To be a good prime minister, I first became the leader of a secret religion.

Chapter 34 White Spider

Margaretia hadn't expected things to go so smoothly. She had only wanted to ask the twin informants in the circus about Viscount Hammond, but they hadn't anticipated what they would say:

"Would you like to attend the salon, Margarita?"

"...Do you have a solution?"

"Yes, Margarita, we know a way to get an invitation, and you might be able to succeed."

This surprised Margaret Lisa: "You mean other people in the circus tried your method but failed?"

"That's right," one of the twins said.

"Viscount Hammond is very selective. Although he generously allows commoners to attend his salons, he will vet the visitors," said the other of the twins.

"Applicants need to face the window after sunset, light a candle, and stare at themselves in the window, remaining awake all night until dawn."

What a strange request! Margaretia prepared herself and complied, but nothing happened. The next morning, she was so tired that she fell asleep as soon as she received the invitation from the twins. It took her a long time to adjust to the time difference.

Viscount Hammond's request was strange, but not difficult to fulfill. Margaret couldn't understand why no one had been able to get an invitation before. She even suspected that the Viscount wanted to see her and was deliberately using this method to attract her attention...

Well, let's not treat our opponents like idiots; let's assume there's more to the story.

Early this morning, amidst the cries of newsboys, Viscount Hammond sent a discreet carriage to take Margaret to Bedford Square.

Margaret felt a little nervous, but mostly excited.

Her mother worked as a maid in a wealthy family with strict family rules, so she taught her children to be well-behaved and follow the rules from a young age. Unfortunately, all of her children were rebellious, with her eldest daughter, Margaret, being the most outstanding among them.

Putting aside her stubborn decision to come to London a year ago, just now, the thought of Margaret Lisa escaping her mundane and boring daily life and experiencing unprecedented excitement makes her head spin.

And who knows, maybe the "Prime Minister" will come too. It hasn't been long since they last met... well, not long at all, and she still doesn't even know his name...

To calm herself down, Margaret said to the newsboy before getting into the car, "Give me a copy of today's morning paper!"

"Alright, Miss Zeller!" the newsboy exclaimed enthusiastically, pulling out a newspaper and handing it to her. "You've come to the right place! The headline here is absolutely worth reading! Our Prime Minister, Mr. Winston Wheeler, has delivered his inaugural address, claiming he received a divine message from Her Majesty the Queen and vows to fight to the death against heresy that threatens the safety of the people!"

Margaret disagreed: "My brother says politicians are all a bunch of liars."

"You might be right," the newsboy didn't argue, "but the oracle can't be false. This morning at daybreak, all of Great Britain was talking about the new Prime Minister. I bet you it will be the hottest topic for the next few days—no, at least the next two weeks!"

Margaret was amused by the newsboy's exaggerated tone. Although she was still full of thoughts about Viscount Hammond, she also felt a bit curious about the current prime minister.

After carrying the newspaper and the hem of her long dress, Margaret Lisa boarded the carriage and opened the newspaper.

Just as the newsboy had said, almost every page of the morning paper was about this. The reporter analyzed Winston's speech word by word and then praised him without any subtlety. After reading the whole thing, even Margaret, who had never paid attention to politics, remembered the name "Winston Wheeler".

"I hope the reporters at this newspaper aren't taking bribes..."

Margaret, who harbors a dislike for politicians due to her brother's attitude, mutters to herself.

The coachman sent by the Viscount overheard this and said amidst the clatter of hooves, "I don't think so! Guess why? This morning I read no fewer than five newspapers, all from different newspapers. Some of these newspapers have very bad relations with each other, but this time, their evaluation of the Prime Minister's inaugural speech was remarkably consistent! Even if he bribed one newspaper, he couldn't possibly bribe all of them, could he?"

Margaret asked in surprise, "Really? Not a single dissenter?"

"At least not in the firsthand news," the driver said. "But as you know, our country can never truly unite; there will always be people who express different opinions. I reckon in a couple of days some commentators will be rushing up and fighting with these newspaper reporters."

"We've arrived at Bedford Square, Miss Zeller."

Margaret Lid lifted the curtain and was greeted by a solemn and upright brick-red wall. The houses were close together, with windows and doors arranged almost perfectly. The house number 20 was located in the very center of them. The garden in front was surrounded by an iron fence, with the shadows of the trees extending high beyond the fence and casting small, messy shadows on the ground.

"I need to pick up another person. You can just go up and knock on the door," the coachman said.

Margaret responded, picked up her handbag, stepped off the carriage, and entered the garden. Before she could even press the doorbell, the door was opened from the inside.

A pale woman stood behind the door.

She wore an oversized white hat with a low brim, and a thin veil attached to it shrouded her face in a hazy mist, revealing only a pale, porcelain-like face behind the veil.

Equally eye-catching as her hat was her lower body, with a wide skirt stretched outwards in layers by a crinoline, almost filling the entire porch space. In addition to its beauty, it also inadvertently reminded people of the abdominal cavity of some arthropod.

The woman's waist and abdomen appeared very slender against the backdrop of her skirt. Her hands were quietly folded in front of her, wearing well-fitting white gloves. Her whole person seemed to have been detached from reality, leaving only a silhouette wrapped in white.

"Hello, Miss Zeller."

She spoke, her voice very flat, nothing special about it, "Please come in."

This must be the Viscountess.

Margaretia pondered silently.

It was just as strange as the twins had described.

She followed the Viscountess through the long porch to a spacious and bright reception room.

The room was already full of people.

Margaret immediately spotted Winston in the crowd. He was wearing a dark gray morning suit with a light-colored single-breasted waistcoat underneath, and he was carrying a cane. Beside him was a tall, blonde, blue-eyed woman with a long, swan-like neck.

Margaretia suppressed her excitement and didn't let her gaze linger on the people she knew for long. She tiptoed to an empty sofa and sat down.

The sofa was very soft to the touch, and seemed to have a faint warmth to it.

As soon as she settled in, the Viscountess, who had entered the reception room with her, said, "Everyone is here. The book salon will now officially begin. I am the host..."

She was interrupted by Winston halfway through her sentence.

"Excuse me, madam," he gestured slightly with his cane, "I have a question. This is my first time attending a salon hosted by the Viscount. Is he not attending in person?"

"Yes, there was an emergency this morning, and Charlie went to handle it," the Viscountess replied. Charlie was Viscount Hammond's name. "I will handle it in his place..."

Winston interrupted her once again.

"I'm sorry, madam," Winston said gently. "I have no problem with you, but what about the guests who came specifically for the Viscount?"

The Viscountess did not answer immediately.

A middle-aged man sitting next to Margaret said with dissatisfaction:

"What do you mean? Didn't we come to this salon to exchange reading experiences?"