Chapter 851: Margaret of Anjou
"Mr. Watson, I never imagined that cider could taste like this."
Lifting his glass, Mr. Bernhardt took a sip of the liquid, then narrowed his eyes with an expression of enjoyment.
"Excellent, truly excellent. Mr. Watson, may I ask which winery produced this fruit wine? I must pay them a visit."
"I cannot say, but I guarantee that this bottle of wine is just as delicious as that cider."
Sherlock was satisfied with this result.
"Send this bottle to the Princess. Just say it was a gift from a friend, a red wine brewed at a winery in the New World. Compared to the output of the White River Valley Vineyards, this bottle should be more appropriate as a gift."
He reached into his pocket to rummage and pulled out two more bottles.
"Three bottles should be enough."
"You have helped me once again, Mr. Watson. You must come to my manor for dinner tonight," Mr. Bernhardt said. He then stood up, instructed the servants to take the bottles, and left the dining room once more.
This time, Mr. Bernhardt was gone for a full forty minutes. During this interval, lunch ended, and Sherlock sat at the table holding a teacup while reading today's newspaper. Although his spoken Carsonrick was terrible, his literacy allowed him to identify the text in the newspaper without any obstacles.
The front-page headline of the local paper was the Princess's visit to Huntington City. The following pages detailed the financial reforms announced by the City Hall, which reportedly aimed to cut civil servant quotas and replace them with temporary dispatch workers. The third page contained news about the local winter horse racing competition. As for the advertising section, much like the newspapers in the North, there were strange inventions seeking investment, such as "human body stretchers" and "steam-powered retractable clothes hangers," or newly opened local shops soliciting business.
Sherlock even saw his fellow detectives publishing advertisements in the paper, promising very low fees. Outsiders had very little fondness for those who broke the "rules"; malicious price-cutting only made business difficult for everyone.
"However, the detectives in Huntington seem to be doing quite well if they can afford such large spaces for advertisements."
Just as Sherlock was copying the address of the "York Little Bee Pastry Shop" into his notebook, thinking of bringing some Southern pastries for Dorothy and Luvia, Mr. Bernhardt finally returned. Surprisingly, he still wore a worried expression—even more so than before.
A servant pulled out a chair for the Viscount. After sitting down, Mr. Bernhardt clasped his hands together and asked hesitantly—while Sherlock was considering whether to get a pastry for his cat
"Mr. Watson, if the Princess wishes to see you, would you mind meeting Her Highness Margaret?"
"Hmm?"
Sherlock looked up from his notebook in surprise.
"The Princess wants to see me?"
Realizing his voice was a bit too loud, he lowered it and pointed to himself.
"Apologies, Mr. Bernhardt, but I cannot be seen by the Princess in a place like this. As you know, I will certainly encounter the Princess in the social circles of Tobesk; I cannot let her see my face in advance. Even though I am wearing some peculiar cosmetics now and it's unlikely she would recognize me, I cannot take the risk."
"What if we went a step further and temporarily altered your appearance? To make you look even more different."
Mr. Bernhardt looked very apologetic.
"I know I should not force you to help, but the Princess just tasted one of those three bottles of red wine and, like me, praised your wine highly. Then, she expressed a desire to meet you. I am truly sorry, but if you really can't—"
"Wait a moment," Sherlock said, frowning.
【Are you going to see her?】
A whisper murmured in his ear. Resisting the urge to nod, Sherlock spoke in his mind
"If I can further alter my appearance on top of the Witch's Eyeshadow and get familiar with the Princess in advance, it should be helpful for my plans in Tobesk."
Thinking about it carefully, this was a rare opportunity. With Mr. Bernhardt's introduction, the Princess's guard would certainly be lower than if she were facing a foreign knight. Taking this chance, Sherlock would have the opportunity to test her personality and temperament.
"But is my luck really this good? The choice provided by that Golden Rabbit Leg was simply too valuable. Just how many rabbits am I going to dream about tonight?"
While worrying about the quality of his sleep, he remembered one more thing to ask.
"Mr. Bernhardt, do you know if the Anjou Royal Family also has Ring-casters?"
The middle-aged vampire looked somewhat surprised, but not entirely.
"Of course I know. Wait, do you mean the current Ring-caster of the Anjou family is her? I thought it was... a correspondence student of Cercex? Rest assured, I will not tell anyone."
"If the other party is a Ring-caster, is it possible that your disguise methods could be seen through by her?"
Mr. Bernhardt immediately shook his head.
