[Zongyingmi] She is a princess and not sick

After Sherlock and Francis boarded the plane to Italy, Mycroft's car finally pulled into Windsor Castle.

Mycroft was employed by the Queen more than ten years ago to take care of the huge British government. He was once the best intelligence agent in the empire, and now he holds the lifeline of England.

The Queen received Mycroft in her study and invited him to watch the ballet dance of Francis when he was a child.

"When she came out of the operating room of Santa Ana Hospital, I thought I saw an angel." Elizabeth looked at the little Francis dancing on tiptoe in the video, and she smiled sweetly at her mother, "Since I've never seen Sith smile like that since Diana left."

"For princes and princesses, the loss of a mother is unbearable pain." Mycroft sat on the sofa above the queen, like an old gentleman.

"Yes, of course." The Queen said with a sigh. "Our decision to hide this from the children really makes me wonder if it was a wrong decision. How is Francis' mood now?"

"Anxiety. Emotional disorders have never happened again." Mycroft said, "Her Royal Highness is going to Imperial College for a master's degree. I have already found a psychologist for her. It's just...she has gone to Italy now."

"Italy?!" The Queen's gaze finally moved out of the image and looked at Mycroft with some unease.

Mycroft nodded slightly: "Yes. Her Royal Highness has already noticed the clues of that incident back then. The car accident in the United States has something to do with them."

The queen is old, her face is covered with the vicissitudes of the years, and she is deeply worried about her granddaughter: "Will Francis never give up?"

"With all due respect, Your Majesty. This is Her Royal Highness's war." Mycroft said calmly.

"War..." the Queen murmured, "If it is not handled properly, if the truth about Diana is revealed to the public one day, it will be a war. You have also seen Diana's influence."

"Obviously, my majesty." Mycroft said, "If the princess knows the whole truth, with the current state of her highness, under the shock, it is easy to go to the extreme of self-destruction."

"That's what I'm worried about." The queen looked worried. "She fell from the attic when she was seven years old. If Edward hadn't caught her, I wouldn't dare to think about the consequences."

In Francis's report, it was not mentioned that she had ever had suicidal tendencies, but Mycroft knew through the queen that Francis had jumped from the attic, and he judged from this behavior the impact of Diana's death on the young Francis.

"Of course, we all see this happening differently." Mycroft said, "As for the safety of His Highness in Italy, you don't have to worry about it."

"Don't let those people near Francis anymore." The queen has been torn apart by the Duke of York's eldest daughter, the rebellious Princess Angela, and even William and Zara's successive weddings have failed to make her really happy.

"As you wish."

Francis and Shylock landed in Rome, the political center of this ancient country, once glorious and glorious, with the defeat of World War II, there will never be the glory of the Roman Empire.

"Although Britain also has the Anglican Church, in fact, I think religion is useless except to prevent human progress." A girl with blond hair and sunglasses said to the tall man next to her, "For me, God , is just a modal particle.”

The tall man with curly hair spoke quickly: "Goldfish need spiritual sustenance, so they created God, Jesus, Allah, etc., instead of developing their brains. Although they don't have any brains."

"I really can't believe that after they persecuted so many scientists, there are still so many people enjoying the benefits of science while practicing the religion that persecutes them." The blonde girl snorted coldly, knowing that if she hadn't been born In such a family, she must be an atheist.

"I don't want to know about goldfish at all." The tall curly-haired man said arrogantly.

"By the way, the last time I met Watson, he looked haggard. Didn't go well recently?"

"Ah, it's not a big deal. He's unlucky, and always encounters red lights at work." Mr. Curly curled his mouth, looking in a good mood.

"Come on, Sherlock." The blond girl patted him on the shoulder. "Neil sent me a message. But I don't understand."

"What?"

"Why did Shreve Black's family choose Italy?" Francis always felt very strange about this point. "The Black family is all Egyptian. If I were them, I would go to West Asia or South Africa, such as Morocco, Lebanon, and South Africa."

"It's like the English hate the French. The Egyptians don't hate the Italians who turn their country into a province and the French who flatten the nose of a sphinx."

Sherlock looked at the chattering Francis and frowned: "So what happened to that guy named Neil?"

"He found a paparazzi who was chasing my mother back then, guess where he is now?" Francis raised his eyebrows.

"Italy, another Egyptian." Sherlock concluded.

Francis nodded: "Obviously. The two people in question both settled in Italy. There is no unreasonable coincidence in the world."

The two talked for a while longer and left the airport side by side.

The sun of the Emerald of Italy shines like the golden hair of Apollo.

Emerald means "city of flowers" in Italian.There are a total of 40 museums and art galleries, more than 60 palaces and many large and small churches in the city, which contain a large number of excellent artworks and precious cultural relics, so it is also known as "Western Athens".It is home to one of the richest deposits of Renaissance art in the world.

It is indeed a city with rich cultural heritage.

However, all this means nothing to Sherlock.

He has thought of a very interesting game.

Mrs. Black is a beautiful widow who lives alone. She has a traditional Egyptian appearance and is very glamorous.

Next door to her came a young French couple.

The husband is tall with curly hair, wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and the wife has charming red hair, a pair of talking blue eyes, and an enchanting tear mole under the corner of her left eye. The whole person is like a flower loved by her husband. of delicate flowers.

She held her husband's arm and held a dessert cake in one hand, showing a sweet smile.

"Hello, ma'am." The red-haired woman greeted Mrs. Blake warmly in Italian with a French accent. "I'm Sophie, and this is my husband Bruno Duran. Bruno and I just moved here, and it's a pleasure to be here." Be your neighbour."

"Hello." Mrs. Black welcomed the new neighbors into the door and prepared to make tea for them.

The redhead smelled the fresh plant violet fragrance mixed with the ambiguous sandalwood. She glanced at her husband next to her. He made a mouth shape to her, and the latter nodded.

The two quickly looked at the decorations in the house, and they could tell that the other was a Christian. In the center of the living room was a cross-stitched "Quran".

"There is nothing here to entertain you. There is only a little black tea from my son last time."

"Oh, don't say that, ma'am. In fact, we took the liberty to interrupt. I was so excited when I arrived at my new home, and Bruno finally agreed to let me settle here. Ah. This is a Napoleon cake I made myself. Sophie opened the cake box, and the top had already been cut. There were eight pieces in total. She showed a shy smile, "Try my craft, Bruno likes it very much."

"What I said is that there is room for improvement." Like Sophie, Bruno's Italian is as good as a textbook standard.

Sophie glanced at him reproachfully, picked up the black tea that Black had brewed, looked at the patterns on the cup, narrowed her eyes, and exclaimed, "Ah, what a beautiful cup. Although it's presumptuous, can you tell me where I bought it?" ?"

"Sophie, there is almost no room for cups at home." Bruno, her husband, said.

Mrs. Black smiled: "My son gave it to me. I don't know where I bought it."

Sophie smiled nonchalantly, and touched the hidden cobra pattern on the cup with her slender fingertips: "Ah, I'm taking the liberty. It's just that I'm an artist, and I can't help seeing beautiful things. Let’s take care of the conversation, madam, let’s enjoy the cake.”

The Durans enjoyed afternoon tea at Mrs. Black, and left after less than an hour.

After they returned to the house next door, Sophie heard her husband Bruno sneer: "That Mrs. Black is full of lies."

The author has something to say: When I write about this kind of pretend couple Play, I think about the psychological shadow area of ​​McCauf.

And when the princess and Sherlock play together, they are completely free.