The Shadow of Great Britain

Upon hearing this, Van Prat didn’t show much reaction, but the two junior aides beside him wore slightly peculiar expressions.

Although they didn’t voice their opinions, they certainly regarded Arthur as an oddball.

Because by conventional reasoning, in the European high society of the 1830s, especially for guests from nations like England and France with complex court cultures, even during private visits, it was customary to bring along a few attendants, such as personal valets and private secretaries.

Besides, one would at least prepare a trunk full of evening attire, including tailcoats, brooches, and lined gloves. Additionally, there’d be a box for toiletries, spice jars, emergency medicine, and for certain fastidious noblemen, cookware and utensils for a traveling chef.

However, Sir Arthur Hastings seemed to be merely on a casual stroll after dinner, carrying only a British wool coat, an old leather suitcase, without any personal valet or private secretary. His so-called late-arriving attendants turned out to be less attendants and more like technical experts from the England Electromagnetic Telegraph Company.

If Van Prat hadn’t already been informed that Arthur would arrive solo in Brussels, perhaps he too would mistake Arthur for some Parisian charlatan.

In truth, Arthur’s situation was even more dire than they imagined.

Because his so-called late attendees were not even technical experts, but rather Great Dumas and Eld, both incapacitated by heavy drinking the night before and unable to rise from bed yesterday. They were in Belgium purely for leisure, not any technical oversight.

As such, Arthur was reluctant to have them stay at the Bellevue Hotel.

Although Arthur had a good relationship with the Belgians, no matter how well they got along, it didn’t mean the Belgians would relax their monitoring over a foreign guest like him. Although those two indulging in womanizing wasn’t a major issue, it was still unseemly. Running into any trouble mid-way would be severely embarrassing for him.

Van Prat discreetly drew a breath, and though Arthur’s minimalist traveling approach made his work easier, since the reception task was personally assigned by Leopold I, he preferred Arthur to be more troublesome: "If your attendees arrive tomorrow, could you perhaps inform the Royal Secretariat? His Majesty hopes everything during your stay in Brussels will be flawless."

"Of course," Arthur replied: "I will arrange for them to report to the Secretariat."

Only upon hearing this did Van Prat feel slightly at ease. Gesture indicating "please," he led Arthur towards the carriage: "Please proceed, Your Excellency. The hotel room is prepared, with dinner and breakfast menus personally selected by His Majesty the King. I hope you find them suitable."

Outside the train station, a four-wheeled enclosed carriage quietly stood at the street corner, its hubs polished to shine, the car body dark with lacquered sheen, harnesses gleaming with silver light, flanked by two accompanying cavalrymen, swords at their waists, handguns in their pouches, military caps pulled low, displaying expressionless faces.

Though Arthur had anticipated Leopold might offer him certain exceptional treatment, having everything arranged so meticulously still moved him somewhat.

But feelings aside, thanks aside, in politics, gratitude can’t merely be spoken and forgotten.

And Arthur pondered, what did he have left that Leopold might value?

Flip it around, all he possessed was his influence over the King’s niece, and perhaps the England Electromagnetic Telegraph Company.

Arthur reached for the copper-handled carriage door and boarded as he did so.

Van Prat sat opposite him, pulling back a corner of the curtain and pointed toward the telegraph lines outside the station, speaking: "The equipment at the Brussels Telegraph Station was originally the first batch of test models redirected from London. After seeing the England Electromagnetic Telegraph Company’s demonstration lines in Louvain, His Majesty promptly approved the procurement of an entire comprehensive system."

"I heard last month the Belgian telegraph line reached Mechelen, and the extension to Antwerp’s port should be completed by the end of this year." Arthur spoke softly, his tone a touch at ease, carrying a hint of nonchalance: "Compared to the politicians of Paris and bureaucrats of London, His Majesty Leopold appears to truly grasp the value of modern communication."

Van Prat smiled slightly: "His Majesty has always valued our government’s cooperation with the Imperial Publishing Company, not just in telegraph technology, but also in publishing distribution. Last month we initiated preliminary clean-up against Brussels’ notorious book pirates, many of whom were infringing upon your company’s legitimate publishing rights. If you permit, we hope you might spare some time to assist Brussels police in their investigation."

"This indeed surprises me." Hearing this, Arthur leaned back: "In Paris, I heard Brussels’ printing industry has always been flourishing, you can find any book here...without a doubt, piracy is a peculiar feature of this city. If it weren’t for His Majesty himself, I’d never have imagined you’d deploy police force for a London publishing firm."