Chapter 5

The weather outside was bright, and the garden stretched out beneath the sunlight. My crammed head needed some fresh air.

Right, taking a walk in the palace garden with Dash would surely help ventilate my stuffed-up brain.

“I’ll be stepping out to the garden for a moment.”

Telling the head lady-in-waiting briefly, I stepped outside with a light gait.

Vibrant, meticulously tended roses bloomed in rows on both sides of the walking path.

Looking at them, I thought roses were truly dual-natured.

It seemed that way because they were beautiful and fragrant at the top, yet densely packed with thorns at the bottom.

‘It’s a flower that’s just like Britain.’

Leaving behind that brief critique, and following a scurrying Dash around, I passed the fountain and stepped onto a quiet path. Walking while lost in this and that thought, I found myself near the area used by the servants before I knew it.

As I sat on a bench for a moment to catch my breath, the voices of maids drifted over from nearby.

“Ann! Are you late again? You’re going to get fired for real at this rate!”

“I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t want this either.”

Her voice was full of tears. The maid named Ann sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

“My baby cried all night, so I couldn’t even catch a wink of sleep. I tried to pull away and leave, but my feet just wouldn’t budge…”

“Ugh, I know it’s heartbreaking, but what can you do? You have to come out if you want to make a living.”

“I know… I know, but… sob.”

Listening in, she had a truly pitiful situation.

Some of the working moms I’d seen back at my old company…. They had looked so tough, but how much worse must 19th-century Britain be?

Feeling a pang of sympathy, I was about to get up from my seat when the maid named Mary whispered.

“Then why didn’t you try using Godfrey’s Cordial?”

“Godfrey’s Cordial?”

“Yeah, they say just a spoonful of that puts a baby right to sleep all night. Everyone puts their kids to sleep like that before coming out to work.”

Godfrey’s Cordial.

Just by the name, it sounded like a gentle, sweet medicine that would put babies to sleep like angels.

Yet the part about a single spoonful keeping them quiet all night felt somehow uneasy.

It brought to mind the face of Lord Melbourne handing over laudanum while calling it a “miraculous cure for headaches.”

‘No way. Surely they wouldn’t feed that to children?’

I shook my head vigorously.

No matter how desensitized people of this era were to laudanum, where in the world would you find parents who’d feed that to their own offspring?

That wasn’t something a human being would do, right?

Yet the uneasy feeling refused to easily fade away.

‘Come to think of it, wasn’t today the day Royal Physician Sir James Clark was scheduled to come?’

He came to Kensington Palace where I was staying for a routine checkup, and thinking about it, today was precisely that day.

I immediately turned my steps around and headed toward my study.

“Your Majesty, I shall begin the examination.”

A moment later, an elderly gentleman with flecks of white hair stood before me and bowed politely.

Sir James Clark, Victoria’s personal physician and counted among the finest doctors of this era.

“Welcome, Sir Clark. As it happens, there was something I was wondering about.”

I greeted him with an innocent face, acting as entirely oblivious as possible.

“Wondering about something, you say?”

“By any chance, have you ever heard of Godfrey’s Cordial?”

Sir Clark’s gentle expression hardened as a frown creased his brow.

“Your Majesty, how do you know the name of that item…? Could it be that you truly need it?”

He looked at me as if I had uttered a taboo word that should never cross my lips.

‘Ah, there really is something to this.’

At his reaction, I asked back as if I didn’t quite understand.

“Need it, you say? I merely happened to overhear the maids talking about that medicine. It sounded like a good remedy for children, isn’t it?”

Sir Clark let out a heavy sigh and hesitated for a moment before finally opening his mouth with a heavy tone.

“Your Majesty, that item is… not some household remedy.”

“If it’s not a medicine?”

“It is poison, Your Majesty. It is a sweet poison that lulls the souls of young children to sleep.”

“Poison?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Godfrey’s Cordial is a syrup made by mixing… molasses, spices, and laudanum. No, laudanum is practically its main ingredient.”

Insane.

The thought I had dismissed sank straight down with a heavy thud.

