[Zongyingmi] She is a princess and not sick

In 221B Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson delivered afternoon tea to the two boys upstairs, and the latest news was playing on the TV.

"...The Princess of Wales has successfully woken up, but the Setter organization has caused mental trauma to Her Royal Highness, causing the princess to relapse into autism. This is another blow to the royal family..."

"Oh, poor princess, she is a good child." Mrs. Hudson sighed, "She has been troubled since she was born, suffered from autism when she was a child, lost her mother at the age of seven... oh, really Pitiful."

She carried afternoon tea and put it on the table: "Look at the mess here, Sherlock, you should tidy it up."

After she finished speaking, she hurried downstairs. Watson watched Mrs. Hudson's back going down the stairs, and turned her head to look at the newspaper she was reading: "How is Mycroft?"

"Busy." Sherlock didn't even take his eyes off the newspaper, "MI5, MI6, CIA, and Francis. He still has time to play the cello in her ward, and I don't think he's so busy."

"Cello? Mycroft." Watson raised his eyebrows, his eyes widened. "Seriously? Cello?"

"World class. But he hasn't played the cello in ten years," Sherlock said. "When we were kids, music was the only thing we did."

"Will Francis get better? Sherlock?" Watson was a little worried about the friend he hadn't seen for a long time. She had always been a very nice person.

for all.

"If Mycroft in this world can't save her, no one in this world can save her." Sherlock said quickly, he folded the newspaper, "Why is London so quiet? Boring."

Watson looked at Sherlock as if he was a drug addict. He was bored when he was free. He looked incredible: "We just solved the case of the magic dog."

"Yeah, the crime scene is the murder weapon again, which is great. But it's been 36 hours. Is the whole criminal world deflated?" Sherlock said irritably.

"Perhaps you can go to visit the doctor. Francis has been back in England for a month. Maybe we can visit the doctor and be friends." Watson said.

"Oh, John, you're such a good man." Sherlock raised his eyebrows without even looking at Watson, "Don't be stupid, Mycroft won't let you come within ten meters of Francis."

"Why?" Watson looked at Sherlock puzzled, and he spread his hands, "I don't have any idea about Francis."

"If you do, please stop now, John. Otherwise I'll have to fish you out of the Thames the next day." Sherlock took his phone and searched the online news to see if there was any murder.

The atmosphere in Windsor Castle has always been very warm.

The deep and beautiful melody of the cello came from Francis' room. She sat cross-legged on a chair, playing with a nine by nine Rubik's cube in her hand, and she was restoring it.

Today McCaufra is playing "Cello Concerto in E Minor" by the famous British cellist Jacqueline Dupre. Without the accompaniment of other chords, the interpretation has a different flavor.

When Francis listens to music, his expression will be particularly focused, and there will be some excitement in his blue eyes.

She quickly recovered the Rubik's Cube, and Mycroft's tune was quickly finished.

Mycroft put the cello in the box, sat opposite Francis, reached out to hold her hand, and looked at her closed self, no one could enter her world.

"Anything else to play? Eric."

Only Mycroft was aware of the information she occasionally released to the outside world.

That's why the royals pointlessly let McCaw into the house, and no one but McCoff can play with Francis for an hour.

If you play chess with her, you can be checked to death by her in less than 3 minutes.

Most of the time, she is in a daze, no one knows what she needs.

No one in such a large family can keep up with Francis' thinking.

Zara and William stood outside the door and watched Francis sitting cross-legged on a chair and playing chess with Mycroft. She frowned from time to time, but the speed of her hands did not slow down, but sometimes she needed to think.

"It's amazing isn't it?" Zara whispered to William. "Look, Siss has found a boyfriend who is her equivalent. I mean, she's a genius, who understands her world. "

"Siss is a simple person." William defended his sister.

"Actually, when she was hiding as a kid, you never found her." Zara swore she loved Francis, but seriously, did any of them really know Francis?

Even her brothers and her father didn't know Francis, or her world.

No one can do it, except her boyfriend who plays chess with her inside.

"Do you remember Siss saying that her first love was eight years old?" Zara recalled their conversation after they came back from the horse farm, and Francis joked that her first love was eight years old.

William glanced at Zara in surprise and shook his head in disbelief: "Impossible."