"Don't worry, this is a unique illusion of the vampire race, a superposition of racial talent and occult arts. I didn't use it in Midhillburg because once such a talent is discovered by a high-ring caster of the region, my identity would be immediately revealed. But I bet Her Highness Margaret is absolutely not a high-ring caster, so you needn't worry. I am quite confident in my racial talent."
Sherlock nodded, hesitated for a moment, and put away his notebook.
"Very well. Let us go meet the Princess."
"Mr. Watson, thank you for your help. I am truly sorry about this. But please be assured, Her Highness Margaret is a very easy person to get along with and does not have many of the bad habits of the nobility."
As he spoke, he swiped his hand across Sherlock's face. When Sherlock checked the mirror again, he found that his appearance had changed slightly. It looked no different from before, but upon careful recollection, it seemed to be a different face entirely.
On the third floor of the White King Club, rooms were reserved for high-level members. The Princess, who was preparing to take a steam airship from here to Tobesk, was waiting in her room to receive guests.
Mr. Bernhardt spoke with the guards stationed outside in the hallway. Then, a guard knocked on the door and informed the maid who opened it of the visitors' identities. Soon, Sherlock and Armand Bernhardt were granted entry. As Sherlock stepped into the room, the Witch Detection Badge hanging on his chest finally began to heat up.
This meant that the Princess who had taken the "Difference Engine" materials from Sherlock's hands in Midhillburg was indeed Margaret of Anjou.
The high-end members' lounge was more luxurious than a high-end hotel room; the red carpet on the floor appeared to be pure wool. Only half of the window's curtains were drawn open, and Margaret of Anjou sat in a single-seater sofa with her back to that window.
She looked to be around the same age as Sherlock's body, possessing the signature pale gold hair of the Anjou Royal Family. Her eyes were a faded light blue, which, in Sherlock's view, were not as deep or spirited as Dr. Schneider's blue eyes.
Since it was just daily life, she wore no crown, but her long dress still made her look elegant and noble. Her eyes were narrow, and her eyebrows were even more beautiful than the color of her hair. Her pale gold hair was tied together, draping over her right shoulder. What impressed Sherlock most, however, was her height.
Roughly estimated, she was only slightly shorter than Sherlock. The Outsider had only seen such height in truly Great Witches.
She was not as youthful and vibrant as seventeen-year-old Iluna, not as gentle and intellectual as the recently rising Dorothy, and not as reserved yet passionate as the fellow princess Lacia. Her aura fit the standard definition of a "Princess"—the kind of lady who, with one glance, would make one associate her person with the word "Princess."
There was a faint scent of incense in the room. When Sherlock and Mr. Bernhardt entered, the Princess was holding a book in Carsonrick titled *The Pearl of the North: The History of Tobesk*. On the coffee table, besides porcelain teacups and some file folders, there were three bottles of red wine and a glass goblet.
The maid led the two gentlemen to the sofa. After receiving permission, the two sat down on the long sofa. Although it was a long sofa, they both chose to sit far away from the Princess, with Mr. Bernhardt ultimately being the one closer to her.
"Viscount Bernhardt, is this the winery owner you mentioned?"
The question was asked in Carsonrick; the grammar was very cumbersome, but the tone was very cultured. Margaret of Anjou's eyes appraised Sherlock, and even though Sherlock had changed his appearance, thanks to the Blessing of Ten Thousand Souls, his extremely approachable aura immediately earned him a bit of goodwill from the foreign princess.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Armand Bernhardt answered respectfully, clutching his hat, and introduced
"This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He operates his own winery in the New World. He is originally from Delarion and has traveled to many places."
He didn't use "John Watson" because Sherlock used the name Watson as his alias when adventuring as a Ring-caster; it was best not to associate it with the world of ordinary people. "Sherlock Holmes" was the name Sherlock had signed when joining MI6 to make it easier to receive his salary; there was no possibility of it leaking, and even if it did, it wouldn't be easily linked.
"Hello."
The young princess nodded slightly with a smile. Sherlock replied
"Good afternoon, Your Highness. It is an honor to be summoned. I wonder if you are satisfied with the red wine I provided?"
He intentionally used his clumsy Carsonrick; this was a small trick to increase favorability.
Margaret of Anjou looked at Sherlock with an elegant smile while sitting in her single sofa, and Sherlock bowed slightly while holding his hat. This was the first meeting between the Outsider and the Southern Princess, and in Sherlock's view, the princesses of this world were nothing like those in fairy tales.
They were all so independent, intelligent, and shrewd. Most of them did not need their own princes. Whether it was Lacia, who possessed an inexplicable ambition for power, or Margaret of Anjou, who attempted to win over a trump card spy, they were all more outstanding than the princes in the stories.