[Zongyingmi] She is a princess and not sick

"Party?" Watson took Francis's invitation and opened it to see that it was a housewarming party invitation.

"Yes, Dr. Watson. My grandmother said it was a courtesy. I know we have known each other for a short time, and we are not very close. But as neighbors, I sincerely invite you and Sherlock to the party." Francis said with a smile, she looked Looking at Sherlock, he saw him frowning as expected, "Although I don't think Sherlock will come, but you can, Dr. Watson. My brother Henry is also a soldier in Afghanistan. I think you must have a common language .”

"John, you should prepare a suit. Take my card and go to the mall to choose one." Sherlock glanced at the excited Watson, and silently handed over a card.

"And hat and tie. If you wear uniform, it's too serious, Dr. Watson," Francis reminded.

Sherlock successfully sent Watson out, his eyes looked up and down Francis with black tea, he frowned and felt a slight change in Francis's body, which hadn't happened before the last trip.

He saw the weariness on Frances' young face, she was even a pound lighter than the last time they met.

"You've changed, Francis."

"Thank you for the reminder. I can feel it too." Francis took a sip of black tea lightly.

"I think you need coffee instead of tea," Sherlock said, looking at Francis with his hands folded.

"Thank you, I haven't slept well recently and often have nightmares. If you need coffee, I can pour it in the kitchen for you," Francis said.

"Coffee, two pieces of sugar." Sherlock paused and said thank you.

Francis got up and went to the kitchen. Sherlock watched her back for a while, quickly took out a cube of sugar from his pocket, put it into Francis's black tea, stirred it quickly with a spoon, and sat there waiting for Francis to bring the coffee.

"Thank you."

Francis sat back in her original position, and she took a sip of black tea and frowned: "Why do I think they are too sweet when I taste them recently?"

She looked up and felt dizzy, and there were two double images of Sherlock in her vision, oh, there are three now, she felt that her hand had no strength, and she couldn't hold the teacup in her hand at all.

It slipped from her limp hands and onto the carpet, splashing warm black tea onto her ankles.

This is her last perception.

Frances's body went limp, like a doll with broken strings, and Sherlock deftly held her head to keep her from hitting the floor, and then Mycroft tore down the floor of his house to vent his anger.

Oh, Mrs. Hudson's crying was so loud.

Sherlock's phone rang crazily, with an attitude of not giving up.

He took a look at the call from Mycroft, put it directly in the living room, picked Francis up and went to the bedroom.

He put Francis on the bed, sat on the edge of the bed and called out, "Francis, Francis, don't be afraid, you are safe now."

Anthea felt bad this morning.

A woman's sixth sense is always damn accurate, as hell.

After sending a file to watch the bear drug the princess, the Boss made her look so gloomy that she couldn't even breathe.

It was horrible, it was insane.

She still can't accept it until now, jumping from the fairy tale plot of the devil and the princess to the bloody family ethics drama of two brothers and a woman.

What a hell.

Bear boy let go of that princess and let your brother come.

Anthea was already singing in her heart, but she was still playing with her mobile phone calmly.

It's just that the speed of this car is a little faster.

Excuse me, driver, do you regard Jaguar as F1?

When McCoff arrived at 221B, he abandoned his gentlemanly habit of knocking on the door, performed the unlocking in front of his subordinates, and went straight to Sherlock's bedroom.

"Sherlock."

"Keep your voice down, Mycroft. If I were you, I would keep your voice down. She's sleeping." Sherlock appeared at the door of his room, looking at his brother mockingly, "Ten seven minutes and thirty-four seconds. Enough Fast."

Mycroft looked at his younger brother seriously and seriously: "Sherlock, what have you done?"

"Deep hypnosis." Sherlock said bluntly, "I never thought that you gave her the memory palace."

Mycroft passed Sherlock, walked quickly to Francis, and lowered his voice at the same time: "You drugged her, I don't remember that I taught you that."

Francis was lying on the bed, frowning, his body curled up in a defensive posture, and he was still clutching the quilt uneasily.

Seeing the frown, Mycroft reached out and patted Francis on the back reassuringly.

Sherlock couldn't even remember whether Mycroft had such a tender side when he was a child.

In this dimly lit room, the British government was sitting by the bed. Although he couldn't see his expression clearly, he patted the princess's back gently and rhythmically with unprecedented gentle movements.

"Sherlock, what do you want to say?" Mycroft asked the bear's younger brother while comforting the princess, "Deep hypnosis has benefited you a lot, huh?"

"Frances' mental state is terrible. Her physical state isn't great either," Sherlock said quickly, wondering what had made her the way she was in just a week.

"During deep hypnosis, she hid some of the most important things in the memory palace." Sherlock stood at the door against the light, and Mycroft also couldn't see his expression clearly, "Diana, and you (Diana and you) "

"Mum can't replace Diana. But you can. You know it."

Sherlock's eyes flickered in the darkness, and he was a little excited.

Finally found his key in his brother.

In an ordinary English girl who is golden and bright and still smart.

"By the way, she's been hiding her emotions deeper recently, for protection. So, she may not be the same to you as before."

"Enough, that'senough. (Enough, enough.)" Mycroft picked Francis up from the bed, even though he was an inactive person, it was still possible to lift a slender lady, he Looking at the younger brother, he said word by word, "She needs a good rest."

Sherlock moved out of the way, watching Mycroft walking up the stairs with a person in his arms, thinking that this damn fat man must have gone to the gym again.

Seeing the Boss walking down with the princess in his arms, Anthea quickly opened the door for him after thinking about the bloody plot.

Before going out, Mycroft said to Sherlock: "Go and check on Caitlin Ford. It's His Royal Highness's psychiatrist."

The only consulting detective in the world curled his lips at the closed door, clicked his tongue, and muttered: "I've been busy recently, too."

"Your big brother really cares about her, the Princess (Your big brother really cares about her, the Princess.)" A man in a suit and leather shoes smiled maliciously, and lit a cigarette for the lady beside him.

The flames lit up the face of the lady, apparently Caitlin Ford, Francis' psychiatrist, who was to be investigated by the big detective.

She took a puff of cigarette lightly, and squinted at her companion with eyes very similar to Mycroft Sherlock: "I want to see what McCoff can do for her, Jin. Don't you look forward to it? "

"Yes. Iwill. So tell me, honey, did you do that?" Moriarty's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Yeah." Kaitlyn Ford's mouth raised a strange arc, "Maybe Mycroft can save her, or just watch her die."

"I can't wait for the end." Moriarty shook his head. "It's my turn to play. I'm so sorry you're not here, dear."

The author has something to say: What kind of madness does Mo Niang do by herself? !