Geoffrey and I walked side by side. I already knew the reason: we were equals. Both of us were great dukes—among the four great dukes, no one stood above another.
That was the only true privilege of being one of the four.
Everything else was just more trouble.
I turned my gaze toward Geoffrey and asked,
"Where exactly are we going to talk?"
Geoffrey glanced at me briefly, then looked ahead again.
"The Dock Office. It's quiet and private."
I scanned our surroundings. When I was certain no one was close enough to overhear, I placed my hand on his shoulder and said,
"No—the matter isn't important enough to warrant the Dock Office."
I lowered my hand.
Geoffrey stopped walking for a moment, turned fully toward me, and asked,
"What is it, then?"
I opened my mouth to answer—when the same voice echoed again in my ear.
"Deception."
This time it came with a sharp stab of pain in my head.
For a brief second the world tilted. Before anything worse could happen, I pressed a hand to my temple and rubbed it slowly until the pain dulled.
Geoffrey stared at me.
Then he gave a short laugh.
"Still plagued by headaches and sleep troubles, I see?"
I was still rubbing my temple when his words made my eyes widen.
So the headaches and constant drowsiness weren't my problem—they were this body's problem?
But what about the voice saying "deception"? Was that part of Elias's condition too?
I forced a smile.
"Yeah… it's really quite bothersome."
Geoffrey smiled back.
"I think I have a tonic or herbal infusion that might help. But… you said you wanted to discuss something important."
I looked at him steadily. When he finished speaking, I exhaled and said,
"I wanted to invite you to a wedding. The wedding of Romeo Harrington and a girl named Juliet Ashford."
Geoffrey's eyes widened slightly.
He stared at me in silence for a moment before saying,
"What's gotten into you? Suddenly interested in these things? Don't tell me you're planning to get married yourself and want to scout for a suitable match at the reception?"
I let out a short, quiet laugh and replied with a smile,
"No… I'm still too young for that."
Geoffrey glanced toward the docks for a moment, then said,
"You're getting old… If you keep living like this, alone, you'll weaken and die."
I listened to his words with a faint smile. From the tone of his voice, I could tell the friendship between the original Elias Montagu and Geoffrey Jenkinson ran far deeper than mere old acquaintance. It felt almost like they had grown up together.
I extended my hand toward him.
"Can you come to the wedding or not? If I go alone, I'll lose face."
Geoffrey looked at me for a second, then reached out. We shook hands.
"Fine… I'll come. I'll wait for you in front of Baron Romeo's manor around seven."
I smiled, released his hand, and said,
"Thank you. Then I'll be going."
He gave a small smile, raised his hand in farewell, and headed off in another direction along the docks.
I turned back toward the carriage.
I hadn't taken many steps when I saw Frederick hurrying toward me at a near run.
I watched him approach in surprise.
When he reached me he caught his breath and said,
"My lord… did the Duke of Liverpool tell you as well?"
I looked at him, puzzled.
"No… tell me what, exactly?"
Frederick spoke with strange urgency.
"My lord… according to what I overheard from the dock workers, today the Ming Empire's trade delegation is arriving here by ship!"
I stared at him for a moment. The surprise faded.
"And… what does that have to do with us?"
Frederick answered without hesitation.
"My lord, if the Ming trade delegation arrives, it is very likely the King will host a royal reception!"
I looked at Frederick again. I opened my mouth to reply—then the full weight of it hit me.
It didn't matter whether the King held a reception or not.
As far as I remembered from my previous life, the year 1879 coincided with the Qing Dynasty—roughly the fourth or fifth year of the Guangxu Emperor's reign.
Yet here, in this world, the Ming Dynasty still ruled.
So the timeline wasn't only wrong for Britain.
It was wrong for the entire world.
I seized Frederick's shoulder firmly.
"They didn't say exactly when it arrives?"
Frederick answered, voice trembling slightly.
"N-no, my lord!"
I was about to ask him about current maps and kingdoms when a piercing ship's whistle tore through Royal Victoria Dock.
According to the unwritten rules of hereditary nobility, a duke should only run for matters of true importance. Running without cause would diminish one's dignity and standing.
And right now, that unwritten rule—one I myself had internalized—was pinning one of the four great dukes in place.
So I had no choice but to walk—slow, steady steps—toward the berth where the Ming delegation's ship had docked.
It didn't take long to reach it.
But I was already hating every second of walking.
Now I understood just how useful running could be.
We stood watching as dock workers maneuvered a platform into position opposite one of the mid-deck doors and secured it with ropes.
By my rough estimate, it took about three minutes for the mid-deck hatch to open.
Those who emerged and descended the platform wore the attire of Ming nobility. Some were dressed more simply—clearly merchants.
I remembered my previous life as a YouTuber: I had always studied the history of every country, memorizing dates and details so I could build theories without historical errors and farm comments.
So I had no doubt—the clothing worn by this Ming trade delegation was authentic.
My eyes were fixed on the ship when they caught a carved inscription on part of the wooden hull:
明朝貿易使團
I had always been interested in history, not languages—so I had no idea what it said.
I was still pondering the inscription when William's voice broke through.
"My lord… if you're staring at the writing on the hull, it reads 'Ming Dynasty Trade Delegation'."
I turned to him.
"Where the hell have you been…?"
William pulled his pipe from his pocket.
"I was searching for it inside the carriage…"
I drew a deep breath.
"I swear I'm going to break it myself one day…"
William stepped closer.
"The last time a Ming trade delegation came to Britain was about seven years ago… when your father was still duke."
I smirked, eyes still on the ship.
"Yeah… I know."
William gave a small smile and took a puff from his pipe.
I kept watching the platform.
Then someone emerged wearing noticeably different attire.
Even William's eyes widened in surprise.
I glanced at him.
"That clothing…"
William nodded, stunned.
"Yes… yangban attire, with a gat hat…"
Frederick—who had been standing between us—said quietly,
"But… what is someone from the Joseon Dynasty doing in a Ming delegation?"
I turned to Frederick and thought for a moment.
He was right.
What was a Joseon official doing among a Ming trade delegation?
From a distance I watched Geoffrey Jenkinson speaking with the leader of the Ming delegation.
I exhaled and started walking back toward the carriage.
Frederick and William followed close behind.
Once we were inside and the carriage began moving toward Carlton House Terrace, I leaned back as usual.
William was calmly packing fresh tobacco into his pipe.
Frederick was jotting something in a small notebook.
For once, sleep refused to come—no matter how much I wanted it. That meant I would be forced to stay awake for the entire journey back—over an hour.
I sighed, smirked faintly, and stared out the window.
Still looking outside, I said,
"By the way, Head Butler… tomorrow morning have the carriage prepared. I want to go to a watchmaker and buy a watch for myself."
Frederick stopped writing, looked at me, and answered,
"Yes, my lord. Understood."
I glanced at William—who was still pressing tobacco down with his thumb.
Sometimes I felt the original Elias had surrounded himself with idiots.
But… their skills couldn't be ignored.
I couldn't afford to overlook their talents.