"Oh, dear William, nothing is impossible." Zara was very relieved that Francis had found her own happiness. "Look at them, being older is nothing, dear. At least he didn't leave Siss at this time." .How many people can do it, Will?"

"That's 14 years old." William was obviously still a little confused, "He's older than Peter."

"So what?" Zara rolled her eyes, pulled William away, and kept the sister-in-law away from that room, lest he get emotional and be heard by the people inside, "The point is, Sis likes it. "

Zara crossed her hands and looked at William with raised eyebrows: "In your eyes, no one is worthy of little Siss. Just like Peter thought Mike was not worthy of me at the beginning."

"From the looks, it is indeed so." William said with a yawn.

"Don't forget that you are also starting to lose your hair now." Zara glanced at William's increasingly prominent Mediterranean, and sneered, "You still have the right to criticize others. Your appearance is declining day by day."

"Oh, Zara, don't do that to me, and don't stare at my hair," William broke down.

It was afternoon when McCoff left Windsor, and MI6 still had some things to deal with.

Anthea arranged for McCoff to pick him up in Windsor.

"Boss, Mr. Seleucus wants to see you." Anthea said to Mycroft as soon as she got in the car.

Seleucus was Francis' subordinate and heir to the Alexander organization.

Mycroft nodded expressionlessly: "Arrange to meet at the Diogenes Club."

"Yes, I will arrange it now." Anthea immediately conveyed the order.

Mycroft went to the Diogenes Club, where he had a special room dedicated to him as a founder's benefit, and it was the only room in the entire club where he could speak.

Waiting in this room was a man, Alexander's successor - a handsome blond Russian man.

"Meet you again, Mr. Holmes." Seleucus shook hands with Mycroft in a decent suit, "Thank you for coming to see me, Mr. Holmes."

"Long time no see, Mr. Seleucus. I would also like to thank you for your information and for your help to my younger brother." Mycroft showed a half-smile expression.

"It's nothing, Mr. Holmes." Seleucus seemed very humble about this. "I'm also worried about her doing something stupid for your highness. Although the result is not satisfactory, at least she is still alive, which is still right for the Alexander organization." For me, that's enough."

Mycroft raised his eyebrows when he heard this, and he asked Seleucus to sit down and put his left leg on his right knee: "Alexander is still thriving in your hands, I think this is a gratifying thing .”

"Let me clarify one thing, Mr. Holmes." Seleucus smiled slowly, "Alexander will only have one Boss, and that is Your Highness. After she recovers, Alexander will return to her boss." hands."

Mycroft took a deep look at Seleucus, this dangerous Russian man, he squinted his eyes, and said the beautiful words he used to deal with politicians: "It's really admirable, how many people can give up the power they have? ?”

"Mr. Holmes, tell me why a man is willing to hand over his power and his loyalty to a woman? Holmes are very good at spying on people's hearts." Seleucus said with a smile. Don't shy away from his scrutiny.

Mycroft looked at the young leader, his eyes slowly sank, and there was still a smirk on his face: "You like her, Mr. Seleucus."

"Like does not describe my feelings. Maybe love is more appropriate." Seleucid's gray eyes looked at Mycroft, the rumored Iceman with an impeccable mask on his face, "but I am here Not here to show love, obviously His Highness cares more about Mr. Holmes. I don't think this will affect our cooperation."

"Cooperation?" Mycroft raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." Seleucus nodded, and he said, "Seth has been purged, and His Highness's previous arrangements have made Seth unable to stand up. There is an old Chinese saying that a centipede is dead but not stiff. The Italian government The officials were purged, and our people were replaced, just to ensure that the remnants of Seth's party members would pose a threat to His Highness. Especially in her current state."

McCoff had also considered this before. The MI6 staff only paid attention to the movements in Italy, and Francis also arranged many special agents to ensure her safety.

"I have a question, Mr. Holmes," said Seleucus, his gray eyes piercing like a hawk's. "Is there anyone other than Seth who killed Princess Diana?"

Mycroft narrowed his eyes calmly: "Why do you ask that?"

"Intuition." Seleucus's reasoning was not convincing.

McCoff shook his head: "No."

The author has something to say: the princess is so beautiful, no love rival is unscientific.

The next chapter is the return of the princess.

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