The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 1754 - 81: Destined Calamity (Part 3)

Could it be because I didn’t give her a signature?

As Eld thought about it, he started rummaging in his jacket pocket for a pen.

"Your Highness, Your Highness, please step back!" A Navy Department official in a black tailcoat, with a silver badge on his chest, rushed out from under the parasol, his face full of panic as he blocked the two of them, reaching out to stop Eld, who was about to salute again.

Following closely was the fifth Duke of Grafton, Henry Fitzroy, with neatly combed silver hair. He walked with a difficult expression while shouting to Colonel Fitzroy, "Robert, what foolish thing are your men doing?"

Colonel Fitzroy, although unsure of the specific situation, showed no better reaction than Eld upon hearing his uncle’s rebuke.

He sullenly removed his hat and gave a slightly stiff military salute to his uncle, "Uncle Henry, today you..."

The Duke of Grafton was so angry that he said, "How many times have I told you, use the title while at work!"

Colonel Fitzroy blushed and stood at attention, "Sorry, Your Excellency, Duke."

The Duke of Grafton quickly stepped forward, pulling out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

He briskly approached Victoria, paused, then knelt on one knee, lowered his head, and bowed, "Your Highness, I solemnly apologize on behalf of my nephew for his subordinate’s recent rudeness and recklessness."

The Port Authority officials quickly stepped forward as well, removing their hats and speaking in a near-regretful tone, "Your Highness, the fault is ours. The ship His Majesty Leopold is on was originally scheduled to enter the port before the Beagle. We do not know why, but the Beagle arrived in London earlier. Although we informed the Duchess of Kent about this half an hour ago, we forgot that you might not know, this... this is entirely our oversight."

The Port Authority’s apology had just concluded when an unexpected commotion interrupted the tense atmosphere.

"Move aside, don’t step on my shoes!"

"Alexander, now is the time for your bulk to shine, push forward!"

"Oh! Dear God! My waist!"

The crowd suddenly swayed, and a well-dressed gentleman was forcibly squeezed out of the throng, then two more figures tumbled onto him.

After a crushing blow like Mount Tai on Arthur, Great Dumas and Dickens rolled like two overturned pillbugs to the vacant ground nearby.

"Damn it! Charles! Alexander!" Arthur clutched his chest in agony, "I told you, my heart is weak!"

Victoria stared at them for a moment before realizing that the newcomers looked somewhat familiar.

For a moment, she even forgot her anger and involuntarily took a couple of steps closer, "Sir Arthur?"

Arthur was struggling to sit up, his elbows still on the ground, but upon hearing the crisp "Sir Arthur," he seemed like he’d been struck by lightning, instantly sobering up.

Arthur jerked his head up and finally noticed the astonished Princess a short distance away, staring intently at him.

Arthur’s face changed color in an instant. First, he slowly stood up, braced his old back to stand upright, then brushed the dust off his coat, smoothed the creases in his trousers, and adjusted his top hat, which had been tilted by Great Dumas. The series of actions were smooth and swift, and before long, he looked just like the portrait hanging in Scotland Yard again.

He took a deep breath and bowed with a standard gentleman’s courtesy, "Your Highness."

Victoria blinked, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity, "How come you are here? And... were you the one who knocked over that corpulent gentleman just now?"