After the banquet that had drawn the attention of London's entire political scene, Princess Victoria's prestige had reached unprecedented heights.
No longer did people see her as a naïve girl sheltered beneath her mother's protective wing. To the eyes of shrewd politicians, she had already become a rising star—someone with independent thought and surprising wisdom.
And since Arthur was the mind behind it all, his own life had begun to change as well—quietly, but unmistakably.
"Arthur, here are today's newspapers."
Fat Boss Henry had by now become Arthur's loyal follower. Every morning he delivered the latest newspapers and workshop reports punctually and respectfully. His former skepticism had transformed into complete admiration—almost reverence.
Under Arthur's guidance, a new building had been established: Future Industries, expanding at a breathtaking pace.
The ten prototype sewing machines had caused a sensation after a public demonstration at London's Guild of Tailors. Orders poured in relentlessly; within fifteen days, pre-orders were booked for an entire year. Each sewing machine yielded several pounds of pure profit, and Arthur had become rich overnight—so much so that even Fat Boss felt a sting of envy.
His cleansing soap, unmatched in its cleaning power, had also conquered the mid-to-low-end market of London, securing a steady stream of income every single day.
Money, career, social standing—things once out of reach—were now rolling toward him like a growing avalanche.
Arthur sat in his newly rented office—bright, spacious, refined—sipping excellent tea as he flipped through the morning paper. The front page displayed a delicate engraving of Princess Victoria alongside a bold headline:
"Hope for the Future: A Princess of Wisdom and Benevolence."
A faint smile naturally curved Arthur's lips.
His first move had been perfectly executed.
At that moment, someone knocked hurriedly on the door.
"Come in."
Fat Boss Henry entered, wearing a strange expression—a mixture of excitement and anxiety. And behind him stood someone Arthur did not expect at all: Baroness Frances.
The princess's personal lady-in-waiting was dressed like a common woman, a simple gown and a veil covering her face. She looked cautious, almost tense.
"Arthur." Baroness Frances curtsied, respectful yet filled with curiosity. She studied the young man before her with discreet glances.
He was even younger and more handsome than she had imagined, dressed in a dark, elegant coat, radiating calm confidence. With the rise of Future Industries shaking the East End, Arthur now appeared refined, composed, and undeniably mysterious.
"Baroness Frances, what brings you here?" Arthur asked, rising with a pleasant smile. He knew well that without Victoria's instruction, this cautious lady-in-waiting would never have come on her own.
"It concerns a decree from His Majesty the King." Her voice was soft, but her words struck the room like thunder.
"What?" Even Arthur, usually unshakable, was momentarily startled.
The baroness reached into her bag and produced a letter sealed with royal wax. She presented it with solemnity.
"Mr. Lionheart, His Majesty the King wishes to meet you."
Arthur accepted the letter and scanned it quickly.
The message was brief:
King William IV, in a private and unofficial capacity, invited "Mr. Arthur Lionheart, inventor of the new sewing machine" to Buckingham Palace the afternoon after tomorrow for tea.
The signature at the bottom belonged to the King's private secretary.
Arthur felt his heartbeat quicken.
William IV.
The supreme sovereign of the British Empire.
He truly wanted to meet him in person.
This was far beyond anything Arthur had anticipated. He had expected to remain in the shadows for much longer.
"What happened?" he asked the baroness.
Baroness Frances let out a thin, ironic smile. "Since that banquet, His Majesty has begun to look at Her Royal Highness with new eyes. In private, he has asked her several times where her astonishing ideas came from."
"Although the princess has always answered using poetic excuses—'inspiration from the Muse'—His Majesty is far too astute to believe it."
"Moreover, your sewing machine has caused an enormous stir throughout London. Many nobles are talking about it. His Majesty has taken great interest in a machine that can increase efficiency so dramatically. When he connects the two matters… it is only natural for him to suspect that Her Highness's 'Muse' might actually be you—the young genius inventor."
Arthur understood immediately.
He had shone too brightly.
An unknown commoner who, in only a few weeks, had triggered two major events—one political, one industrial—was bound to attract the King's attention.
This was a monumental test.
Meeting the King was nothing like speaking with a princess confined to her household. He was about to face an astute monarch and ministers as cunning as foxes.
One wrong sentence could bring disaster.
But at the same time, it was an opportunity like no other.
If he could pass this trial and earn the King's approval, his social standing would transform instantly. He would no longer be seen merely as "a handsome boy favored by the princess," but as a true new noble of the Empire, acknowledged by the very heart of power.
Risk and opportunity—perfectly intertwined.
"I understand," Arthur said, drawing a deep breath as his composure returned. "Please inform Her Royal Highness, and convey to His Majesty, that I will be present at the appointed time."
"Excellent!" Baroness Frances visibly relaxed. "Her Royal Highness hopes so as well. She asked me to tell you not to be nervous: behave as you do when speaking with her, and simply show your true talent. She said… she said she places great trust in you."
At those words—she trusts you—a warmth spread through Arthur's chest.
In such an unfamiliar era, gaining such pure trust was no small thing.
After the baroness departed, Fat Boss Henry—who had stood by listening—was trembling with excitement, his face completely flushed.
"Heavens… heavens! Arthur! His Majesty the King! He wants to see you!" he stammered wildly. "You… you're about to become a truly important man! Our… our workshop is going to soar!"
Arthur ignored his enthusiasm. He sat at his desk and sank into deep thought.
He knew the meeting would not be a simple afternoon tea.
It would be a formal examination.
What would they ask?
About the sewing machine? His origins?
Or deeper questions about industry and economics?
He needed to be fully prepared.
He pulled out a blank sheet of paper and began organizing his thoughts, constructing the perfect set of "answers" for the royal summons that would determine his fate.
He knew he was about to step into the true center of the Empire's power.
And that an even more dangerous, high-stakes game was about to begin.