So parents had to go out to work, and since there was nowhere to leave their children, they poured laudanum down the throats of crying, fussing babies to knock them unconscious.

“Does this make any sense…?”

“Godfrey’s Cordial is exceptionally effective at making a child quiet. So effective, in fact… that people in the market sometimes call the syrup ‘Mother’s Comfort’.”

Mother’s Comfort.

The moment I heard that name, something shattered deep inside my chest.

The act of a mother feeding poison to her child had been given the name of comfort.

There are moments in this world when a name betrays its essence.

Just like calling opium a medicine, calling poison a comfort, and calling unconsciousness sleep.

Yet what was truly terrifying was that the one who pinned that name wasn’t malice, but desperation.

Poor mothers had no choices left.

Mothers had to go out to work, there was nowhere to leave their children, and laudanum was the only way left to soothe a crying child.

‘What kind of… insane country is this?’

Even after Sir Clark departed, I couldn’t leave the drawing room for a long time.

My head spun round and round, completely filled with the words laudanum and Godfrey’s Cordial.

Nobles drank laudanum for socialization and stress relief, while commoners fed laudanum to their children for survival.

‘…Is this even a country? It’s an opium den.’

An Opium War with Qing China? Of course, that was a grave problem.

Yet Britain’s internal state was far more serious than that.

And even the Kensington Palace where I resided was steeped in laudanum from the very top.

‘Right. How can I govern the country and set the world straight when I can’t even properly look after my own body and my own home?’

Shouting at Qing China not to sell opium was pointless if our own people were dying right behind our backs, after all.

There are many who cry out that they will change the world, but few who change their own households.

And unless the household changes, the world will never change.

When my thoughts reached that point, a wave of shame washed over me and my mind chilled sharply.

‘Right, the order is wrong. I must solve not the biggest problem first, but the closest problem first.’

I sprang up from my seat and clenched both fists tightly.

“Alright!”

I immediately summoned Baroness Lehzen and the Comptroller.

Just a few minutes later, Baroness Lehzen with her razor-sharp posture and Comptroller Lord Abernethy with an expression as strict as an accounting ledger stood before me.

“Did you call for us, Your Majesty?”

Without preamble, I cut straight to the core.

“Lord Abernethy, how much laudanum does our Kensington Palace have in storage?”

At my question, the Comptroller’s eyes widened slightly behind his spectacles.

“Laudanum, Your Majesty? It is kept in the medicine room as a household remedy, but… Allow me to check for a moment.”

He stared blankly into space as if mentally calculating something before replying immediately.

“I believe… there are approximately three to four pints stocked.”

“Is that so? Have the entirety of it disposed of by today.”

“…Pardon?”

The Comptroller’s jaw went slack as dumbfounded words burst from his lips, his strict expression instantly crumbling.

“Y-Your Majesty, how could you…? Laudanum is an essential household remedy for the health of Your Majesty and the people of the palace. For sudden stomachaches or insomnia, there is no better medicine than this….”

“It is an order.”

Meaning no further arguments would be tolerated. The Comptroller stammered, parting his lips before ultimately bowing his head. Next, I turned my gaze to Baroness Lehzen.

“Baroness Lehzen.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She too wore a clear look of bewilderment, yet desperately maintained her composure.

“Among the servants currently working here in Kensington Palace, please figure out how many of them are raising young children and report back to me.”

This time, Baroness Lehzen’s two eyes went round.

“…Pardon? The servants’… children, you say?”

“Yes. Especially focus on gathering figures for very young children who cannot take care of themselves.”

With an expression indicating she couldn’t possibly fathom why, Baroness Lehzen asked carefully.

“I ask your forgiveness, Your Majesty. But why on earth their children…?”

To her question, I replied with a bright smile.

“I’m thinking of setting up a nursery right here in Kensington Palace.”

“Pardon?”

That was it. The solution I had devised was none other than establishing a nursery within Kensington Palace.

It was akin to an on-site workplace daycare center in the 21st century.

For the commoner servants working at Kensington Palace, the palace was strictly their workplace.

