Chapter Sixty-Two: The Council

October 18, 2237, Houses of Parliament, London

“Mr. Benjamin, yes? I have long heard of your esteemed reputation, and now that we finally meet, you are indeed extraordinary!” At this moment, an earl was fawning over a baron.

“You must be Earl Feilong? The pleasure is mine. However… aren’t you aligned with the Princess’s faction? What’s this, have you taken a fancy to a member of the Trecy camp?” Benjamin announced his allegiance with no hesitation, and unceremoniously exposed Earl Feilong’s motives.

“Alas! It’s all for the sake of the royal family! As fellow members of the royal blood, we are all subjects of His Majesty the King. How can we let succession divide us into camps?” Earl Feilong’s tone was somewhat strained, but Benjamin paid him no heed.

“By the way, aren’t you supposed to be accompanying Her Highness the Princess? Why are you here speaking with me alone?” Benjamin knew full well that this question would elicit the answer he wanted.

“The Princess is unwell; the royal physician is attending to her in her chambers,” Earl Feilong replied, his tone tinged with unease. “Oh, and on my way here, someone handed me a note, asking me to pass it to you!” With that, Benjamin pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Earl Feilong.

The earl’s face turned ashen as he read: “Your beloved Princess is currently in the largest hospital in London. If you do not wish anything to happen to her, you’d best come at once!” No name was left, and the handwriting was printed.

“Who gave this to you? Did they say anything else?” The earl’s voice was tense.

“I didn’t recognize him. He just told me to open it and see. I have no idea what’s written inside,” Benjamin replied, leaving the earl somewhat crestfallen. But then he added, “However, I did manage to snap a photo of him.” He pulled out his phone to show the earl the image. To the earl’s astonishment, the figure in the photo caught his attention at once.

“A white Royal Academy uniform? No, that’s not the point—pardon me, Sir Benjamin, I must step out for a moment. We’ll speak after the session!” With these words, the earl hurriedly left the Houses of Parliament.

“All right, it’s time to take our seats now.”

Within the chamber, the King appeared before all, scepter in hand. The two princes sat beside the Scottish Liberal Party and the English Democratic Party, while the seats of the Welsh Party and the Irish Republican Party were occupied by the heads of the respective camps: Hugo de Rey, leader of the Trecy faction, and Linber du Bell, chief of the Irish delegation for the Princess’s camp.

The party leaders rose together, singing their national anthem, “God Save the King.” When the anthem concluded, each party leader reported on the year’s achievements as usual. The most pressing matter was the whereabouts of Prince Trecy, a subject typically addressed by the acting leader of the Welsh Party—the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Lord Hugo. As per tradition, he produced a letter “from” Prince Trecy and began to read:

“Dearest Father,

By the time you hear this letter, I may be fighting at the front under an assumed name or conducting research at the Royal Academy. You will never recognize me in disguise, for all you ever remember is my golden hair. My thanks to my teacher—the Father of the Royal Academy—Titan. Yet, I have seen him with my own eyes; he has become the leader of the Satans, one of the first infected, and the only one with such high intelligence.

I know my long absence has caused you worry, but I cannot reveal myself yet. All I can tell you is that I am alive and still directing my subordinates from the shadows. I have entrusted Hugo with a private letter for you, dear Father, explaining why I must act in this way.

Only recently did I learn of an Irish Princess’s faction. I do not know when I gained a sister; as I recall, my mother had already passed when I returned to this world. I am sorry I cannot attend in person, though I have always been present in spirit. This regret has weighed on me for a long time.

Very well! With my utmost respect to all present at Parliament, after this letter is read, my most trusted messenger will deliver a new one.

The undutiful son who cannot appear,
Trecy Misthra”

At that moment, a ringing phone drew the attention of the assembled ministers. Indeed, at each session, only one person was permitted to leave their phone’s ringer on—the acting leader of the Welsh Party, Grand Master Hugo. His phone was always fully charged and the ringer set to maximum, ready to receive any message from His Highness.

Sure enough, a new letter had arrived, and Hugo read it aloud:

“Honored Father,

I heard the Grand Master read my previous letter, and at this moment, I am right beside you. There is no need to search for me—you will not recognize me until you have seen the letter with my recent photo attached. By the way, wasn’t it only recently that you brought some people from the 22nd century here? As it happens, I too ‘luckily’ slipped in among them—though I no longer intend to use that identity. Guess my name if you can! Haven’t you always enjoyed playing this game with me, Father?

Recently, I received word that my sister, disguised as someone from the 22nd century, was wounded at the front and is now hospitalized. I have visited her and spoken with her captain. Do not try to use him to uncover my identity; he has agreed to assist me. The terms of our agreement, however, I will not disclose. Let Roger testify—he is my most loyal medical officer.

I have also heard of Baron Benjamin. He is a great philanthropist—I have investigated him myself. I hope Baron Benjamin will continue your charitable work. I will have Lord Hugo transfer my share of the discretionary assets to you for this purpose.

Watching over you all in silence,
Trecy Misthra”

“What? My elder brother is actually here? And he heard his own letter?” Quill exclaimed in shock. But just then, a voice came over the speakers:

“Did you really think I was dead? I simply have no wish to be in contact with you. Don’t bother searching—the signal is externally jammed; you’ll never trace its source. Oh, and I almost forgot your birthday presents! Rest assured, I’ll deliver them to your rooms myself. Tell me what you want—speak up!”

It was Prince Trecy’s voice, taunting the ministers. They glanced around, searching for anyone who might be the prince. Yet, on the Welsh Party’s side, there was not the slightest movement, as though they were openly protecting His Highness.

“Barolo!” “A weapon from ‘76!” The two princes called out their wishes, and to their surprise, their voices were broadcast back through the speakers. Charlie’s request was for an Italian red wine, knowing full well it would be difficult to conceal. Quill’s was to confirm the connection between ‘76 and their elder brother.

“Very well! Barolo, and… a weapon from ‘76, I’ve taken note! Farewell, then! And by the way, I’ll bring your Christmas presents as well!” Trecy’s voice echoed throughout the parliamentary chamber.