Chapter 1960: Chapter 1960

As the group continued their stroll, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves suddenly echoed from behind.

The royal guards spun around, instantly on alert, only to see Jessica Windsor approaching at a gallop. Dressed in a dashing, gender-neutral grey hunting suit and a deerstalker cap, she expertly handled a powerful black steed.

As for which version of Jessica Windsor this was, only Jenkins could truly tell.

She pulled sharply on the reins, halting her horse beside them before dismounting with practiced ease.

"You're a grown woman now, what are you doing tearing about on horseback? And where on earth did you get that outfit?"

Queen Isabella asked, her tone tinged with disapproval.

"They're my own clothes, of course. I heard Jenkins was at the stables and thought we might get a ride in together."

J-Miss boldly reached out and stroked Jenkins's cheek, an act that only deepened Queen Isabella's frown.

J-Miss posed the question, then turned to Jenkins with a smile:

"You used to be the free one, able to go wherever you pleased. Now, I'm the one who's free. Apart from you, there's nothing left to hold me back. At my age, I can finally enjoy the life that should have been mine all along."

Half of that speech had been coached by Jenkins, the other half was J-Miss's own invention. It could almost be considered a genuine outpouring of emotion; even Queen Isabella, who had watched the girl grow up, couldn't tell if she was lying.

"Did you detest your old life so much?"

Queen Isabella inquired.

"Of course I didn't detest it, but I can't say I loved it, either. It was just... boring. Yes, that's the word. Boring. While it offered a certain sense of accomplishment, I don't want to be an old woman looking back on my twenties and remember nothing but tedious affairs."

Then, going completely off-script, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Jenkins's cheek. She gave a sharp whistle, summoning her horse from where it was grazing nearby, and swung herself gracefully into the saddle:

"Jenkins, I've accepted the five o'clock press conference on your behalf. Remember to be ready. I'll have a carriage sent for you. Now, it's time for a proper ride!"

With that, she leaned low over the horse's neck and, under the watchful eyes of the entire party, galloped across the field and into the distance. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on NoveI(F)ire.net

"Did you arrange for her to show up just now?"

Queen Isabella asked once J-Miss's figure had vanished completely.

"Of course not. Besides, you were the one who brought up the topic of one's youth."

In truth, however, Jenkins had used his Spiritual Communion ability to convey the topic of their conversation to J-Miss the moment she had dismounted.

The two resumed their walk, saying no more about the departed J-Miss.

"Jessica has a point. A girl her age does need some freedom to experience life. Otherwise, once she's married with children, she'll never know the feeling again."

"Please don't make me sound so terrible."

"I'm not making you sound terrible; I'm describing a universal phenomenon. Jenkins, I have lived a very long time. In the half-century I've been on this throne, everything has changed at a blinding pace—our lives, our architecture, our nation. The only constants are men's insufferable need for control and their vanity. Before marriage, girls are like larks in the spotlight. After, they become sparrows trapped in a cage. The world has always been this way. Even as everything else changes, that much never will."

Jenkins found he couldn't refute that point. As far as he could see, even if this world were to advance another two hundred years, Queen Isabella's assessment would likely still hold true.

"Then let's continue talking about you. After the late king passed away, did you inherit the throne immediately?"

This was a story from a bygone era, one Jenkins had never thought to ask about.

"Of course not. At the time, though the Middleton line was thin, it wasn't as if your family was the only one left, as it is now. The king's death was sudden, due to illness. He left a will, but no one could prove its authenticity. Even I could only attest to its contents; the king had made a verbal promise to me, but the witnesses who should have been present had all vanished after his passing. To this day, I don't know what happened...

As was customary, the bulk of his private estate was left to me. That was my due, and no one would object. You've probably heard the rumors that the king left the throne to me. Indeed, the will stated as much, and he had told me so himself before he died, but I was the only one who knew of that verbal promise. Now, after ruling this country for over half a century, I can make anyone believe it. But back then, I didn't even dare speak of it."

Jenkins understood completely. In such a precarious position, no one would have believed her.

