[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

After attending classes for three days in a row, Isabella lay on the bed unrequitedly. Today is a rest day, and she is allowed to spend her time freely.For the past three days, her schedule has been packed. In addition to economics courses, she has to take flower art classes twice a week. According to His Royal Highness, this can cultivate her sentiments and save her from running around to stir up trouble.

Isabella struggled for a minute, and finally reason prevailed. She reluctantly picked up the mobile phone and dialed the number of the Great Demon King. Her father was right, and she should thank Mr. Holmes in person.

The phone rang for three seconds, and a man's calm voice came from the receiver: "Hello?"

"Good morning, Mr. Holmes." Isabella licked her lips, and she felt a kind of deliberate flattery, "Are you busy?"

The person on the other side of the phone seemed to be taken aback for a moment, and then the indifferent voice sounded: "I assume you didn't call to say hello?"

Isabella smiled awkwardly, stopped circling around, and said straight to the point: "I would like to thank you in person for that kidnapping case. If you are free, can I go to your office? Or if you come to Buckingham Palace Yes, we can have afternoon tea together, uh, you know, the cakes baked by the royal pastry chef are very delicious..."

"At [-]:[-] p.m.," just when Isabella was giving up hope, the man suddenly said, his tone was still flat, "Buckingham Palace. I'll be here on time."

I always felt that he changed his mind after hearing the last sentence, but anyway, he agreed, and Isabella smiled and replied: "Of course, I will wait for you then."

Isabella sits up from the bed slowly, and there is a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. This is her first work in flower art class. It is filled with pink tulips, lilies and other unknown warm colors. flower.The fragrance of the flowers is overwhelming, which helps to improve her bad problem of insomnia.

Staying in bed is not a good habit.Isabella had a brief lunch and wore a short rabbit down jacket. She nestled into the sofa by the fireplace with a copy of "Capitalism and Freedom" in her hand, waiting for the little black car of Mycroft Holmes to park. Near Buckingham Palace, Isabella was two pages short of finishing the book.

The maid, Ariel, dutifully reminded Isabella that the guests were coming, and Isabella looked up at the clock. It was 10:[-] in the afternoon, [-] minutes earlier than the time mentioned by Mycroft on the phone.

"Oh, please come in quickly." Isabella put the books on the table casually, stood up gracefully, and whispered to the maid to bring the afternoon tea.

Mycroft is still wearing a three-piece suit. This time his tie is dark blue. With his pure black suit, he exudes a dignified and serious aura. Unlike before, he holds a A long-handled black umbrella with thick cloth and a comfortable wooden handle. Holding the whole umbrella in his hand is like a low-key long sword.

No, this is not an illusion.Isabella keenly noticed that when the man sat down, he hung the umbrella casually on the armrest. The slight vibration of the umbrella at that moment revealed a small problem inside the umbrella rib that was not easy to notice-the density of the umbrella core was different.She guessed that there might be a Western sword hidden inside.

"I'm glad you accepted my invitation in spite of your busy schedule." Isabella said with a smile, "Thank you very much for your continued care."

Mycroft smiled reservedly, and said, "This is my duty." He looked casually at the layout of the living room, and finally, seemingly unintentionally, he mentioned, "Friedman's book? You plan to take an economics exam next year. Are you majoring in it?"

Isabella picked up "Capitalism and Freedom" on the table and said, "Yes, but I haven't thought about which school I'm going to."

Mycroft moved his fingers and said, "If you need, I can give you some advice."

"Okay, I'll see you when I need it."

The official greetings were a bit boring, but fortunately, the afternoon tea cakes were delivered in time. The pure English black tea was served with strong milk. The aroma of tea and milk was subtly blended together. On the milk tea, Isabella recommended McCoff to have a pastry chef's specialty-chocolate muffins.

At the beginning, Mycroft was very restrained. His good upbringing allowed him to only take a small piece. After tasting the muffins as soft as clouds and the slightly bitter and mellow chocolate sauce, the strict Circus leader couldn't help but I started with chocolate muffins once.

All of this was seen by Isabella, and it seemed that Mr. MI6 Chief, who had made everyone in the UK frightened, had a strong interest in sweets.She took small sips of hot milk tea. Today's strawberry bagels are made with fresh strawberries from the organic farm of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. The strawberries are sweet but not greasy, and have a pleasant milky aroma.

Maybe it was the delicious afternoon tea of ​​the royal family that made McCoff less aggressive. He was in a good mood and took out a copy of the document from the inner pocket of his suit and handed it to Isabella, saying: "The original report of the last operation has been filed. gone."

Isabella watched carefully. The report concealed the existence of Auston in the kidnapping case, and everything about the rose party was not mentioned.And even though so much information was deleted, the timing and details of the entire report were all stuck perfectly, and there was absolutely no flaw in it.

This must be an action report written by McCoff himself. Isabella was a little surprised. You must know that as long as one detail is changed, all the evidence will be revised, including surveillance, traces, and witness testimony.Isabella continued to read, followed by the confession of the kidnapper and his accomplice, the skydiving instructor.

"Same as I guessed." Isabella touched her chin proudly.

Mycroft wiped his hands slowly, and said with a smile, "No, there is one thing you guessed wrong."

"what?"

"The kidnapper and the coach...they are not friends, nor are they relatives," McCoff paused, then added with a half-smile, "They are a couple."

"A couple?! God, who are they? GAY? Are you serious?" Isabella's eyes widened. She couldn't connect the scruffy bearded kidnapper with the taciturn skydiving instructor on the plane. Together.

"Who would take a huge risk to help a friend plan a kidnapping case? What's more, his income is not low, so he can't afford to take the risk. This is of course—" Mycroft protracted the words, and said in a tone almost lamenting ,"Love."

"Love?"

"Caring is not advantage." Mycroft said calmly, "After Berdych became addicted to gambling, Bottas persuaded him to quit gambling many times, but failed. So disappointed, Bottas moved out of their home , until Berdych had huge debts that even Bottas couldn't pay. Oh, stupid feelings, because a hard-charging gambler gave up a good paying decent job, I think Mr. Mill is going to jail Li regrets that his partner is not worth so much for him."

"Maybe he won't regret it at all." Isabella shrugged, "It's always like that on TV."

"That's really good, at least they don't have to separate to harm others." Mycroft said sarcastically.

"... Well, I can be forgiven for guessing wrong this time," Isabella muttered dissatisfiedly, "Love, what a wonderful thing. I didn't consider this aspect, I thought the fatal allure of money was enough to make Bottas became an accomplice to the kidnappers."

"Profits may betray one's conscience, but love is better, and the latter needs no reason." Mycroft concluded.He just ate two chocolate muffins, a strawberry bagel and three maple cookies.He vaguely felt some pain in the back molars, so he reluctantly let go of his claws reaching for the dessert.The royal dessert chef is really top-notch, and these pastries are more delicious than any cake shop he has ever eaten.Maybe I can find some reasons to visit Buckingham Palace in the future?

Isabella is still struggling with the issue of "love". What she doesn't know is that the strict, indifferent and smooth politician sitting next to her is secretly trying to come to her place for food and drink.

The author has something to say:

Mycroft: Urgent, how can we poach the royal pastry chef away?