monarch

The news of the king's assassination, after causing a great uproar, died away like a summer thunderstorm.The nobles all reported this matter with a secretive attitude, so that this topic has become a taboo in social circles.Obviously, in their view, the current calm is just the ebb tide before the tsunami, so what they should do now is to keep their mouths shut and see how things will develop in the future.Among the traffickers and pawns, the enthusiasm for discussing this incident has never diminished. However, after all, they lack the understanding of the inside story of the matter, and naturally no one really cares about their opinions.

It seems that the only trace left of this attempted assassination is the assassin's head hanging in front of the gate of the House of Lords.The temperature today is still not hot, so the head did not rot, but gradually shriveled over time, and the blood on it had completely dried up, and it looked like it was stained with black stains.There was nothing in the dark eye sockets, staring straight at the congressmen who entered and exited this hall, and the weird smile formed by the muscle contraction on the head made every person who passed under this head People can't help but feel the hairs stand on end.For those who have ghosts in their hearts, this head is undoubtedly an extremely obvious deterrent.

After a dull fortnight or so, the social world came alive again in early April.Nowadays, in order not to expose themselves to suspicion, members of the parliament have changed their schedules and stayed in London, and they naturally also want to find something to relieve their boredom.Therefore, during this period of time, dances and parties are particularly intensive. A certain guest can even go to a certain mansion for dinner first, then go to another lady's salon, and finally go to a ball organized by another nobleman after midnight.Invitations to banquets and balls are flooding the city like a tide, and for the owners of those luxurious mansions, organizing a grand event seems to have become a due social duty.

The uncrowned queen of society, the Duchess of Suffolk also announced in early April that she would hold a grand reception.The official reason for the reception was to view the Duchess's latest collection of an ancient Greek statue of the harvest goddess Demeter, which Cretan farmers dug up from their vineyards a year ago. Last month, the duchess bought it from a famous Italian connoisseur with a huge sum of [-] pounds, and placed it in her luxurious London mansion.

The party was scheduled for April [-]th, exactly one month after the assassination of the king, but as early as two weeks ago when the duchess sent out the invitation, the party had already become the focus of attention of the entire high society.For the Duchess's evening, her friends praised her gesture of generosity: the Duchess shared the breathtaking beauty of this work of art with all, rather than keeping it for herself behind closed doors; Or those who are jealous of the duchess use the usual sour tone to ridicule her for fame or showing off. After all, anyone who knows the duchess knows that the way the duchess appreciates works of art is to look at the prices on the price list. How many zeros are written.But in any case, everyone must admit that it is a very dignified thing to be able to pay enough money to build a battleship without blinking an eye to buy a statue, and if they do such a thing one day, Naturally, he also wanted to find an opportunity to show off to the entire social world.

At nine o'clock in the evening on April [-]th, the front yard of the Duchess of Suffolk was brightly lit, and on each step of the grand staircase in front of the mansion stood a servant in livery holding a flaming fire. The torches stood there motionless, looking like a row of silent stone statues in an ancient Egyptian temple.

A decent gentleman with gray hair stood at the entrance of the hall and bowed politely to the guests.He took the invitation cards held in their hands with his white gloved hands, and then announced with a loud voice that a certain adult, sir or madam, was coming.There are a few famous names mixed in from time to time, causing a slight commotion in the crowd. However, this privilege of making waves in the crowd belongs to only a few guests, and more people do not arouse the interest of the crowd. , and some were even treated coldly or ridiculed.

Holyhead Baron George Villeret belonged to the second type of person. When his name was announced, he did not arouse much interest from the crowd, but he did not attract ridicule and ridicule either.The baron didn't seem to care, nodded towards the butler, and walked into the hall on his own.

Baron Holyhead is a 27-year-old young man, quite handsome, with a beautiful moustache under his tall nose bridge, his two red lips always seem to have a vague smile, and that A pair of beautiful green eyes look like a pair of beautiful emeralds.With this face, he attracted the attention of several female guests talking and laughing, but that's all. Although the baron still has a title, his family's property has declined long before he was born, so he doesn't care about it. It doesn't matter politically or economically.And his role at this kind of party is just to play a beautiful vase. I have to say that he does a good job in this job. He talks humorously, and there is a melancholy temperament in his eyes. It not only makes those young girls' hearts spring up, but also makes those old wives' hearts flutter.For this alone, every hostess in London who planned to give a party would not omit his name from the guest list.

