[Zongyingmi] She is a princess and not sick

"I've already contacted Seth. They don't want to confront you head-on. We made an appointment, and on my territory, they want to reach a settlement with Alexander." Augustus poured a glass of red wine, and he invited Francis to his house .

Francis took the red wine and took a sip: "The St. Bartholomew massacre plan. What do you think?"

"You really like copying history." Augustus raised his eyebrows.

"Only one thing. Otherwise we'll have a wedding." Francis raised his glass to Augustus, "It's never a good thing to mix a murder with a wedding. Look at Queen Margot and Henry, marriage is destined to be a tragedy from the very beginning." .”

"The Medici family was brilliant for a while." Augustus said, "It's a pity that the family has no descendants."

"Many people have become history, but more people have been submerged in history." Francis frowned, "Sometimes, I also wonder how long the British royal family will last."

"I don't think it will be possible in your lifetime."

Francis gave him a funny look: "Do you think I'm Sargon? I can't make the whole country have only one mouth."

"Sometimes I miss the Cold War period." Augustus shook his glass, "Before the [-]s, it was the most glorious time for the Mafia."

"I don't think you will like that period that made the mafia darker. It goes against your original intention." Francis finished his glass of red wine, "After the plan succeeds, Seth's subsequent purge will depend on you."

Augustus put down his wine glass and looked at the woman who created an empire, frowning: "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Are you referring to the massacre of St. Bartholomew? Or after? If it was before, my answer is yes." Francis looked at Augustus with a half-smile, "If it was after, I Now thinking about pulling out my gun and stuffing it in your mouth."

"Relax, Your Highness." Augustus shrugged. He looked at this calm, smart and crazy woman, "I will fully cooperate with you."

He was just a little pity, he almost guessed what was going to happen next, and he sincerely hoped that she would change her mind.

But Windsor's stubborn genes beat all.

"The fewer people who know about this matter, the better." Francis raised his eyebrows. "Our transaction is based on what we need. You don't have to care about me."

Augustus shook his head, his blue eyes looked at the same blue eyes that Francis hadn't disguised: "No. In fact, we are very similar. I just feel sorry for myself."

"So now you're Narcissus again. Wonderful." Francis curled her lips, she looked at him jokingly, her black hair touched the pomade and combed it into an old-fashioned back, "You know that if you use too much pomade, you will be bald of."

Augustus rolled his eyes: "Dear Beet, I'm not from England, I don't have the hair loss gene."

"Hair loss is the world's greatest malice against England." Francis glanced at the watch in her hand, and she said it was time to leave, "See you in three days, Augustus."

"See you in three days, Alexander."

Francis walked out of Augustus' house, and Attalus came to pick her up in his car.

Another person in the car was Hannibal, the doctor who didn't come to her birthday.

"Good day, doctor. You look in good spirits, which reassures me." Francis looked at Hannibal with a smile, "You are as punctual as a German."

"Good day, princess. I heard that you suddenly changed your location and came here in a hurry. You look good." Hannibal said.

"Thanks to Dior's lipstick." Francis looked a little careless, and she let her back rest comfortably on the back of the chair. "Do people feel self-loathing?"

"Who did you meet just now?" Hannibal asked.

"The male version of myself." Francis licked his lips and frowned. "It's unbelievably similar. He seems to have more emotions than me."

"Maybe that's what you're most lacking right now. I wanted him to save you." Hannibal said sharply.

"If he can't save me, you'd better give up. Hannibal." Francis frowned and didn't want to mention this topic, but she forgot that she was talking to a psychiatrist.

"It's not a good behavior to escape, Your Highness?" Hannibal said, "I think you are still influenced by that Doctor Ford."

Francis turned her head and glanced at Hannibal, meeting those maroon eyes, she asked flatly, "Really?"

Hannibal couldn't help frowning, he felt that Francis's mood was a bit problematic, and she showed indifference to him, which was not a good sign.

"Sis, you should have another psychotherapy." Hannibal's eyes fell on her extremely beautiful blonde hair, and he suggested, "At least stabilize your emotions."

Francis suppressed the tyrannical emotions in her heart and acted as usual. She shook her head gently: "Wait until this is over."

Hannibal didn't press too hard, he asked, "What do you need most now, my dear princess."

Francis was glad that Hannibal didn't continue pestering her. She turned her head to face the therapist. The Roman sun shone through the car window on her white, almost transparent face. Dior's red lipstick made her lips look stained. Seeing the blood, she parted her red lips slightly: "Blood, I need the blood of my enemy."

Hannibal took Francis' hand and kissed it politely.

"As you wish. My princess."

Three days passed quickly.

Francis put on the dark green owl dress that symbolized Alexander, and she wore a certain black gauze hat, with black lace hanging down to cover most of her face.

She straightened the skirt in front of the mirror, and looked up to see Hannibal appearing in the mirror holding a small gift box.

