February 16.
At eight in the morning, Sherlock hurried to the Silver and Tin Palace.
When the great detective, who had been missing for several months, appeared again, he immediately drew everyone's attention. He had not even stepped onto the Silver and Tin Palace's stairs before the news had already reached the newspaper offices.
When he reached the Queen's study, he saw Iver lounging in Her Majesty the Queen's seat.
He had one leg crossed over the other, his whole body leaning back against the chair as he happily hummed a little opera tune.
"Well, look who it is."
Iver said with a beaming smile, "Long time no see, great detective."
"I knew you were the one who called me."
Sherlock said irritably, "What do you want with me, esteemed Minister Moriarty?"
"Nothing major. I just wanted to see whether you were dead. Judging by how things look now, everything went smoothly. That's wonderful."
The corners of Iver's mouth lifted into a sly smile.
My fists are getting harder.
Sherlock ground his teeth.
Still, he could hear the concern beneath the damn Fox's words, so he said nothing. He simply sat down elegantly and silently in the seat opposite.
When he had not seen Iver and Isabel during the Promotion Ritual, his heart had immediately sunk.
It was not because he was worried about himself.
With Sherlock's pride, even if he were trapped in the frail body of a child, he would never retreat in a place like that. He was mainly worried about Isabel... Though Her Majesty the Queen had grown considerably by now, a Promotion Ritual from Three to Four was simply too dangerous. If she died inside, she would most likely die in reality as well.
If anything happened to Her Majesty the Queen, Avalon would be