Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Prince's Return—Successfully Winning Over the Irish Republican Party

November 20, 2237, 19:10, Buckingham Palace

In a quiet, deserted corridor, a small door slowly opened. From within emerged two men exuding an unmistakable aura of royalty, yet they seemed to be shielding someone else.

“Brother, there’s no one here. Come out,” murmured Prince Quivell softly, glancing around. To his surprise, a third voice responded, despite there apparently being only two of them. “It’s fine. I’m already wearing the invisibility cloak; even you can’t see me. Why should I be concerned about anyone else?” There was no mistaking the voice—it belonged to Prince Trecy, who was, after all, the royal chief scientist, Cole.

“Brother, are you sure you want to come back and take a look? Isn’t it risky? You could easily be exposed,” Prince Charlie asked, fully aware that in such a crowded, watchful place, Prince Trecy could not remove his cloak for a moment. “Don’t worry. In my own Welsh Party, even if I appear suddenly, it won’t cause a stir. In fact, the two of you showing up is more conspicuous than anything I could do.” Trecy’s voice was as clear as ever, yet not a single figure could be seen in the corridor. “Brother, I’m curious—why is such a grand corridor completely devoid of our people?” Charlie wondered aloud. After being missing for so long, he found it peculiar that there was such a place entirely untouched by their own. “Ah, that’s because this is a private passage for the Welsh Party. Besides, I’ve taken a few precautions—no one will discover this place for now.” Though Trecy was unseen, he was surely grinning at his own cleverness. Hearing this, Quivell and Charlie realized that within Trecy’s domain, even such secrets could exist. It seemed the Welsh Party was truly capable of anything—perhaps even the Satan Crisis could be dealt with effortlessly.

“Brother, I’d like to know—if you were to address the Satan Crisis as the Crown Prince, then...” “Sorry, but even I can’t resolve it so easily. Still, once my team reconstructs the ‘Angel’ mecha, the Satan Crisis will be nothing to fear.” Trecy extended two hands from beneath his cloak, passing a mobile phone each to Quivell and Charlie. “This is how I’ll contact you. If there’s anything you must know, I’ll reach out. Keep them safe—they’ll come in handy.” Feeling the weight of the devices, the two princes understood.

A minute later, deep within Buckingham Palace, a grand door swung open and two figures emerged. At first, they went unnoticed, the others busy with their affairs, assuming the pair belonged to some party. But then someone cried out, “Your Highness!” and in a flash, officials realized who they were. “Prince Quivell! Prince Charlie!” Members of the Quivell Party and the Lionheart Society surged forward, surrounding the two princes. “Your Highnesses, are you all right? What happened? Where have you been?” they asked anxiously, for only a moment earlier they had nearly issued an international search warrant. “It’s nothing—a secret. The two of us have signed a confidentiality agreement,” replied the princes.

While chaos swirled around the princes, Commander Roger and the Earl of Dragon also took notice. “Oh? The Crown Prince and the others have already played their hand? Impressive. That means the Crown Prince must have slipped in as well,” mused Roger, ever attuned to sudden appearances. As he observed, a figure at the Welsh Party’s side caught his eye—someone who should not have been seated among them. “I see. The Crown Prince is here as well,” Roger murmured, loud enough for the Earl of Dragon to hear. “Has the Crown Prince returned? Where is he?” the Earl wondered, knowing the young heir was a golden-haired youth in his twenties, yet there was no one with such hair in sight.

“Hello, Lord Dragon, what are you looking at?” At that moment, someone appeared from the direction of the Welsh Party—it was Trecy himself, disguised as Dr. Tanner. “And you are… an assistant to the Taylor brothers?” “Exactly. I’m the insignificant Tanner. It’s an honor to be remembered by someone of your stature,” replied Tanner—or rather, Trecy—respectfully, playing the part of a humble scientist to perfection. “Dr. Tanner? Why are you here? It takes an hour for someone from the Royal Academy of Sciences to get here, especially with the city’s transit on lockdown,” remarked Roger, immediately seeing through the disguise. But he could not tell whether Trecy had always been Dr. Tanner, or was merely impersonating him now. “Ah, nothing much—just couldn’t resist the excitement. With such a commotion here, how could someone as curious as I am stay idle in the lab?” Tanner’s words left no room for suspicion; he was as ordinary as any researcher, merely joining the crowd and the conversation.

“I never expected Princes Quivell and Charlie to disappear for an entire day. Even I’m curious where they went!” Dr. Tanner chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with Roger, who caught on at once. “By the way, Dr. Tanner, why did you come out from the Welsh Party’s side? I thought you weren’t one of us?” “Well, I’m planning to join! Perhaps you could put in a good word for me, Commander Roger?” Tanner replied offhandedly, surprising even the Earl of Dragon. “But Dr. Tanner, scientists like you rarely join any party. Why now?” “Just for the title, really. The Welsh Party belongs to the Crown Prince—so powerful and resourceful, it’s naturally enticing!” Tanner seemed utterly unconcerned about his affiliations, which intrigued the Earl of Dragon. “Dr. Tanner, wouldn’t it make more sense to join a faction most likely to produce the next King of the United Kingdom?” “Lord Dragon, you’re mistaken. To serve the Crown Prince loyally—that is the true path of a subject,” Tanner replied, and the Earl could not deny it. “But the Crown Prince is as elusive as a dragon—hardly ever seen. How can such a prince...” “Lord Dragon, please spare a thought for us Welsh Party members when you say such things. Never assume His Highness is unworthy of loyalty. Look at our ranks—who is not an elite? With such capable ministers, even a mediocre royal family could be upheld. That was the purpose of constitutional monarchy, and our Crown Prince has always worked selflessly behind the scenes!” Commander Roger seized the opportunity created by Trecy’s sudden appearance to win over the Princess’s Irish Republican Party. It seemed to have swayed the Earl of Dragon.

“So, what about Her Highness the Princess?” The Earl, after all, represented the Irish Republican Party and had to consider his party’s interests. “Rest assured, the Crown Prince will always be good to his sister. If your party is willing, we can cooperate privately, as if we were one party. What do you think?” Roger’s words moved the Earl, who was well aware of the Princess’s situation—and that she could never become the next monarch.

“I’ll consider it,” replied the Earl, still feigning resistance, but...

“Well, recruitment successful!”

—Author’s Note—

Written during the club’s evening event tonight. I wonder what everyone around me thinks of me now.