She turned around and showed a smile. She looked at the doctor who was coming. He slowly opened the gift box in his hand to reveal a golden rose brooch, shining charmingly under the light.

"Oh, it's beautiful."

"Yes, princess. It's a gift." Hannibal took out a brooch and pinned it to her dress. "I wish you the best of luck."

"You too." Francis reached out to straighten Hannibal's unruffled neckline, "See you, dear doctor."

Francis said goodbye to Hannibal, and went out to a long-awaited rendezvous with her lieutenants Seleucus and Attalus.

"The white-haired and black-haired Clitus are on standby." Seleucus reported the arrangement of the operation. "No one from Seth will get out alive. Our people have also arranged the place."

"Very good." Francis nodded, "Have you discussed with Augustus?"

"Yes, while we meet, Mr. Genovese will be dealing with Seth's other strongholds."

"I hope this godfather won't let me down." Francis said lightly, turning her head to look at the scenery outside the window.

The phone in her pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out. It was Moriarty texting.

"Sherlock reaches Rome - JM"

Francis frowned and replied to Moriarty, who sent another text.

"Don't let me down, dear princess - JM"

Francis narrowed his eyes, hooked his lips slightly, and did not reply.

Attalus drove the car a block away from their destination, and they walked across, entering through the back door.

After Francis got out of the car, he said to Seleucus, "You and Attalus go there first, and I will buy a pack of longevity ②"

"Shall I go with you?" Attalus stepped forward and asked.

"No, Attalus. I'll be over in a moment." Francis said lightly.

"Yes, Your Highness. Please pay attention to your safety." Attalus said, Seleucus's arm bent his neck.

"Hey, Attalos, Your Highness is not a child anymore. Don't show such a worried parental expression."

Attalus gave Seleucus a blank look and didn't speak, but just watched Francis' leaving back with his eyes.

Francis found a convenience store and bought a pack of Shoubainian.

The owner of the store looked at Francis's attire and thought she had come to Italy for a funeral, and kindly reminded her not to smoke on the street.

Francis nodded with a smile and walked out of the convenience store. Instead of following the same path to find Attalus and Seleucus, she took another narrow path.

She was walking in the ancient city of Rome and turned into an alley, with the birthday cigarettes she just bought between her fingers, she took out her lighter and lit the cigarettes.

She stopped, pursed her red lips slightly, and slowly exhaled the cloud, with the intoxicating aroma of tobacco lingering in the air, and said, "Has anyone ever said that you are a terrible stalker, Sherlock?"

She turned around against the light and saw that tall figure standing at the entrance of the alley, she couldn't see his face clearly, his back was the sunshine of Rome, some witty strands fell on the curly hair beside his ear, It looks like it has been coated with a red film.

"You don't have to do that, Francis." Sherlock's voice sounded like the violin he had.

Francis's blue eyes became very deep, she pursed her red lips and smiled softly: "I have to do this. Sherlock. You won't understand."

"I understand. Your mother's death broke your heart and made it difficult for you to sleep." Sherlock walked into the alley with long legs, his face faded and slowly revealed a sharp-edged outline.

Francis shook her head, her blue eyes became moist: "No, no one in this world understands. I didn't just lose my mother, I went to the whole world because of that damn Set and their stupid plan. "

At the end she raised her voice, the smell of Shoubainian burned between her fingers, and hot tears rolled down from the corners of her eyes.

Sherlock pursed his lips and approached her. He reached out to hold Francis' hand. Her hand was cold. He frowned and wiped away her tears: "Mycroft is very worried about you. He likes you more than you can imagine. All this It’s okay, we become normal people sometimes too.”

Francis buried his face in Sherlock's chest and choked out, "Oh, Sherlock, you're a good man, better than all of them. I can't let him lose you too."

"Wha..."

Before Sherlock could react, he heard the sound of electric sparks, and he felt the pain of being pricked by needles in his waist, and the pain and numbness flowed all the way up the lumbar spine to Faith.

He fell down limply and supported him with both hands. He felt Francis' cold face mixed with hot tears leave a kiss on his cheek, and she whispered, "I can't let him lose you too, Sherlock, stop following me."

"Cletus, send someone to take good care of him. Don't let anyone hurt him."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Sherlock's consciousness slowly lost, he watched the dark green skirt slowly leave his sight, with unwavering steps.

The last syllable escaped his throat before he passed out.

"No..."

The author has something to say: I'm sorry, let Juan Fu get an electric shock, and the author ran away with the lid on the pot.

① Sargon: Generally considered to be the world's first killer.

②Shoubainian: It is a kind of flue-cured tobacco manufactured by Galleher Co., Ltd. in the United Kingdom. The golden Russian double-headed eagle national emblem is printed on the cigarette cover. It is a regular tobacco used by the British royal family.It is also a women's cigarette.