Sherlock woke as usual, put on his pajamas, and headed downstairs for breakfast.
But beside the dining table, he saw two familiar yet unfamiliar figures.
"Iver?"
Sherlock stopped halfway down the stairs and murmured.
Iver, who should have been sitting in a wheelchair pushed by Lily, was now sitting steadily on a stool. He looked to have completely recovered.
And Lily was no longer standing behind Iver, but sitting beside him.
Though they had been apart for only a week, Sherlock keenly sensed that the understanding between master and servant seemed to have deepened again.
"You look much healthier, Sherlock."
Hearing the voice, Iver turned around and greeted him with a smile. "Looks like you've gotten quite used to staying with Bishop Mathers."
It was still early, but Sherlock didn't look sleepy. His biological clock had probably adjusted somewhat.
It was also possible that his hypoglycemia had been treated. His previously sunken cheeks had visibly filled out somewhat, and his somewhat withered hair had regained its luster. Considering that, perhaps his earlier hypoglycemia had purely been caused by his unhealthy lifestyle.
"Indeed."
Sherlock nodded instead.
He supported himself against the stair railing, the corners of his mouth lifting. "At first, I was a little unaccustomed to it because Mr. Kent usually dragged me off to handle troublesome cases. Suddenly having nothing to do made my whole body feel uncomfortable.
"But once I got used to it, I gradually managed to calm down and read books and conduct research. I have to thank Ms. Mina. When I lived alone, I was often too lazy to eat, but she always reminded me in time. And now that things have gradually quieted down, I no longer have so much work driving me forward... Being able to eat three proper meals a day and