Chapter 1902: Chapter 1902

Having been up nearly all night, Jenkins didn't even stop for breakfast at home after sunrise. Instead, he headed straight for the Windsor family's city residence.

It was so early that even Duke Windsor had yet to leave for the day. Before Jenkins could see Jessica, he first had an audience with the Duke.

The Duke, arguably the most powerful man in the kingdom, invited Jenkins to join the family for breakfast. But first, the two of them retired to the study for a private conversation.

Jenkins stood by the window, arms folded, gazing out at the early morning scene in the courtyard. Though it was summer, the sky had not yet fully brightened at this hour. The glare of the study's gas lamp was so intense that it cast a reflection of half his face onto the windowpane.

Duke Windsor, meanwhile, was seated at his imposingly grand brown desk. He wasn't looking at Jenkins either. His right hand rested on the tabletop, his index finger tapping out a steady rhythm as he stared at the oil portrait on the opposite wall—a lavishly dressed ancestor of the Windsor family.

The study's decor was a world away from Jenkins's home. A red carpet covered the floor, the walls were a dark, sallow yellow, and all the furniture was a uniform deep brown. It lacked any sense of homeliness, feeling more like a formal, public space designed for social functions.

"How are things progressing for the weekend?"

The Duke had never been involved in Jenkins's bid for the throne in any capacity, nor had he ever commented on his daughter's assistance, acting as if he were completely oblivious. Jenkins, however, never for a moment believed the man was truly in the dark. So, when Duke Windsor broke the silence to ask about matters that were supposed to be confidential, Jenkins wasn't surprised in the least.

He watched his own reflection in the glass, his eyes narrowing.

Duke Windsor was a powerfully built man in his fifties, though the signs of age were beginning to show. He looked remarkably young compared to Bishop Parrold, who was several years his senior, but his energy and spirit were no match for the equally busy bishop's.

"My daughter is exceptional, of course," he stated.

He stopped tapping his index finger, placing both arms on the desk and clasping his hands. His gaze lifted back to the oil painting across from him, as if lost in remembrance.

"And what about your preparations?"

"Everything's in order. I'm ready."

Jenkins stared at his reflection's eyes in the glass.

"And the army? No issues there?"

"Should any issues arise, King Salsi II will lend his support."

He made no attempt to conceal this, a statement that revealed a great deal. Duke Windsor nodded.

"I see. In that case, your plan is indeed foolproof. But the Queen... she's not one to admit defeat so easily."

"I can wait no longer. If things don't go smoothly this weekend... I will force them to. I absolutely cannot allow myself to be bogged down by this."

Noticing Jenkins's grim expression, the look of a man steeling his resolve, Chocolate let out a soft meow and rubbed its furry cheek against his. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on NoveI-Fire.ɴet

Duke Windsor paid no mind to the interaction between Jenkins and his cat. He slowly pulled open the top right drawer of his desk and, with a sharp slap, tossed a folder onto the tabletop.

"This might be of some use to you."

Jenkins turned to look at the folder but didn't move to retrieve it. Instead, he walked over to the sofa set before the desk and sat down, directly facing the Duke.

"You needn't worry. Failure is not an option."

"Confidence is a fine thing in a young man."

Duke Windsor finally tore his gaze from the portrait and fixed it on Jenkins's face.

"Then what, exactly, is going on between you and Jessica?"

Jenkins knew this was the real reason for their conversation.

"It's exactly as you've heard."

he replied. Duke Windsor said nothing, merely watching him, waiting to ensure he had nothing more to add before slowly, heavily, bringing his hand down on the desk.

"I gave her the finest education, yet I neglected to teach her the one crucial lesson: that handsome men are the greatest obstacles on a woman's path."

"I have no intention of subsuming House Windsor."

"There is a difference between now and the future, just as there is a difference between you and her."

Duke Windsor said, his palm still flat on the desk. He drew his head back slightly before lunging forward, his eyes bulging as he glared at Jenkins.

"Williamette, if you want that throne, then take it. You are the heir to the House of Middleton, and I will not oppose you. But do not reach for what is not yours."

Jenkins rose to his feet, smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes. He then lifted the cat, which had been standing on the sofa, and placed it on his shoulder.

The sofa was lower than the chair behind the grand desk, forcing Jenkins to look up at the Duke while seated. Now that he was standing, it was the Duke who had to raise his head to meet his gaze.

