Chapter 1: I Transmigrated into an English Prince

Everyone, before reading the article, please leave your brain here ^>៸៸៸៸<^ ◍˃ᵕ˂◍ ꒦ິ^꒦ິ ʢ˶ᵒ ᵕ ˂˶ʡᶻ < p>

⌯'ᵕ'⌯: ʚ˃ ᵕ ˂ ˃̶͈ ꇴ ˂̶͈ ˶ᵒ ᵕ ˂˶ ᐡ•͈ ·̭ •͈ᐡ

"October 29, 1183. The weather looks pretty good today, but who knows how it will change tonight. I've been here for four months now, and the food is absolutely terrible; it's like a culinary hell."

Jeff wrote in modern English in his diary, with two previously used diaries stacked beside him. The thick parchment and the delicate quill pen made writing difficult, but for the sake of secrecy, Jeff chose to write his diary in modern English.

"Your Highness, the King requests your presence," a maid hurried in, pushing open the door to deliver the king's command.

Jeff sighed, closed his diary, placed it on the table, and said helplessly, "Alright, let's go now."

When he first arrived in this world, Jeff was dizzy and almost sick to death. It was only after he recovered that he began to slowly understand the various aspects of this world. The first thing he confirmed was that he had come to the historical Kingdom of England. As for himself, he had become the young version of an unlucky historical king.

"John, the Lackland."

Comparatively speaking, it was like transmigrating into Emperor Huizong of Song or Emperor Xian of Han in Chinese history—emphasizing a sense of tragedy.

However, fortunately, he was not yet a king, just a young prince. There were still many opportunities, and Jeff had plenty of room to maneuver.

Since his transmigration, Jeff had been staying at Oxford Palace. Although it was called a palace, it was actually just an ordinary castle, with decorations slightly better than those of a typical noble's castle. Other than that, the walls were still cold stone bricks, and the floors were still creaky wooden planks.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps, falling on the brown floor, making the castle less gloomy. But to call it particularly bright would be an overstatement.

All the guards and knights they encountered along the way saluted respectfully, as they were facing the king's most favored youngest son.

When they reached the king's bedroom door, the knight at the door bowed to Jeff and helped him open the door.

"Hi, John!"

As the door opened, an eight-year-old boy waved at John, who naturally nodded back at him.

This was his nephew, Otto of the Welf family. Beside Otto stood a sturdy middle-aged man with long hair and a beard. He wore neither luxurious robes nor a noble crown, but his confident strength exuded a regal presence.

This was Henry II, the founder of the Angevin Empire and one of the most legendary kings in English history.

"Father."

John was about to bow when Henry II interrupted him.

"Little Otto, you should leave. I need to talk with your uncle John about some matters." Henry II's voice softened when he addressed his son and grandson.

Otto obediently nodded and closed the door as he left the room.

As the door shut, Henry II sighed deeply and took out a letter. John stepped forward, took the letter, and read it carefully.

"The Earl of Gloucester is gravely ill this time. If nothing unexpected happens, he won't survive the winter." Henry II's tone was very cold, showing no sign of the familial relationship between him and the Earl of Gloucester, William FitzRobert.

The Earl of Gloucester was an illegitimate son of Henry I, who was Henry II's grandfather. The two had even fought side by side, but when faced with real interests, Henry II showed his ruthless side.

"You will set off for the Earl of Gloucester's territory tomorrow to confirm your engagement with his daughter Isabella." Henry II stroked the ring on his finger that symbolized power. "As for the inheritance rights of his other two daughters, I will find a way to help you settle them."

After Henry II finished speaking, John had almost finished reading the letter. He put it down, his expression revealing nothing. He knew that his father was seeking a domain for him.

The Earl of Gloucester had no sons to inherit his lands. If John could marry Isabella, he would gain the Earl's lands and hold a large part of southwestern England. 

Though these lands faced the threat of the Welsh, from another perspective, if the Kingdom of England wanted to conquer Wales or Ireland, the ports of Gloucester would be the most important launching point.

Undoubtedly, this was a win-win situation. For Henry II, it would solidify his power in the southwest of England, and for John, it meant acquiring a vast territory.

"Go, John."

Henry II's tone was filled with trust. In his eyes, John was just seventeen, at the prime age to undertake significant endeavors. He believed that once John obtained the Earl of Gloucester's lands, he would surely achieve great things.

John's response also pleased Henry II: "I will handle this well, Father."

With a slight nod from Henry II, John left the room.

As soon as he exited, John saw a group of officials waiting outside the door, seemingly awaiting an audience with Henry II. Upon seeing John, they all knelt to pay their respects. John, however, made no acknowledgment and walked straight through the crowd.

"Have my guards prepare. We depart for the Earl of Gloucester's territory tomorrow," John commanded his attendants as he walked. "Bring all my books. Immediately."

Upon receiving the orders, the attendants quickly busied themselves, and the entire Oxford Palace buzzed with activity. One after another, attendants hurried to prepare John's belongings.

Meanwhile, Henry II quietly observed the scene, feeling a surge of emotions.

"John has grown up," Henry II remarked to his knight, Roches, forgoing his usual entertainment of jesters and singers. "He now looks like a real man."

"You are right, Your Majesty."

Roches' voice was deep, seemingly indifferent to what his king was saying. Or perhaps, he simply didn't care about the king's words.

"Since that illness, he has changed a lot."

Henry II's tone carried both comfort and a more complex emotion. He had just endured a rebellion from his eldest son, Henry the Young King, and his other two sons were also restless. 

What if John became another source of instability?

At this thought, Henry II shook his head, as if trying to dispel these unwanted thoughts.