With Abigail by his side, it became clear to everyone at the banquet that none of the young noblewomen could catch William's eye.
The aristocrats' little matchmaking schemes had utterly failed, leaving Prime Minister Richard momentarily shocked and then deeply relieved.
For people like him, the last thing they wanted was for the nobility to regain even a shred of power.
Watching William now, Richard's gaze took on a more scrutinizing edge.
If William hadn't deliberately walked off the spaceship in his full ducal regalia today, Richard and his allies might have forgotten he was even a noble.
Sensing the potential danger of his influence, Richard, who had once viewed Abigail unfavorably, now found himself reconsidering.
If someone must be the future Duchess of Devonshire, wouldn't it be better for England if she were an American rather than another English aristocrat?
In an instant, Richard and several cabinet members, who had previously ignored Abigail, suddenly began engaging her in conversation, startling her.
Standing nearby, Philip—who had been observing everything—sighed internally.
Richard and the others didn't understand William as well as he did, but Philip had long since figured him out.
You can talk business with William, but expecting him to involve himself in anything else? Forget it.
Noticing Abigail's nervousness and feeling slightly annoyed by Philip's setup, William turned back, took her hand, and patted it reassuringly.
"Don't be nervous, darling. You'll be dealing with Prime Minister Richard and the Chancellor of the Exchequer quite frequently in the future."
What does that mean?
The entire room went silent, even those waiting in line to shake William's hand looking up in curiosity.
Seeing their confusion, William smirked and explained,
"I plan to put Abigail in charge of handling the taxation and financial matters related to the Mars gold shipments.
So, she's actually our dear Chancellor's golden goose.
If she ever feels like she's being bullied, all she has to do is tell Selene and Nissa to pause Mars flights.
With a potential monthly tax revenue loss of at least $1 billion, I think even Prime Minister Richard himself would step aside whenever he sees her, right, Richard?"
"Ha! If that happens, forget just Richard—every single one of us would step aside for Miss Abigail!"
Since the comment was directed at Abigail rather than William himself, it wasn't considered disrespectful.
So, as soon as the Chancellor of the Exchequer spoke, the other cabinet members immediately chimed in.
"That's right! One billion a month means 12 billion a year—that's nearly 10 billion pounds!
God, forget stepping aside! If Miss Abigail ever visits the Treasury, we should all line up to personally welcome her.
And Richard should be the one to open the car door for her, right?"
Richard laughed heartily and nodded.
"Opening a car door for a lady is what any gentleman should do."
Turning to Abigail, who was now half-hiding behind William, he said,
"My office doors are always open for you, Miss Abigail. If you ever need anything, just come directly to me."
The surrounding guests, who had just processed what had been said, looked at Abigail in shock, envy, and jealousy.
With this level of authority, no future English administration would dare underestimate her.
But more importantly, Abigail realized that William had just officially cemented her role.
Not only had she retained her position as the Devonshire estate's chief steward, but her influence had grown significantly.
Thinking of this, Abigail's gaze toward William became even softer, making the surrounding guests feel like they had just been force-fed a mouthful of sugar.
—
Philip, of course, immediately understood William's not-so-subtle message.
You set up a scheme, and now I'm letting you know I'm not happy about it.
Though the banquet remained lively, it was clear that many of the high-ranking nobles were no longer in high spirits.
Their smiles remained, but their enthusiasm had visibly dimmed, as if the wind had been knocked out of their sails.
—
After the banquet, William and Richard left together for a press conference.
Prince Charles quietly walked up behind Philip and asked in a low voice, "Are you alright, Father?"
"No, I am not."
Philip sighed.
"Just over a year ago, I explicitly warned you all that if William ever showed political ambition, it would be the moment our family distanced itself from him.
But now, not only has William remained unchanged, we are the ones who have started having delusions."
"Father, we were never supposed to—"
"Enough, Charles."
Philip raised his hand, cutting his son off.
"Unless I abdicate the throne to the Devonshire family—to William Devonshire—
he will never fight against external capital for the sake of a declining aristocracy."
Charles thought for a long time before asking,
"Then how should we handle our relationship with William going forward?"
Philip turned to him, smiling as he patted his shoulder.
"Relax. This was just a minor test—William won't distance himself from us over something so trivial.
Besides, didn't he bring Wilson along to the press conference?"
"Hmm?"
Charles was momentarily stunned.
After five or six seconds, he let out a deep breath and smiled.
"I almost thought that bastard dragged Wilson along as a hostage."
"You—"
Philip nearly threw his wine glass in frustration.
"William is simply playing a little game of push and pull. Do you really not see that?"
Charles remained silent for a moment.
"Alright, if there's nothing else, I'll go outside and see if anything needs my attention. You should rest."
Seeing that his previous comment had clearly annoyed his father, Charles shrugged and nodded.
"Understood, Father."
Once Charles left, Philip sank onto the sofa, deep in thought.
I completely misunderstood Charles.
His words had been a veiled warning.
He had been indirectly telling Philip that if they continued to toy with power struggles and actually acted on such thoughts,
the result might not just be a failed plan—it might be a series of accidents.
Thinking about the hidden dangers lurking in the shadows, Philip broke into a cold sweat.
His mind growing clearer, he suddenly felt as if he had been bewitched.
Why else would I start entertaining thoughts I've never had before?
Standing up, he walked over to his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.
"Have Charles Cavendish taken into custody."
(End of Chapter)
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