Chapter 1892: Chapter 139: Chaos in Albion (Part 2)

The Duchess of Kent felt a tightness in her chest at these words, but she still nodded: "Yes, he is a local, and very well-liked, perhaps he can..."

"No!" Conroy immediately interrupted: "The situation is already complex enough, allowing anyone not certified by our trust system to enter the Princess’s room is an uncontrollable risk. I’ve tolerated Snow once, but there can’t be a second time. Your Highness, please understand, I’m not opposing treatment, but preventing new troubles. Think about it, if Dr. Pulendris’s diagnosis differs from Dr. Clark’s, which one should we believe? If there’s a conflict of opinions, in the end, it will only waste Her Royal Highness’s time."

Here, Conroy seemed to realize his tone was a bit harsh, so he paused and then spoke more softly as if to reassure the other party: "Just hold on for one more night, Dr. Clark will arrive in Ramsgate by morning. By then, whether it’s medicine or something else, we’ll have a recognized basis for judgment."

The Duchess bowed her head, her gaze falling on her handkerchief, her fingertips unconsciously twisting the fabric.

She didn’t argue further, but the shadow of worry between her brows did not fade one bit: "Very well, John... you’re always right."

In the room, the gas lamp’s flame flickered lightly, and the shadows cast by the lampshade quivered, just like her turbulent emotions.

At this moment, a steady and powerful knocking sound came from downstairs.

Thud, thud, thud!

The rhythm was distinct, neither hurried nor slow, but it fell on everyone’s ears like an iron hammer.

Conroy drew back the curtains to take a look below, then signaled to the attendant at the door: "Go see who it is."

The attendant, hearing the order, hurriedly went downstairs to open the door.

The porch lights of Albion Villa were dim, the sea mist had already seeped in, carrying with it the scent of damp salt in the air.

The brass buttons on Sheriff Murphy’s tailcoat glinted faintly in the lighting.

"Good evening!" Murphy slightly lifted his hat in a polite gesture: "Pardon the interruption, please inform the Duchess of Kent that Frank Murphy, Sheriff of Ramsgate, is here by order, with an urgent matter concerning the safety of Her Royal Highness Princess Victoria, which must be delivered in person."

The attendant instinctively took the document but dared not open it, holding it to his chest with a hint of caution in his eyes: "Sheriff... it’s quite late; the Duchess and the Princess have already turned in for the night. Could you possibly wait until morning to..."

Before he could finish speaking, Murphy shook his head, raising his hand politely yet decisively to interrupt: "I’m afraid not, sir. This is a formal search warrant; you have the duplicate, and I keep the original. The reason is clearly stated, there’s suspicion of an unidentified group of robbers infiltrating Ramsgate, and to ensure Her Highness’s safety, we must immediately verify the situation inside."

Saying this, he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice: "I understand this is a royal residence, so my people will only enter with your consent and won’t disturb more than necessary. But time is of the essence, and this is a grave affair, please convey this swiftly."

The attendant faltered for a moment, his eyes flicking between Murphy and the direction of the staircase inside, seemingly weighing whether to report immediately.

Just as he hesitated, there came a rush of footsteps from the stairs.

Conroy descended quickly, fastening his coat buttons as he went.

"Who are you?" he arrived at the front hall corner, his gaze bypassing the attendant to settle on the sheriff standing outside the door.

The attendant quietly explained, "Sir, it’s the Sheriff of Ramsgate, saying there’s something urgent..."

Conroy cut him off directly: "This late, what couldn’t wait until tomorrow?"

He walked to the door in a few steps, drawing closer to Murphy, yet still separated by a doorframe, as if deliberately marking a boundary: "Sheriff, I appreciate your concern for Her Highness’s safety, but I assure you, everything here is perfectly fine."

Murphy stood steadily outside, unfazed by Conroy’s stern refusal: "You’ve already received the duplicate of the search warrant. The reason is clearly stated: suspected intruders have infiltrated. According to the procedure, we must confirm tonight."

"Intruders? Hah..." Conroy gave a light laugh, as if restraining some offense: "I believe you have been misled. The defenses at Albion Villa are sufficient to handle anyone with ill intentions. You know, there are not only royal attendants but also guards personally selected by me. Frankly, not even a fly could get into Albion Villa."

Murphy smiled and replied, "If everything is as you say, this search will simply be a formality and will be over soon."

However, Conroy refrained from continuing on this note, instead adopting a courteous tone: "But the point is, a royal residence is not suited for a commotion in the middle of the night. Her Highness needs peace and rest at the moment, not the sound of strangers’ footsteps and interrogation. I understand your sense of duty, but I hope you can understand my way of protecting Her Highness."

Saying this, he lowered his voice slightly in a veiled threat: "Sheriff, if there are indeed robbers, I assure you they wouldn’t even touch the courtyard wall. But if you insist on acting now, I’m afraid it will only create unnecessary tension between the Royal Family and the local government of Ramsgate."

Murphy lifted the brim of his hat as a gesture of apology, yet his stance remained firm: "Honorable Sir John Conroy, you may surely trust your defense, but I must also trust in my duty. The search warrant is not the decision of a single individual but is a legitimate document authorized by the City Council and sanctioned by His Majesty the King, conferring each local sheriff with the inherent duty and authority. Its efficacy is not lessened by the villa’s occupant."