As soon as he stepped into the warm hall, the baron gracefully untied the tie of the fur cloak, handed the heavy cloak for going out to the servants who came forward, and then scanned the wide front hall, the high ceiling, painted A beautifully frescoed ceiling and huge tapestries hanging on the four walls give this vestibule its grandeur.The fire in the tall fireplace is burning red, and the whole room is filled with the fragrance of pine wood burning.

Baron Holyhead smiled softly, and stepped up the beautiful red marble staircase. Two such staircases went up from the left and right sides respectively, and joined together on the second floor. His hands stroked the exquisite staircase along the way. Brass railings, humming a little song softly.

At the entrance of the living room on the second floor stood two girls in blue skirts, holding baskets full of flowers in their hands, and presenting flowers to the guests with smiles.

The baron walked up to one of the girls, took out a blooming red rose from the flower basket, and pinned it on his hat.Then he straightened his slightly curly chestnut hair a few times, blinked at the girl, and noticed with satisfaction that her face was flushed with a crimson glow like sunset.With his chest out and his legs slightly apart, he strode into the first drawing room.

The Duchess of Suffolk stood in the center of the room, surrounded by her henchmen and admirers. She nodded proudly towards them and spoke a few words from time to time, like a goddess being worshiped by her followers.

Baron Holyhead walked up to the Duchess and bowed to her, and the Duchess returned the salute with a slight nod.There was a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, showing that although this guest was not important, she was also quite happy to have him there.

After finishing this act of courtesy, the baron began to wander around the living room, and many people, like him, looked around the room curiously like a group of spectators visiting an exhibition, admiring the scene from time to time. Elegant marble columns, exquisite tapestries from Seville, or priceless oriental porcelain.

When he followed the flow of people into the second living room, his arm was suddenly grabbed, and a somewhat low voice rang in his ears:

"There you are at last, George, and I thought you were having fun with some woman again."

The baron turned around and gently shook the hand on his arm. He felt that the hand was as cold as ice, "I'll just take it as a greeting, Patrick."

Sir Patrick Wintley rolled his eyes, "You should have come an hour ago," he lowered his voice, "this is a task for the two of us, you'd better leave it to me .”

"Those who can do more work." The baron couldn't help showing his invincible smile on social occasions.

"Don't make that look." Sir Wintley gave him a glare. "I'm not a prey to your pleasure. If you want me to do your work in your stead, it's your share of the stipend." Give it all to me."

Baron Holyhead, despite his modest fortune, was a profligate spender, so it is no wonder that there are rumors in society that he is getting money from the women around him, and even that he is committed to some wealthy old widow. A kind of rumor.They would have been surprised if they had learned that the imaginary old widow was actually Sir Walsingham, the unsmiling head of the secret police.

Baron Holyhead and Sir Wintley received a considerable monthly allowance from Sir Walsingham, and in return, they had to use their noble status to serve as Sir Walsingham's eyes and ears Mixed in this kind of noble party - after all, most spies have no possibility of getting an invitation to this kind of party.

As soon as the news that the Duchess was about to hold a gala was made public, Sir Walsingham immediately attracted the attention: For potential rebellious parties, what occasion is more suitable for connection than such a gala where everyone will attend? ?Sir Walsingham is an extremely intelligent person. He was keenly aware that there might be key clues hidden in the party, so he sent a large surveillance team, Baron Holyhead and Winterley The Jazz are part of that.

"Didn't I come here?" the baron shrugged. "To be honest, it's a waste of time to come so early. Big fish won't be hooked so early." He looked around, "Did you find anything?"

"All those who can be named have come, the chief minister, Bishop Gardiner, the dukes... people from all parties." Sir Wentley replied.

"Where is the chief minister? I didn't see him?" The baron looked around again. "I did see Bishop Gardner, the Earl of Nottingham, the Earl of Newcastle...Are you sure he's here?"

"Of course I'm sure." Sir Wentley pointed to the door leading to the next living room, "Maybe he went to see the statue." He snorted disdainfully, "Our mistress put that thing In the conservatory at the very end, there is no doubt that the purpose is to compel the guests to have a tour of the whole house, which is a ridiculous show."

The two followed the flow of people and walked forward. They passed through several connected living rooms, each of which was decorated with resplendent gold and jade, which attracted the amazement of the visiting guests.

