive in Dartford by tomorrow.

‘To be doing such things in the years meant for rest…’

The Earl sighed deeply once more, suppressing the irritation that was rising within him.

Footnote:

*The Earl of Kent is also named Henry Grey, as is the father of Jane Grey, the Duke of Suffolk. Although they share the same Grey lineage, their relationship wasn’t very deep.

*During the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, monasteries were destroyed, and Catholics were oppressed, but Catholicism was still the predominant religion in England. Thus, when Mary, a Catholic queen, ascended to the throne, her approval ratings were tremendous. However, within half a year of her coronation, the announcement of her marriage to Philip…