"And so, the throne should have gone to Duke Sidrol, who was still alive at the time."

The duke had long since passed away. He was, in fact, a distant cousin of the previous king—they shared a great-grandfather, making their blood relation similar to that between Jenkins and Sigrid.

The duke and the late king had a notoriously poor relationship. Even the original Jenkins, half a century later, had heard tales of how the two Middleton descendants had nearly come to blows in an opera house, their guards ready to draw swords.

The feud was said to have started two generations prior, also concerning the throne. These were court secrets, the truth of which Jenkins would only learn once he officially moved into the Cold Spring Palace.

"But before the succession could begin, Sidrol also passed away... in a terrible accident."

"Was it really just an accident?"

Queen Isabella shot him a look.

"I've often wondered that myself. But you needn't suspect me. At the time, I was merely the late king's young widow. I had no power to assassinate a duke and leave no trace."

"I wasn't suspecting you."

He quickly assured her, knowing she was telling the truth.

"After the duke's death, the line of succession fell to the next in line, Baroness Ruth Chidaro."

"Did she die as well?"

"Of course not. How could two heirs possibly die in succession..."

She trailed off, a flicker in her eyes suggesting she was recalling her own recent, and far more successful, thinning of the line of succession.

"The Baroness was a very distant relative of the Middleton family, so distant she shouldn't have even been considered a member. She had a terrible reputation, and had for a very long time. When they found her and informed her that the throne would fall to her, the woman declared that upon her ascension, she would make all of her male lovers members of the Upper House..."

The old woman shook her head. She and Jenkins paused again, watching the young men galloping in the distance. Even from so far away, they could faintly feel the vibration of the ground as the hooves thundered across the grass, though not enough to kick up any dust.

"I vetoed her. Although I had no claim to the throne myself, I still had some influence over the succession. Besides, no one could stand the woman. Even the nobles who wanted a puppet on the throne would at least have the sense to find one with a decent reputation.

In the end, we searched and searched, but there wasn't a single suitable candidate. During the interregnum, it was I who managed all the affairs of the nation. So, the people accepted the reality of the situation. They came to believe parts of the will, and in accordance with its text, the throne passed to me."

She paused, lost in a memory of what followed.

"It was an incredibly strange position to be in. Even though the late king had said he would leave the throne to me, I was utterly unprepared. I hadn't given it a single thought. Aside from a few friends like Madeline, I had no supporters, no followers. Those first few years... they were agonizing. The affairs of the state, foreign matters, the opposition factions..."

She seemed to drift into her memories, her voice trailing off without her even noticing. Jenkins didn't disturb her, simply continuing to walk by her side.

The sunlight was muted behind a grey haze, and a breeze began to stir, bringing with it a welcome coolness.

It was a familiar voice again. Jessica Windsor stood a short distance ahead, waving at them—unquestionably at Jenkins. She wore a beautiful blue dress, flanked by two maids, looking for all the world like a noble lady on a countryside outing.

A warm smile graced her features as she watched Jenkins approach, her expression a sweet, honey-like display of affection.

She hurried forward to meet Jenkins and gave him a warm embrace:

"I knew I'd find you here."

"Jessica, how did you change your clothes so quickly?"

Queen Isabella asked, snapped out of her memories by the unexpected sight.

Jessica shook her head:

"I've been wearing this all along."

She glanced back at her two maids, who immediately confirmed that Miss Windsor had been wearing the lovely dress ever since her arrival at the stables an hour ago, and had not changed at all.

Jessica clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at Jenkins, rising slightly on her toes in a gesture that was both reserved and shy:

"Are you free this evening? For dinner?"

"Ah, no, I'm having dinner with my family. Would you care to join us?"

She nodded with a smile, then added:

"Remember to head home early. You've had quite a day of it. Let me see, they're calling you the 'Fabry-Buster' now."

"I've only been out of the city for three hours, how..."

"People are always keen on such things, especially when a charming lady and a commendable scheme are involved. I know this is difficult for you, but you've finally earned Her Majesty's approval. You've made it through the hardest part. Things will only get better from here."