The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1464: Chapter 232: Bastard Son Is Not a French Privilege (Part 3)

The deputy dean’s motion of pouring wine into the goblet suddenly slowed down, the deep red liquid swirling into a dark crimson vortex along the rim: ”Don’t you think Moscow’s vodka is better at keeping secrets than London’s gin?”

”But today you’ve chosen Georgian wine.” Arthur suddenly nudged the hidden compartment under the table leg with the tip of his boot, the metallic clang unusually clear in the silent room: ”The vines of Tbilisi have grown up listening to tales of Persian caravans and Ottoman cavalry.”

”Alright, if you insist on hearing it.” The deputy dean warned in advance: ”You must first promise not to tell Yakovlev what I’m about to say; he’s always been very secretive about this matter because, legally speaking, he remains unmarried and has never had a son.”

”Ah...” Arthur suddenly realized: ”I think I understand now. In British law, something like this often happens as well. In Britain, such things used to only happen in noble families, but now even the middle classes are beginning to mimic it.”

”It seems Russia isn’t as advanced as Britain; we’re more traditional here,” the deputy dean laughed: ”Just like you said, similar things here still only occur in noble families. However, this doesn’t stop Yakovlev from being an oddball. Because he neither married that German woman to pass on the family estate nor kept any lovers outside, everyone wonders what he’s really aiming for.”

The deputy dean filled Arthur’s wine glass: ”Imagine, an old man with just one son, yet he’s always unwilling to give him and his mother a rightful status, unwilling to let him carry the Yakovlev name. If that son were named Yakovlev instead of Herzen, many things wouldn’t have to be so complicated. You’re not a Moscovite, so you wouldn’t know how long the history of the Yakovlev family in Moscow is. Their family’s history is even longer than the Romanov Dynasty’s; back when Russia was still the Moscow Grand Duchy, they were already a grand noble family owning luxurious estates.”

Arthur also couldn’t comprehend Herzen’s father’s actions: ”If it’s as you say, then he really made a foolish move. If Herzen used the Yakovlev surname, he wouldn’t have needed to rely on Duke You Subofu to get into Moscow University. I recall that heirs of hereditary nobility like this would find it quite easy to enter Moscow University, right?”

”You already knew about this, did you?” the deputy dean blinked: ”Let me put it this way, without the surname, getting into Moscow University wasn’t just about finding Duke You Subofu. You know that young man’s university identity was also fake, right? When he attended university, he used the surname ’Ivanov,’ and I helped sign those documents.”

Arthur had thought that the things he did in Druiysk were quite formidable, but he never expected that producing fake documents was so common in Russia.

That explains it...

No wonder Shubinsky didn’t seem afraid at all when he provided him with fake travel documents and identity information back then.

The deputy dean continued to ramble: ”If you ask me, Yakovlev should have listened to a few old friends back then. I remember sometime around a few years ago, a few old comrades came to visit him, including Peter Kirillovich Essen, Governor of Orenburg Province, and General Aleksey Nikolaevich Bahmetev, Governor of Bessarabia.

At the time, Essen kindly advised him: ’Leave this matter to me. I’ll arrange for the boy to enlist with the Ural Cossacks and train him to become an officer — this is primary, and then he can rise step by step like all of us.’

But Yakovlev was indifferent, saying he didn’t favor any military positions. He hoped his son could become a diplomat in a place with a mild climate, where he could also spend his later years peacefully.

General Bahmetev, normally silent, couldn’t help but stand up with his cane when he heard this, even though he only had one leg left.

’I think Peter Kirillovich’s advice is worth your serious consideration. If you’re unwilling to send him to Orenburg, then let him join the army here. We’re old friends, and I won’t hesitate to be blunt: pursuing a civil servant role and attending university is neither beneficial to your young master nor society. Frankly, his situation is awkward, and only a military position can open the door of career advancement for him, setting him on a proper path. All dangerous thoughts will evaporate before he is promoted to captain. Military discipline is like a university; after that, everything will depend on his efforts. You say he’s talented; do only fools become officers? You, I, and all of us have come this way, haven’t we? You have only one point to object to, which is that to obtain an officer’s rank, he needs more time. But on this matter, we can help you.’”

At this point, the deputy dean couldn’t help but click his tongue and sigh: ”Looking back now, General Bahmetev’s words were very insightful. Sending that young man to Moscow University benefited him not at all, and now he’s also picked up some bad habits.”

Suddenly, a rapid footfall was heard in the corridor. A clerk rushed in, flinging the door open: ”Someone from the Constitutional Guard Headquarters is here! They say they need to review the files archived yesterday...”

The heavy bootsteps of soldiers swallowed his words.

Four gray-coated constitutional soldiers filed in, and the leading lieutenant’s pupils suddenly contracted upon glancing at Arthur.

Arthur noticed a callus on his right index finger from years of pulling a trigger — a mark of the Tsar’s Imperial Guard.

”By order of General Volkov.” The lieutenant’s saber sheath tapped the marble floor: ”Retrieve all judicial records of the Nikolai Ogarev case.”

The deputy dean’s slender fingers pressed on the file: ”According to the 1832 Judicial Reform Bill...”

”The additional clause of the eighth amendment!” The lieutenant unsheathed his saber and laid it on the table, the bronze eagle emblem on the hilt making the ink bottle shake slightly: ”For cases involving royal security, the Constitutional Guard Headquarters has the right to requisition documents from any department. Do I need to recite it, Your Excellency? Every spring thaw, the bridges on the Neva River get washed away, so don’t cause yourself unnecessary trouble.”