The Shadow of Great Britain

Arthur refused to help, the news media gathered more and more, and after taking the medicine, there was no sign of improvement in Victoria’s condition...

Finally, Conroy couldn’t bear it any longer.

He had dispatched someone to London early this morning to summon Dr. Clark, but starting from noon, Victoria’s fever was out of control, and she even began to speak nonsense.

At this time, Conroy no longer cared about waiting for Dr. Clark’s arrival, and hastily summoned a few trusted aides, inquiring if there were any trustworthy doctors in Ramsgate, especially those who could keep a strict mouth.

It so happened that Flora mentioned she had a doctor friend employed at Westminster Hospital who was vacationing in Ramsgate, thus, this friend named John Snow immediately became Conroy’s only lifeline.

When Snow, who had been sunbathing on the beach, was summoned to Albion Villa, the sky had darkened, yet a few curious onlookers still lingered outside Albion Villa.

After the servant led him into the living room, he wasn’t immediately taken to see the patient, but rather was asked to wait.

Snow took off his hat, habitually shaking the fine sand off his cuffs.

Having walked from the beach, there was still a salty chill at the soles of his feet.

The living room of Albion Villa was darker than he imagined, heavy curtains almost shut out the dusk’s light, and the air mixed with the scent of charred wood and rose essence; the stifling air felt suffocating.

The Duchess of Kent sat at one end of the long sofa, she looked up at him, maintaining a barely polite tone: ”Mr. Snow, you’ve had a hard journey.”

Snow gave a brief bow, glanced around at the environment, still digesting what this situation was all about.

However, before he could figure it out, the side door was pushed open, and Lady Leisen hurried in with evident anxiety in her eyes: ”Doctor, I must clarify to you...”

”Be quiet!” The Duchess’s command was sharp and thin, like a fine needle suddenly piercing the air: ”This is just Victoria’s transient mood and your fuss.”

Lady Leisen paused, evidently not anticipating the Duchess’s loss of composure: ”But, Your Highness, the Princess’s condition has already...”

”It’s already been exaggerated by your fuss, scaring everyone in the house!” Victorrie abruptly interrupted Lady Leisen: ”She’s merely in a bad mood, no need for you to embellish here.”

Snow was also startled by the tense atmosphere on site, his gaze darted between the two, seeming to ponder whether he should speak at this moment.

Ultimately, he remembered the nobleman who had sent him into the London University Medical College, recalling what Sir Arthur Hastings had told him before the journey.

”Your Highness.” Snow spoke calmly: ”Regardless of the severity, I need to personally examine the patient. The judgment in medicine is best established on concrete observation.”

The Duchess of Kent pursed her lips, her gaze shifting to the window as if to treat this unfamiliar doctor as nonexistent.

Moments later, she waved her hand as if making an unwilling decision: ”Fine, suit yourself.”

Upon hearing this, Lady Leisen breathed a quiet sigh of relief and quickly turned to lead Snow upstairs.

The corridor was filled with an unpleasant mixture of medicine residue and stuffy heat, candlelight casting trembling shadows on the walls.

The door of the bedroom opened, a wave of heat almost washed over them.

Victoria curled up on the bed, her face pale, lips showing an unusual flush, a damp towel covered her forehead, her breath rapid yet shallow.

Her eyes were half open, seemingly attempting to discern the newcomer.

”Lei...Leisen, is that you?”

Lady Leisen approached the bedside, bending down softly: ”It’s me, Your Highness. And Dr. Snow, he’s a friend of Flora, specifically here to see you.”

Victoria’s gaze slowly shifted to Snow, her eyes revealing disoriented and weary feelings, like looking through a thin mist.

She moved her lips, producing a faint sound: ”Fl...Flora’s friend?”

Her voice was almost swallowed by her breathing, yet carried an instinctive resistance and vigilance.

Lady Leisen gently pressed her hand, quietly comforting: ”Your Highness, he’s just here to see you.”

Yet Snow didn’t hasten to touch her, rather he slightly leaned down, coming close to a breath’s distance, whispering in her ear with a volume only Victoria could hear: ”Sir Arthur Hastings sent me.”

Victoria’s hand under the covers trembled imperceptibly: ”He knows I’m ill?”

”Not exactly, but he has a similar suspicion.” Snow replied steadily: ”So he insisted I personally see your condition to be reassured.”

Upon hearing this, Victoria calmly closed her eyes, then slowly extended her cold, moist hand onto the covers, permitting Snow’s examination.

Snow placed the medical kit on the small tea table at the bed’s end, sat in the chair next to the bed, then reached out to remove the damp towel from Victoria’s forehead, gently pressing his hand against her forehead and neck.

Almost instantly, Snow frowned: ”The fever is severe...”

”Your Highness.” He lowered his voice, trying to make his tone soothing: ”Please try to answer a few questions, does your head hurt badly?”

Victoria replied weakly: ”Like...like it’s being clenched.”

”Does your throat hurt? Does your chest feel tight?”

”Not tight.”

”Does your stomach hurt?”

”Lower right...faintly.”

Lady Leisen stood on the opposite side of the bed, hearing Snow’s questions, she couldn’t help but quietly add: ”The Princess has been having high fever since three days ago, almost sleeping throughout the day, even when awake she quickly falls back to sleep. And last night, she began showing symptoms of delirium.”