Given that they had no one to leave their children with, resorting to feeding them laudanum syrup to knock them unconscious just so the kids wouldn’t cry and fuss while they were out working, what good would it do to simply dispose of the laudanum?

‘What would shouting at them not to feed them things like Godfrey’s Cordial ever accomplish?’

It would only drive the practice further underground and make the situation worse.

If you ban it, they’ll use it in secret, and if an accident happens then, who takes the responsibility?

The real solution isn’t banning the problematic behavior itself.

Wouldn’t improving the environment that forces them into that behavior naturally resolve the issue?

“There’s that warehouse on the east wing of the palace that doesn’t get much use, right? Have it cleaned out nicely and turned into a space for the children to stay.”

Baroness Lehzen and the Comptroller could only stare at me with continuing blank expressions.

“Hire a few nannies to look after the children, and bring in some simple toys and beds, too. That way, our palace staff won’t need to leave their children all alone at home anymore when they come out to work.”

A few days later, my instructions were executed swiftly.

The dusty warehouse was transformed beyond recognition into a cozy, sunlit space.

Soft carpets were laid across the floor, and a row of small wooden beds stood neatly against one side.

On the other side, colorful wooden dolls and rag balls filled wicker baskets.

Once the construction was finished, I summoned all the servants of the palace to gather in front of the newly decorated space.

Gardeners, coachmen, cooks, housemaids, and footmen alike.

Dozens of palace staff stood around with bewildered expressions, whispering among themselves.

I stepped up onto the dais, cleared my throat once, and spoke.

“Listen well, everyone.”

At my voice, the commotion subsided as if by magic.

“Starting today, anyone with young children at home or family members needing care should bring them along when coming to work at the palace.”

Murmur, murmur.

People failed to comprehend what I was saying.

Stepping down from the dais, I pulled wide open the door to the newly remodeled room.

“Your children will be looked after right here. So, never again feed your children those terrible things like Godfrey’s Cordial.”

At my declaration, shock swept across the faces of the gathered crowd.

A nursery?

Right inside the palace where the Queen lived?

For the children of mere servants like them?

Silence settled over the place.

Something incomprehensible by any standard of common sense in this era was unfolding right before their eyes.

People stood dazed. They wore expressions showing they couldn’t distinguish whether they were dreaming or facing reality.

Just then, the maid Ann, who had been crying in the garden, covered her mouth with both hands.

Tears streamed from her eyes, and Mary, standing right beside her, began to weep as well.

Beneath those tears, the anxiety that had been suppressed for days seemed to transform into relief and burst out all at once.

Like that, the tears spread from one person to two, and from two to ten.

Just as ice begins to melt and flow under the spring sunshine, a sense of relief bloomed across each and every face.

And someone shouted at the top of their lungs:

“Long live Her Majesty the Queen!”

Spurred by that cry, thunderous cheers erupted.

“Long live Her Majesty the Queen! Long live!”

Watching the rejoicing people, I felt a responsibility far greater than any sense of relief.
I might have saved dozens of Kensington Palace servants and their dozens of children, but when considering tens of millions of the population, today’s deed was nothing more than moving a single grain of sand on a vast beach.

Laudanum was still being sold in London pharmacies today. Godfrey’s Cordial would remain a hit in the markets tomorrow. Parliament had no intention of relinquishing the profits from the opium trade. The footsteps toward the Opium War were steadily approaching three years away.

Yet today, I had created an alternative rather than a prohibition, and rather than punishing the problematic behavior itself, I had changed the environment that forced people into it.

Ordering people not to take laudanum is easy. But commands alone only drive laudanum underground without changing the world. True change comes from building an environment where they don’t need to take it in the first place.

It was the same when I presented alternatives with boiling resentment before blowing the whistle on my company. Rather than shouting to prevent further sacrifices from happening, building a system where the production line halts automatically if safety devices are turned off is a far more certain alternative.

Viewed that way, what I did today might have been a very small step.

Yet do not all journeys begin with a first step, and doesn’t the direction of that first step determine the trajectory of the entire journey?

That was why I hoped.

That this single step I took today would become a great stepping stone that straightens the conscience of Britain in days to come.