"Frankly, House Windsor is beneath my notice."

The Duke's tone shifted in an instant. The tense expression on his face vanished, replaced by one of affability.

"Then when do you plan on marrying Jessica?"

A date his mother, Mary Williams, had coerced him into agreeing to just last night.

"Summer? Excellent. That provides ample time for preparations without dragging things out."

Duke Windsor nodded. He rose as well and walked toward the study door.

"It's time. Let's go to breakfast."

But with his hand on the knob, he hesitated. His back still to Jenkins, he stared at the door and asked in a low voice,

"You aren't just using Jessica, are you?"

"The gods will bless our union."

Jessica, who had just come down to the dining room after being attended by her servants, was quite surprised to find Jenkins at her home so early in the morning. She was even more astonished to see him chatting and laughing amicably with her father. The two of them appeared unusually congenial, and during their conversation, the Duke even let slip that he was aware of the engagement Jessica had arranged of her own accord.

After breakfast, Jenkins asked to speak with Jessica privately. Assuming he wanted to discuss their weekend plans to force Queen Isabella's abdication, she suggested they not talk at the house. Instead, she led him to a comfortable private club nearby.

"I need something from you."

Jenkins got straight to the point as soon as the maid who brought their tea had shut the door firmly behind her.

"Something that is very important to you. And I need you to give it to me now."

Sitting on the plush sofa, Jessica glanced nervously over her shoulder at the large bed behind them—she had no idea why she'd led Jenkins into this particular room. She tapped her forehead.

"Jenkins wouldn't... No, I must be getting the wrong idea," she muttered to herself.

Jenkins asked, confused.

"It's nothing. So, what is it that you need?"

A King Soul could be transferred through a pledge of fealty—a fact already proven with Sigrid Capet. The previous day's venture into the Mysterious Realm had finally allowed the Dark Soul within Jessica to fully mature, and Jenkins had no intention of waiting any longer to claim it.

Jessica, of course, had no objection. Yet when they performed the ritual of fealty, nothing happened—just as it had been with Dolores.

Jenkins slumped back into his chair, the soft backrest cushioning his fall, and tried to figure out what unforeseen complication had arisen this time. Jessica sat across from him, not in a similar armchair, but on an ornate, white-lacquered wooden chair with intricate carvings.

"Oh, Jenkins, hold on a moment," she said. "Someone wants to speak with you."

She had been leaning forward to pick up her teacup when she abruptly straightened and spoke. Her head then lolled back as if she had fainted, but before her back could even touch the chair, her head snapped forward again, her posture returning to normal.

Jessica looked at Jenkins, her eyes filled with a new, appraising light.

Jenkins asked, stroking the cat nestled obediently on his lap.

"By your and her understanding, I am the first Jessica Windsor you met. Of course, to make things easier to distinguish in the future, we've already discussed it. You can refer to her..."

She pointed to her heart, indicating Jessica's original self.

"...as Jessica. You can call me J-Miss."

She pointed to her own head, indicating the soul now conversing with Jenkins.

"And the last one, please call her Miss Windsor."

"I understand. If that is what you all wish... Then, regarding the Dark Soul, why isn't Miss Windsor the one explaining this? I would think that, as a former demigod, she would be the most qualified."

The current J-Miss, while also a queen in her own right, was only human.

"Are you displeased to see me?"

"Of course not. What makes you say that?"

Jenkins replied breezily.

"Very well. We've agreed to take turns appearing. That way, no one grows resentful from being cut off from the world for too long... Speaking of which, this 'real world' of yours doesn't seem any different from my own."

"Speaking of which, I still haven't taken you to task for tagging along with Jessica uninvited. Fine, fine, I won't. Don't look at me like that; I'm only joking. As for the world's 'reality,' it's all relative. If you believe it's real, then it is. This world is fascinating; sometimes, thought truly can influence matter... But let's table that for now. You were going to explain about the King Soul? What did Miss Windsor say?"

He steered the conversation back on topic. Though he had known this J-Miss for less than an hour, they spoke with the ease of old friends. She was clearly influenced by Jessica's soul, and for his part, Jenkins found her so remarkably similar to Jessica that the familiarity came naturally.

"Yes," she said. "None of the three of us have ever experienced a King Soul transfer, but Miss Windsor has a theory."