[Zongyingmi] She is a princess and not sick

After dinner, Francis and Mr. Holmes played another game of chess.

Sherlock began to play the violin at the request of his mother. Francis, who had heard McCaughey play the cello, felt that Sherlock's violin level was also amazing.

Francis sat next to Mycroft, quietly enjoying the music.

The Holmes couple were obviously absorbed in the sound of their youngest son's violin.

Mycroft glanced at his parents, turned his head and leaned closer to Francis' ear: ""Wewishyouamerrychristmas", I thought he would pull "Canon"."

"After all, it's Christmas. Your Christmas dinner wasn't as... tense as expected." Francis turned his head closer to Mycroft and said.

"He's half an adult after all." Mycroft described Sherlock like this.

"Maybe you always stimulate him." Francis remembered that she always stimulated William with her hairline, and smiled, "Watson told me that you described Sherlock's detective work as Legwork (running errands) .You shouldn't have said that, Mycroft."

Francis' tone did not express any disapproval, and Mycroft reached out to hold Francis' hand on his lap: "Sometimes people need stimulation. Sherlock has the brain of a scientist and a philosopher, but chooses to be a detective , who can know what he is thinking?"

"Maybe this is an unsolvable mystery," Francis said, not seeing the glint of darkness in Mycroft's deep green eyes.

He thought of the unspeakable child of the Holmes family.

Since Uncle Rudy's death, it's been a secret that only McCoff has known.

"Mykoff, Mykoff. What's wrong?" Francis saw that Mykoff was distracted.

Mycroft was pulled back to reality by Francis' voice, he shook his head, but Francis laughed: "Did that sentence before dinner make you nervous?"

Mycroft looked into Francis's blue eyes, as clear as the waters of the Aegean Sea, and said, "We've been avoiding that topic since you woke up. I think we should have an honest talk." .”

"After I wake up? If you must describe it that way. Well, are you sure this isn't some sort of settlement?" Francis pursed his lips and asked.

"No. Alek. We never talked about empathy." Mycroft brought it up unsolicited, and Francis, after apologizing, kept it under wraps and never brought it up again.

Francis glanced at the Holmes couple, turned sideways to face Mycroft, and frowned: "You want to talk now?"

"Don't worry, they are busy listening to Sherlock's song, and he will play their love song "Spring Song" next." Mycroft saw Francis' concerns.

Francis pursed her lips, she sighed, looked into Mycroft's deep eyes, and said after a long time of deliberation: "This is a test. Hannibal tested me. His prediction of my collapse has deviated .”

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, and he looked at Francis with disapproval: "You shouldn't have let him experiment on you. Your mental state has not been very stable."

Francis shrugged: "I know I have a cancer in my heart. It's growing on my heart, and all of you want to pull it out. I know, but all of you are hesitant because you don't know that after sex, I What will happen? It's just that I didn't know why before, and now I do. Hannibal doesn't want to lose a friend who can talk, but he also wants to know where my limit is. After all, before this, all his experiments failed .”

"Do you know what kind of person he is?" Mycroft checked Hannibal, and if Francis wasn't involved, he wouldn't care about this person.

Francis was silent for a while, Sherlock had already started playing "The Voice of Spring", she nodded: "I know what kind of person he is, and I also know about his sister. In fact, he also has a certain empathy effect on me. He once I said that I am very similar to his sister Misha. Well... Helena told me that when I met her for the first time, you told her that I was your girlfriend, when did I become your girlfriend? "

"I used the future tense, maybe she ignored it." Mycroft said lightly, he had such a plan after Francis' car accident in the United States.

Francis looked at the somewhat arrogant Mycroft, and couldn't help chuckling: "Well, Mr. Holmes, you have the final say."

Mycroft's hands were on her shoulders, half wrapped around her shoulders.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows while playing the violin. He finished the last note and said to his parents: "It's useless for you to prepare a room for Francis. She will sleep in McCoff's room tonight."

"Sherlock!" Mycroft's voice rose.

"Sherlock, you are so rude," said Mr. Holmes.

"Don't talk like that, Xiali." Mrs. Holmes looked at her youngest son with disapproval, and stood there stubbornly.

Francis was stunned for a while, and then she laughed, her blue eyes looked at the high-altitude detective: "Can't I be reserved for a while, Sherlock?"

Francis' witticism eased the atmosphere in the room, only Sherlock said, "I'm telling the truth."

Then he managed to win the stares of the other Sherlock Holmes present.

The curly-haired detective pursed his mouth and fell silent.

Mrs. Holmes also asked Francis not to mind: "Honey, although we are a traditional British family, in some things, Richard and I are still very modern."

"Mom," Mycroft called.

Mrs. Holmes was willing to save face for her eldest son and did not bring up the subject again.

In the end, Francis couldn't bear the pressure of being questioned on the sidelines the next day, so he decided to sleep in the guest room.

She swore that she saw Mrs. Holmes' slightly disappointed eyes.

Francis glanced helplessly at McCoff beside him, this is the disadvantage of finding an older boyfriend.

Sherlock utterly despises these two people who even rolled the sheets.

McCoff ignored his younger brother's contempt, and calmly left a good night kiss on Francis' face: "Good night, Eric."

Francis also kissed McCoff back: "Good night, McCoff."

After Francis entered the room, McCoff also returned to his own room. After he washed, a phone call soon interrupted his reading time before going to bed.

Mycroft frowned and picked up the phone, the guy would call him at this time.

He looked at the phone's display screen—Seleucus.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, and he connected the phone: "Holmes."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Holmes." Seleucus's voice was unhurried and arrogant. "I hope you have not disturbed your holiday time."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Seleucus," Mycroft responded politely.

"I checked the files from that year." Seleucus went straight to the point, his brows were deeply frowned, "We found some things. But based on the things from the past, we don't plan to tell His Highness."

Seleucus' words made Mycroft sit up straight. He knew that Seleucus must have found something, but he didn't want Francis, who had finally gotten out of Diana's death incident, to fall into it again. Seleucus' decision rested on his As expected, but what was the point of the call?

"However?" Mycroft asked calmly.

"With us, with all due respect, our abilities cannot be concealed from His Highness for long." Seleucus knew Francis' ability, "We need your help, Mr. Holmes. We hope you can cover His Highness's eyes and ears until we deal with that The culprit."

The author has something to say: I will sleep for a while, there will be departmental activities in the afternoon, the night shift before tomorrow, and the next article will not be fixed tomorrow, so don't wait for me.