Victoria felt her heart pounding uncontrollably from the moment Arthur stepped into the reception hall.
She sat on the soft couch, her back straight as a rod, her hands elegantly intertwined in her lap, her face wearing the serene and dignified expression befitting a princess. Yet only she knew the tension and anticipation hidden beneath that perfect composure.
She was nervous because this was Arthur's first direct meeting with the highest authority of the Empire. She feared he might falter under the pressure, feared her uncle the King and the shrewd Lord Melbourne would ask him questions that were too harsh. She felt like a schoolgirl awaiting exam results, her palms damp with nervous sweat.
And she was full of expectations, because she believed wholeheartedly in Arthur's abilities. She longed to see the man she trusted and admired overcome the two most powerful men in the Empire with his unmatched wisdom and foresight, just as he had demonstrated countless times in his letters. She hoped they would finally recognize his extraordinary brilliance.
When Arthur entered the room calmly and greeted everyone with impeccable manners, Victoria's suspended heart settled quietly.
He did not disappoint her.
He was exactly as she remembered him—composed, charming, and confident, as though no situation in the world could shake him.
And once the conversation began, Victoria was completely absorbed.
When Arthur spoke of new terms such as "standardized production," even though she couldn't fully grasp the complex industrial logic behind them, she could judge the weight of his words by the increasingly astonished expressions on the faces of her uncle the King and Lord Melbourne. She saw a wild delight, a pure, intellectually conquered admiration flash in the Prime Minister's eyes—like the joy of "discovering a treasure."
A powerful sense of pride and accomplishment surged through Victoria.
Look! This is the man I chose! This is my "muse"!
Now you finally know where my "brilliant ideas" came from, don't you?
And when Arthur mentioned the "patent protection law," ending with the powerful declaration, "The sun never sets," Victoria felt her blood boil.
"The sun never sets!"
The moment she heard that phrase for the first time, it was carved into her heart; something deep within her soul had awakened, becoming the dream she most desired to achieve. And now, Arthur—before the King and the Prime Minister—perfectly connected that dream with national innovation and legal refinement.
He had not only shown her a dream, but also an incredibly clear path to fulfill it.
In that moment, her gaze toward Arthur was no longer merely admiration and trust. Deep within her beautiful blue eyes, a more fervent and profound emotion was quietly growing. It was a complex feeling, mixed with reverence, adoration, and… the unique affection of a young girl.
She felt as though Arthur before her was surrounded by a radiant halo—so dazzling she could barely look at him directly.
The silence that followed was for Victoria both joy and torment. She enjoyed seeing the King and Prime Minister utterly astonished, yet she was anxious to hear their final judgment of Arthur.
Finally, when the King exclaimed, "Boy, you truly amaze me," and the Prime Minister added, "The British Empire needs more geniuses like you," Victoria felt happier than if they had praised her instead. She clutched her skirt tightly, barely able to keep a broad smile from bursting onto her lips.
She knew Arthur would succeed.
He had completely won them over.
After this "storm of ideas," the atmosphere grew even more harmonious and lively. The King personally poured Arthur another cup of tea, with the warm manner of someone serving a beloved nephew.
They discussed many other topics regarding industry and commerce. Every point Arthur raised drew repeated nods from the King and the Prime Minister.
As evening approached, the afternoon tea—which had lasted nearly two hours—finally came to an end.
King William IV rose and paced the room, as though contemplating a major decision. At last, he stopped before Arthur and spoke in a solemn tone:
"Dear Arthur, talk is cheap. Since you have proposed the concept of 'standardized production,' then I—and the entire British Empire—must witness its power firsthand."
He paused; his gaze sharpened.
"In the name of the King, I am issuing a Royal Order to your Future Industries."
"A Royal Order?" Arthur and Victoria were both stunned.
"Yes." The King raised a finger. "I need you to supply my War Department with one thousand of your sewing machines within four months."
One thousand.
The number left everyone breathless.
Victoria's small mouth fell open again in astonishment; she could hardly believe her ears. A thousand! At the current market price of £20 per sewing machine, the total value of the order was a staggering £20,000!
Twenty thousand pounds!
In the 19th century, it was an enormous fortune—enough to make even a count jealous.
But more importantly, this was not merely a business deal.
What did a "Royal Order" signify?
It meant that from that moment on, Arthur's company would bear the title of "Royal Supplier"—a supreme honor, a golden emblem! With that status, Future Industries would operate unimpeded throughout England and even all of Europe. Banks would rush to offer loans, nobles would compete to collaborate with him, and his social status would skyrocket.
"Of course, this is not coercion," the King continued. "This is both an order and a test. If you complete it on time, with quality and quantity, then you and your ideas will receive recognition throughout the Empire. But if you fail…"
The King did not finish the sentence, but everyone understood. If he failed, everything he had said today would be dismissed as empty boasting.
Even Arthur's heart skipped violently for an instant.
Four months. One thousand units.
For his still-small company, with only a few dozen workers, it was almost an impossible task.
Yet… his mind swiftly ran through a series of modern production and management methods: "assembly line," "piece-rate wages," "three-shift system."
He lifted his head, met the King's challenging gaze, and smiled.
He bowed slightly and replied in a clear, resonant voice:
"Your Majesty, not only can I complete it—I can guarantee that the quality of this batch of military sewing machines will surpass anything on the market, and the total cost will remain at market rate."
Everyone was stunned.
The King stared at the young man before him—so confident, even a little arrogant—and after a long moment of silence burst into booming laughter.
"Ahahaha! Good! Very good! Young men should have such spirit!"
He stepped forward and gave Arthur a firm slap on the shoulder. "I await your good news!"
It was late when they finally left Buckingham Palace.
Seated in the carriage on the way back, Arthur could still feel his heart racing with excitement.
He knew that that day, the gears of his life had taken a tremendous leap forward.
What he did not know was that, after his departure, in the reception hall of Buckingham Palace, Princess Victoria watched his carriage disappear through the window, a lingering blush on her beautiful cheeks.
"Uncle," she said softly to the King, "do you believe in my 'muse' now?"
The King looked at his radiant niece and smiled meaningfully.
"No, my dear Victoria. What I see is not a muse."
"What I see—and as his surname suggests—is a lion who will change all of England."