Sherlock Holmes

No one saw the person in the carriage, but everyone knew that it was Her Royal Highness the Saint.

The crowd naturally moved to both sides, trying to make way for the long street leading to the church. On such a holy festival, it was naturally impossible to let the steam armor of the security patrols make noise around them, so the monks of the Holy See They formed a long queue and stood on both sides of the street, setting up human walls of uniform colors for the carriages.

In fact, in the eyes of most citizens of the empire, the Day of Holy Love should be regarded as a festival for the saint alone, because today is her 20th birthday, a turning point for her to move towards another life, and a wave of goodbye to the past. At one point, it's like in the story of Cinderella, the protagonist is always the disgraced girl who lost her glass slipper. In contrast, His Royal Highness the Son seems to have become a supporting character who witnesses the transformation of the saint.

Finally, the carriage stopped in front of the Auckland Cathedral. The door slowly opened. The saint gently held the hand handed to her by the nun and stepped out of the carriage.

It was a dress that was whiter and dazzling than snow, or a wedding dress, or a sacred robe. The skirt at the back was dragging to the ground, but no snowflakes dared to stay on it. The saint's crown with carved crystal feathers seemed to have some kind of The magic power caused the whole body to sparkle with divine light. Although a thin layer of gauze hung down from the crown, waiting for His Highness the Holy Son to take it off personally, the breeze blew and the faint glimpse of the gauze lifted up could also be seen. You can feel the beautiful face under the light cover.

Due to their status and demeanor, the men did not dare to make too casual sounds and could only look at it from a distance with surprise and reverence. But the girls were different. They began to whisper excitedly and expressed that if one day they could do it too. Walking off that carriage so beautifully, even if you die, you will have no regrets.

Among the crowd, a girl dressed very conservatively was also following everyone and watching this scene from a distance.

"Your Highness the Saint is so beautiful," she murmured.

The girl's voice is very nice, but her appearance is unknown, because she is wearing a mask, like a patient who sneaked out from the hospital to attend the Day of Holy Love. She is wearing a less conspicuous winter coat to cover her face. Most of the figure also wears a cute, but very thick, plush hat on top of its head.

But those eyes that were only exposed, after being occasionally glanced by a person around them, aroused a moment of surprise:

How in the world can there be such beautiful eyes?

"Huh, what's so beautiful about it? It's just that she's dressed nicely." A little girl next to the girl muttered in displeasure. She was probably only sixteen or seventeen years old, but she had an aura that no one could look down upon. The arrogance of the upper eye: "If you have the ability, let her take off the veil and compete with you, Miss."

"Okay." The girl next to her smiled bitterly: "If you say something bad about Your Highness the Saint here, if the monks in the front row hear it, they will definitely arrest you and whip you!"

"I'm telling you the truth." The girl still looked unconvinced, but her voice was much lowered and honest: "Actually, this is nothing to see. Let's get down to business. The President of the London Medical Association heard that you want to Here we are, and I haven’t dared to sleep a wink for two days. If I don’t go, I can’t guarantee that his old arms and legs will collapse on the bed. Then you will have to work hard to save him.”

The girl sighed feebly, thinking that her maid was good at everything, but she was too nagging, so she reluctantly took one last look at the saint who was walking towards the steps of the church, and then was dragged out of the crowd.

There is a long staircase in front of the Auckland Cathedral. Her Royal Highness is walking slowly up. People on both sides lower their heads to show their most sincere respect. In fact, if the coronation ceremony had not started, they would all be bowing down at this moment. Just kneel down and worship.

"Oh my god, oh my god!! Ahhhhhh!!!"

Ms. Mary tried her best to suppress her voice. She randomly pinched Watson's two fingers with her left hand and pinched Mark's thigh with her right hand. They both grimaced in pain.

"Saint! Saint!"

As an old maid who has never even kissed, her longing for the saint can reach a level that a man cannot understand. She would rather deduct three days of salary and follow the security team to take a closer look.

Priest Thompson next to her was relatively quiet, but the sunflower pendant he was holding in his hand was trembling all the time, and he was reciting scriptures quickly. As one of the most pious people in London, , although there is no way to see the Pope in person, it is a great honor to see the Holy Son. Even if you can't see the Holy Son, meeting the Saint will not be a waste of your life.

He was really holding on with all his life, otherwise, he would have recited the "Gospel of the Holy Light" loudly and rushed to the steps to kowtow to the saint.

And just then.

Her Highness the Saint, who had been walking slowly, suddenly stopped.

She turned her head and looked in the direction of the White Thorn Security Company. Since the steps in front of the church were not too wide, the distance between them and the Saint was only a few meters away.

Mary almost screamed with excitement, the saint is looking at me, looking at me! And Priest Thompson's legs were trembling. He was the person appointed by the Holy Light. He seemed to feel the Holy Light shining on him! !

And under the thin curtain, a pair of eyes were looming, and the emotions could not be seen clearly.

"sorry."

A soft apology.

It came out softly from the mouth of the saint.

"."

"."

Time suddenly paused on the side of White Thorns.

"It doesn't matter." Sherlock hesitated and responded with a smile.

Her Royal Highness the Saint seemed to finally feel relieved. She turned her eyes away and walked steadily towards the church again, entered the bronze door, and prepared for the next ceremony.

Although he stopped for a moment, some people noticed it, but no one knew why, and soon no one cared about it.

Only the people from Bai Qiangwei Security Company looked at Sherlock with shocked, dull, and extremely complicated eyes, but they didn't ask anything. Maybe they didn't know how to ask, or didn't even dare to ask, but they just stared blankly anyway. With.

Watson on the side looked thoughtful: "Could it be that Her Highness the Saint is really Sherlock's landlord?"

Although the scene just now clearly verified this possibility, he already found it difficult to accept it, so he just murmured and glanced at the crowd subconsciously.

Suddenly, he froze.

Because among the crowd, he seemed to see an extremely broken figure, with half of his face hidden under a worn-out hat. The same tattered clothes had an empty cuff on one side.

But just for that moment, when Watson wanted to look for the old beggar again, he found that he had disappeared without a trace.

It was as if the visual residue of a certain night suddenly appeared at this moment.