Inviting a distinguished guest from another nation was governed by strict protocol.
Even Joseon, despite its relatively limited foreign interactions, was no exception.
Since ancient times, whenever envoys from Ming or Qing arrived, a Reception Directorate would be established, ensuring that not the slightest detail in hosting was neglected.
After all, there was a prevailing belief that the way one treated a guest reflected the dignity of the host. Negligence in such matters was simply unthinkable.
However, the Ministry of Rites—whose experience extended only to Qing envoys or, at most, delegations from the Shogunate—found itself utterly bewildered by the king's sudden command.
"Your Majesty… do you mean to summon His Highness Gillian to Hanseong?"
"That is correct."
"…His Highness Gillian is of Joseon blood, yet he is also the Prince Consort and royal representative of Britain. The issue is that we have never received someone of such status before. There are no established protocols for how he should be treated."
"Then create them for this occasion."
"…Your Majesty, you are well aware—establishing new rites requires extensive deliberation. Realistically, we do not have the time."
At Minister of Rites Park Won-young's words, the other officials nodded vigorously in agreement.
In truth, how to receive Gillian was precisely the kind of issue that could ignite another full-blown ritual controversy.
Ask a hundred officials what level of courtesy he deserved, and you would receive a hundred different answers.
And with no consensus, how could they possibly summon him?
If they committed even the slightest impropriety, who would bear the consequences?
"Minister, why not think of it simply? Assume a prince of Qing or Ming has arrived and treat him accordingly."
"A princely rank, you say…"
"Your Majesty, there is no precedent of such a figure visiting Joseon."
"Then establish one based on that assumption."
Depending on the era, Joseon's status relative to the Middle Kingdom fluctuated—but it never exceeded that of a princely rank.
Thus, to treat Gillian as equal to a Qing prince was, in effect, to place him on the same level as the King of Joseon himself.
No one dared object outright.
But unlike the king, the officials responsible for implementation were already deep in thought.
The moment they left the royal audience hall, they gathered in their offices.
Park Won-young took the lead, joined by vice ministers, assistant ministers, and even lower-ranking officials who had rushed in upon hearing the news.
"His Majesty wishes to meet Gillian in person and suggests receiving him at the level of a Qing prince. Let us begin with that."
"To treat him as a prince… does that not place the British Queen on equal footing with the Son of Heaven?"
"There is precedent. I have heard that after Britain's victory over Qing, they demanded recognition of their monarch as equal to the Emperor."
"In that case, we may simply say we are acknowledging what Qing has already accepted."
It might seem trivial—but in matters of ritual, having precedent made all the difference.
Without it, powerful factions like the Pungyang Jo or Andong Kim clans would seize the opportunity to accuse them of disgracing the nation.
"Fortunately, Qing has given us a justification. The greater issue is time. We must establish a Reception Directorate immediately and prepare every stage from Hamgyeong Province to Hanseong without flaw. Is that even feasible?"
"Minister, the time is far too short. A princely reception would surpass anything we have ever prepared. It is simply impossible."
Even ordinary envoys received treatment scaled to their rank.
Envoys from Tsushima might never even see the king.
But when a Ming minister of high rank arrived, elaborate banquets would be held daily from Uiju onward, with senior officials personally escorting them.
In some cases, even carefully selected entertainers were provided.
In other words, proper preparation required not only logistics—but detailed knowledge of the guest's preferences.
And yet—
They knew almost nothing about Gillian.
"If only Kim Jwa-geun were here…"
"Minister… if I may."
A junior official, Kim Won-sik, spoke cautiously.
"Do you have a suggestion?"
"Not a solution—but perhaps something we should consider first."
"What is it?"
"…Will he even come?"
Silence fell over the room.
Everyone realized it at once.
They had all assumed he would come simply because he was of Joseon blood.
But—
What if he didn't?
"…If he refuses?"
"Then perhaps we should first prepare for that scenario."
Before establishing a Reception Directorate, they needed to determine whether doing so was even appropriate.
Once again, it seemed another night of overtime awaited.
With a collective sigh, the officials began drafting contingency plans.
The Ministry of Rites truly lived up to its reputation.
All they could do now was pray—
That Gillian would give them a clear answer.
* * *
Diplomacy and politics were not as simple as they appeared.
Even the smallest gestures carried meaning—especially in an age where aristocratic pride and honor still held immense weight.
If national dignity was at stake, even rational men could lose their senses.
In the 19th century, damaging a nation's prestige was not a trivial offense—it was a grave crime.
And so, as a royal entangled in international affairs, I had no choice but to weigh every word and action carefully.
Maintaining the prestige of the British Empire was my duty.
Even those "teabagging" victory photos in Vladivostok served that purpose.
The navy, drunk on victory, was already basking in national pride.
It was in the midst of this atmosphere that Lee Beom-gyu approached me with an urgent message from Joseon.
"…I must have misheard. What did you say?"
"His Majesty… wishes to meet Your Highness."
So—the one wishing to meet me was the King of Joseon.
And the one being summoned was me.
"…Why?"
"You have visited Qing, and even met the Shogun and Emperor of Japan. Yet you have never set foot in Joseon—"
"That's not true. I spent the longest time there as a child."
"I meant… since becoming Your Highness…"
I could see him hesitating, unsure of my reaction.
"There has simply been no reason to visit. And there still isn't."
"…I see."
"So why does he wish to meet me?"
"Who in Joseon would not be curious about Your Highness? His Majesty is no exception."
So that was it.
Curiosity.
He wanted me to come, show my face, and leave.
I wasn't particularly inclined.
"So—you are asking me to travel to Hanseong just to pay my respects?"
"N-No! That is not the intention! His Majesty merely wishes to meet you before you return to Europe—"
"…I would hope so."
Had this been framed as a royal summons, the atmosphere would have turned icy.
I briefly considered the identity of Joseon's current king.
Still King Heonjong, it seemed—though he should have already died by now.
History was clearly diverging.
Still—
Now was not the right time.
The Crimean War was ongoing. Visiting Joseon for leisurely receptions would invite criticism.
Even if unlikely, such things could linger—etched into history as a blemish.
And more importantly—
As the Prince Consort of Britain, I could not go simply because a king called for me.
That was not how this worked.
If anything, the proper procedure was the opposite.
They should prepare extensively and humbly request my presence.
And yet—
They dared summon me?
Absolutely not.
"I regret to say that I cannot. The war is ongoing, and I must return to Europe. I do not have the time to travel to Hanseong."
Lee Beom-gyu's face paled.
"Even a day or two—"
"If this were the West Sea, perhaps via Jemulpo. But this is the East Sea. Do you expect me to cross mountains from Gangwon Province?"
"…My apologies."
Still—
I was not entirely without sentiment.
"I cannot refuse entirely, given His Majesty's wishes. Let me see… I can spare one day. I will be resupplying in Dongnae. If His Majesty is willing, we may meet there."
My route would not change.
If he wished to see me—
He could come.
Lee Beom-gyu could only bow and withdraw.
And honestly—
I was being generous.
If it were the Qing Emperor, I would have told him to send a ship and come to London instead.
Really, my kindness toward my homeland was my only flaw.
At this rate, it might become a problem.