Dressed in his formal attire, William released a wave of psychic energy over himself, sweeping away any dust on his clothes and shoes, making them appear even sharper.
Just as he finished, the ship's automated landing alert from Sunday echoed through the cabin.
Grasping the wide-brimmed hat still floating in front of him, William glanced at the Devonshire family crest embroidered on it. Lowering his head slightly, he placed the hat on and walked toward the spaceship's hatch, waiting for it to stabilize.
For an occasion like this, Selene and Nissa instinctively stood behind him after leaving the cockpit, making no move to step forward.
They knew full well that even Lena herself wouldn't walk out alongside William at this moment.
Beep, beep, beep.
A few alert sounds rang out as the hatch automatically opened. William turned to smile and nod at Selene and Nissa before stepping forward alone.
From the moment the spaceship appeared in view, the entire population of England had been eagerly watching their screens, waiting for William to emerge.
Those privileged enough to be at the London Aerospace Center were even more excited, their eyes fixed intently on the opening hatch.
When they finally saw William step out—dressed in a bright red formal noble coat, yet wearing a wide-brimmed hat instead of a traditional ceremonial cap—the spectators were momentarily stunned.
Then, nearly every noble and aristocrat present burst into thunderous applause, many even cupping their hands into makeshift megaphones and shouting,
"Long live Devonshire!"
As for those who weren't nobles, while some might have thought it was inappropriate for William to wear aristocratic attire instead of a spacesuit on such an occasion, none dared to voice their objections.
Not only was the audience too large for any dissent, but anyone who tried to disrupt the event would instantly become despised by the public.
Besides, William was a duke. At most, critics could nitpick about the choice of attire being inappropriate for the setting—but nothing more.
With no real leverage to complain, they chose to remain silent, offering only half-hearted applause at worst.
More importantly, dozens of news cameras and over a hundred journalists were present. Anyone who caused a scene would find themselves plastered across every major news outlet by morning.
As the hatch fully opened, all cameras locked onto William as he descended the ramp step by step.
The world watched as he emerged, visibly leaner than before, yet his tailored coat accentuated his broad shoulders and V-shaped torso.
Paired with his wide-brimmed hat and the gleaming golden stag crest of the Devonshire family, his presence was both striking and regal—so much so that words failed to describe the sheer charisma he exuded.
Women across the world swooned, and the trend of fitted formal wear instantly went viral.
"William!"
Before he even reached the welcoming party, Lena—her eyes already brimming with tears—waved her hand excitedly, calling out to her son.
Quickening his pace, William stopped about a meter away from Lena, straightened his posture, and saluted her.
Then, he removed his hat and embraced her.
"Sorry, Mother, for making you worry."
Lena held onto him tightly for a long moment before finally releasing him, her hands gripping his arms as she carefully examined his thinner frame.
The tears in her eyes spilled over as she choked out, "It doesn't matter, my child. As long as you've returned safely, that's all that matters."
As William comforted her by patting her back, he caught sight of Abigail standing behind her.
The young woman's eyes were also filled with tears. When she noticed William looking at her, she quickly covered her mouth with her gloved hand,
as if afraid that her sobs would be heard—or worse, that William would see her crying.
What she didn't realize was that the deep, unspoken emotions in her gaze left William momentarily stunned.
His own expression softened, and he smirked slightly, flashing her a warm smile.
"You're impossible," Abigail muttered, rolling her teary eyes at him before quickly looking down, afraid she might lose control and throw herself into his arms.
Her reaction didn't go unnoticed.
Many in the crowd, envious of Abigail's position, chuckled knowingly.
Hearing the laughter, Lena—who was still holding onto William—immediately understood what was going on.
Of course, it had to be her son flirting with Abigail behind her back.
Mildly exasperated, she released him and pinched his cheeks hard, twisting them before letting go.
Only after she had adjusted his coat and taken his hat to place it back on his head did she calm down.
However, as soon as she saw the Devonshire crest on the hat, her eyes welled up with tears once again.
Yet, knowing this was not the time for prolonged sentimentality, she patted William's shoulder and signaled with her eyes that he should proceed.
After planting a quick kiss on Lena's cheek, William stepped forward and was immediately greeted by Wilson, dressed in a noble officer's uniform.
Smirking, William teased, "Shouldn't you be saluting me, Lieutenant?"
To his surprise, Wilson immediately snapped to attention and saluted without hesitation.
Left with no choice but to return the salute properly, William then shook Wilson's hand.
"Remind me to deal with you later," he said with a chuckle before turning his attention to England's Prime Minister, Richard.
—
Without giving Richard a chance to speak first, William glanced at his mother standing behind him and preemptively said, "Thank you."
"Ha! No need to thank me, William. Lady Lena is your mother—letting her be the first to welcome you was the natural choice."
William nodded in appreciation.
While it was true that Lena should have been the first to greet him, it ultimately depended on Richard's willingness.
If he had objected, even Wilson wouldn't have been allowed to stand in front—let alone anyone else.
"As a token of my gratitude, perhaps we can discuss the matter of the gold on the spaceship first."
"That would be ideal!"
Hearing this, Richard's heart soared with joy. His efforts in setting aside his pride to accommodate William had not been in vain.
"If possible, William, would you consider paying the taxes in pounds instead of gold? You know, while gold is valuable, it's still just a commodity. We're concerned that..."
"Alright, Richard."
Noting that everyone around them was eavesdropping, William interrupted him with a smirk.
"Let's go with your plan—40% of 50 tons is 20 tons. At today's gold price, that's roughly 400 million USD.
I'll have the Bank of England transfer the equivalent amount in cash to the tax authority's account. Just make sure I receive the proper receipts."
"Thank you, thank you!"
Richard ignored the murmurs of shock from the surrounding crowd and eagerly shook William's hand.
He knew that once the Mars gold shipment arrived, its value would likely drop below 400 million in the short term,
which was precisely why he wanted cash instead of physical gold.
Rather than risk market fluctuations, it was better to liquidate immediately.
No worries about falling prices, no transaction fees—just a clean deal.
And for William, this was precisely the outcome he had hoped for.
(End of Chapter)
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