In the afternoon, the sun was shining brightly.
Louise had shut herself up in her room, waiting anxiously for Mary's arrival. From ti to ti she walked over to the window and gazed toward the courtyard. Her beautiful amber eyes were filled with barely concealed anticipation.
At last, a familiar black carriage bearing the crest of the Morstan family slowly entered her field of vision.
Almost without thinking, she straightened her skirt and checked in the mirror to make sure she looked perfect. Then she hurried out of the room and ran downstairs to the drawing room.
When Mary, guided by a servant, stepped into the tall, luxuriously decorated reception room, the first thing that caught her eye was a young girl sitting gracefully on the sofa, her delight almost impossible to hide.
"Good afternoon, Sister Mary… no, Miss Mary."
Louise rose to her feet, a bright smile on her face, and lifted her skirt in greeting.
"Good afternoon, Your Highness."
Mary smiled back. Today again she wore that sa simple yet elegant black and white dress.
The two sat down on the sofa. A maid quickly ca over with fragrant black tea and a refined selection of cakes and light snacks.
"I honestly didn't think you would really co," Louise said quietly, teacup in hand.
"To tell the truth, I didn't expect it either," Mary replied with a faint smile. "When I read the newspaper this morning, I thought I'd have to postpone this afternoon's tea."
She paused for a mont, then added, "It seems Her Majesty is still very fond of you."
"Mother simply refuses to let go out," Louise blinked. "She said she didn't want brooding over things too much."
The two girls exchanged a smile. A relaxed and comfortable atmosphere gently settled around them.
After a short stretch of small talk—fashion, the weather, and all the usual topics—Louise finally found herself unable to hold back her excitent any longer. She seed just on the verge of confessing a secret.
"Mary, there's sothing I want to tell you," she whispered, leaning forward. "You absolutely mustn't tell anyone. If you do, I'm finished."
"Hm?"
Mary was intrigued by Louise's mysterious attitude.
"Please don't worry, Your Highness."
"I…" Louise stopped, glanced around, and after confirming that no one else was nearby, continued in a low voice, "Actually, I saw him last night."
"Him?"
Mary was slightly taken aback.
"It was… Moriarty!"
Louise lowered her voice and pronounced the na one word at a ti. Her amber eyes shone with excitent.
The instant she finished speaking, the hand with which Mary held her teacup paused—so slightly that it was almost imperceptible. For a heartbeat, the smile vanished from her face, but it quickly returned.
Yet deep in the blue of her eyes, a quiet wariness and keen alertness began to awaken.
"You saw him?" Mary set down her teacup and, in a calm tone, asked, "When?"
"Last night!" Louise said, unable to hide her agitation. "When the clock struck midnight, he appeared in my room just like a ghost, exactly as described in the newspaper!"
She went on to describe in vivid detail that dream like encounter from the previous night—from the thief's sudden appearance to his enigmatic attire. Every tiny detail was brought back to life on her lips.
Mary listened in silence, only nodding from ti to ti, yet the vigilance in her gaze grew stronger and stronger.
She had originally thought that after sneaking into Buckingham Palace the previous night, Moriarty had rely stolen a snuff box—the symbol of royal identity—and that was all. A harmless provocation aid at the powerful and the wealthy.
But to her surprise, this audacious thief had actually set his sights on a princess.
Whatever his motive might be, that single fact alone was more than enough for Mary to feel a fierce anger and hostility toward him.
"He didn't harm you in any way, did he?" Mary asked, her concern genuine.
"No," Louise shook her head. "He only took my music box. But he promised he'd return it."
Her voice carried an unquestioning trust in Russell.
"And it seems I was his very first target," Louise added, her expression swelling with pride like a peacock displaying its feathers. "He even sent notices beforehand."
"Notices?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "May I see them?"
"Of course."
Louise nodded and stood up. "Co with ."
She led Mary to her own room, then carefully took out two notices and a card, and handed them to her.
"Look, Sister Mary."
Mary reached out and took them. Her eyes imdiately caught on the familiar handwriting.
It was indeed Moriarty's writing, but this was the first she had ever heard of him sending letters in advance to announce his cris.
"Have you told Her Majesty?"
"No." Louise shook her head. "But Mother found the second letter. She was absolutely furious."
"I can understand that," Mary said. "In any case, I'm glad you're safe."
"Mr. Moriarty isn't that sort of person," Louise said. "By the way, didn't you write in your letter that you'd t him as well?"
"Yes…" Mary nodded, not attempting to deny it. "He's an unbearably conceited, arrogant, and unpleasant man."
She spoke with blunt frankness, making no effort to hide her disgust.
"He broke into my room, stole my lipstick, and left behind so extrely distasteful comnts."
"What? He even stole your lipstick?"
Louise's eyes flew wide open, as though she had just heard sothing unbelievable.
"Who knows what goes on in his head," Mary said, pursing her lips.
The two girls traded stories of their encounters with the legendary thief, chatting back and forth until the atmosphere gradually softened and lightened again.
"Oh, that reminds ," Louise said, as if suddenly recalling sothing. "He may have taken my music box, but he also told two stories."
"Stories?"
"Yes." Louise nodded and, with great interest, began to recount the tale of The Little Prince and the rose.
Mary listened quietly until she finished, then offered a noncommittal comnt.
"That sounds like a lovely fairy tale."
"And there's one more!"
Louise moved on to the second story.
"He said, 'Once upon a ti, there was a man who saved up 300 silver coins. He was very happy, but he was also afraid they might be stolen.'
"So he found a place to bury the silver, and even put up a sign there."
Her clear, bell like voice echoed through the magnificent reception room. As she listened, Mary frowned, and for an instant she felt as if her heart had stopped.
"What was written on the sign?"
"'There's a treasure here."
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