At the end of the last living room is the door leading to the conservatory. In this huge conservatory, various plants from tropical countries are planted. , Countless exotic flowers and plants are growing vigorously.The air in the greenhouse is very humid, and the fresh earthy smell mixed with the scent of the ladies’ powder makes people feel a strange feeling, making the visiting audience wonder whether they are in the African jungle or in London. The very center of the city.

Under the branches and leaves of a circle of palm trees, there is a pool made of white marble. Around the pool are four whales made of the same marble. Clear spring water flows from their half-open mouths. In the pool covered with fine golden sand, colorful fish swim leisurely in the water.

On the platform in the center of the pool, among the branches stretching like spider webs, the huge statues a few people tall stood there, motionless.The Harvest Goddess raised her head proudly, holding her famous horn in her hand, and through the glass ceiling above her head, you can clearly see the stars on the sky.

"It's really majestic." Sir Wentley admired in a low voice, he was born to watch this shocking scene.

"Yeah, spending fifty thousand pounds to buy this thing is truly majestic." Baron Holyhead chuckled lightly, drawing his companion's eyes again.

"Let's go and have a drink," said Lord Holyhead again.They walked around the statue, and followed the flow of people back to the living room where they had just entered.

The number of people in each living room became more and more, and the mansion had turned into a noisy and huge wave. The smell of the incense powder mixed with the stuffy air was simply suffocating.The guests, dressed in their best gowns, with their colorful satins and feathers, looked like the stalls at a country fair.

"It's as hot as a bathroom in here." Baron Holyhead sighed, his mouth becoming more and more parched. "I must hurry to the dining room and drink a glass of iced fruit wine. What the hell."

Sir Wintley did not answer, but from the look on his face he had no objection to the proposal.

"Seriously, are you sure the Chief Minister is here?" Baron Holyhead asked again when they reached the door of the restaurant, "I still haven't seen him."

"You can ask anyone in this mansion." Sir Wentley said, "No one will ignore the pomp and pomp when he came in. Everyone rushed to greet him, and only hoped that the lord I can see them." He paused slightly, "But to be honest, I really feel that I haven't seen him after that... It's really a bit strange."

"Yes, logically speaking, the lord should always be surrounded by a group of people, and he should be very recognizable." Baron Holyhead frowned slightly, "Could it be that he left early?"

"So early? It's not yet twelve o'clock. This is his in-laws' party. He should stay until midnight anyway so as not to look rude." Sir Wentley shook his head lightly.

They entered the restaurant, walked through the bustling stream of people who came to drink, and came to the long table with ice-cold champagne, and each picked up a glass.

"I wish you good health." Baron Holyhead raised his glass to his companion, tilted his neck, and drank the golden liquid in the crystal glass.

Sir Wintley also raised his glass. Compared to his companions, he drank very slowly, scanning the entire restaurant while drinking.

"It's very wrong," said Sir Wintley, putting his empty glass back on the table. "Do you feel it?"

"To be honest, I do feel that something is wrong," Baron Holyhead also became serious, "but I can't tell exactly what went wrong."

"Do you remember those important guests you saw before?" Sir Wentley leaned into his companion's ear and whispered, "Have you seen them since then?"

"It doesn't seem to be there." Baron Holyhead seemed to understand something, he raised his head and looked around the room, "Not here, nor in the living rooms we passed through when we came back just now."

"So where did they all go?" the baron looked at his companion.

"I think that's what we need to figure out tonight," said Sir Wintley. "Come on, let's take a look around."

The crowd was like an ocean current, slowly flowing in the various living rooms and corridors. Following the flow of people, the two of them repassed through the living rooms they had visited before, and finally returned to the huge statue in the conservatory.The Harvest Goddess had a faintly haughty smile on her mouth, as if she was mocking these two reckless guests who wanted to pry into the secrets of the host's house.

"I still haven't seen those people." Baron Holyhead pulled his companion to the back of a dense palm tree. He stretched out his foot and lightly rubbed the sole of his boot on a stone. Moss, "Even our hostess has disappeared, you are right, there must be something wrong here." The disappearance of the guests can also be interpreted as leaving the venue early, but the sudden disappearance of the hostess cannot be justified.

Sir Wentley looked at the smile of the Harvest Goddess without saying a word, and those two thin lips curved slightly, like an ominous comet streaking across the dark sky.

"What a strange thing." He bowed his head thoughtfully and said softly.