The next day, at dawn, Russell woke up in bed.
His internal clock caused him to wake early instinctively, but once he realized his mind was clear and he had already submitted his vacation request, he couldn't fall back asleep. Well, if he couldn't sleep, then so be it.
Russell got out of bed, washed his face, and headed to the restaurant with familiar ease.
When he arrived, Charlotte was sitting in the same spot as yesterday.
This time, however, Mycroft was also there.
"Good morning, both of you."
Russell approached and greeted them. Mycroft turned around and gave him a slight smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Watson."
"Uh-huh."
That was Charlotte's response.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Mycroft asked.
"This was probably the most comfortable sleep I've had in my life." Russell smiled. "I'm really worried about whether I'll be able to adjust properly when I return to Baker Street. If that happens, insomnia might become a serious issue."
"If there's an opportunity in the future, I'd like to come again," Mycroft said with a certain implication.
Hearing this, Charlotte, who was standing beside him, shot him a cold glance.
"Mycroft, aren't you taking too long with breakfast? Don't you have something to do?"
"What I had to do is temporarily finished, Charlotte."
"I'm neither humble nor arrogant," Mycroft said. "It goes without saying, but Moriarty escaped without being captured. His Majesty has no intention of pursuing the thief's insolent behavior any further, so let him go."
"You're not going to pursue it any further?" Charlotte frowned. "Why?"
"Because he repaired Her Highness's music box."
"Is that all?"
"That music box is extremely precious to Her Highness Louise. Why do you think Her Highness chose to leave it broken rather than discard or repair it?"
Mycroft countered with a question and continued before Charlotte could answer.
"Because before that, His Majesty had consulted nearly every craftsman in London, and without exception they all declared the music box to be scrap. On one hand, it was made with custom parts with no replacements available. On the other, its design was rather complex. It could be called more of an artwork than a mere craft. If it was irreparable to begin with, then once broken… well, you can imagine."
However, the music box Moriarty sent back was not only repaired but even its internal components had been restored.
The moment they saw Her Highness's smiling face full of joy, any great anger vanished.
Hearing this, Russell silently picked up his teacup and took a sip.
"Mycroft, you look very happy," Charlotte said, looking at her brother.
"There's no longer any need to investigate Moriarty."
Mycroft naturally understood the sarcasm and couldn't help but frown.
"On the contrary, I'd like to ask you—don't you have something to explain?" Charlotte looked at him. "Or are you saying that everything Moriarty said last night was a scheme to slander you?"
Mycroft was momentarily at a loss for words.
"Listen, Charlotte—"
"Mycroft, before you speak, I'd like to remind you of one thing." Charlotte interrupted him. "Don't forget the rules."
"Rules? What rules?"
Russell's gaze darted back and forth between the two with curiosity.
"Mycroft and I have been on bad terms since we were children," Charlotte explained. "We both think the other is an idiot. So during that immature period, we certainly did a lot of things to trip each other up."
"It's hopeless," Mycroft said helplessly.
"After that, over time, we established a certain rule—"
"Don't lie."
Charlotte stared straight into Mycroft's eyes and spoke slowly and clearly.
For some reason, whenever she said that, Russell always felt like it was directed at him somehow. Probably just my imagination.
"No matter what you do, if it comes to light, you have to admit it."
The moment he heard this, Mycroft's smile finally collapsed.
He stared silently at Charlotte. His eyes, which always held calculation and cunning, were now filled only with powerlessness.
"Yes," he finally said after a long silence. "Lies are not allowed."
Russell sat between the two, watching the siblings' confrontation with great interest. This is great to watch.
He picked up a piece of toasted bread, slowly spread butter on it, and observed Mycroft's reaction.
"So," Charlotte set down her porcelain cup and looked straight at Mycroft. "What about your relationship with Moriarty?"
Mycroft fell silent again.
He picked up the coffee cup in front of him but didn't drink. He simply stared at the rising steam, as if organizing his thoughts.
Finally, he let out a resigned sigh.
"I admit it," he said, raising his face and calmly meeting his sister's gaze. "Indeed, there was some form of cooperation between him and me."
"Cooperation?"
Charlotte raised one eyebrow. "Then you didn't tell Buckingham Palace what I told you, right?"
"No."
Mycroft nodded readily.
"Was that also one of the conditions of the cooperation?"
"Yes, but to be more precise, it should be called a bet rather than cooperation."
"A bet?"
Charlotte frowned. "What were you betting on with him?"
"He bet that I would make him work overtime, but he lost. According to the bet's terms, if he lost, he had to follow his prior notice." Mycroft shrugged.
"What were the conditions of the bet?" Russell asked out of curiosity—or rather, acting as Charlotte's spokesperson.
Upon hearing this, Mycroft glanced at Russell, then at Charlotte, and said, "When I was on break, he quietly appeared at the window of my study, having climbed over the wall. Moriarty handed me a file and said that if I could remain calm after reading its contents, it would be his loss. In return, he would remove his mask. Otherwise, it would be my loss."
"What was in the file?"
"Evidence of Phineas Black's treason, though you probably don't know him anyway." Mycroft waved his hand. "Anyway, I lost. So I accept the defeat. That's all there is to it."
"Just this once?" Charlotte asked.
"Of course, just this once."
Hearing this, she fell silent.
If this was the only opportunity…
The logical chain she had painstakingly built seemed to be collapsing again.
"Tch."
Charlotte frowned and irritably downed her coffee in one gulp.
"Alright, let's leave it at that for today."
Mycroft stood up.
"I've already arranged for a carriage to take you back to Baker Street after lunch. Also, I've successfully obtained an access permit for you from Lloyds Bank."
As Mycroft spoke, he took out a letter from his pocket.
Charlotte reached out to take it and tossed it to Russell.
"I'll make good use of it."
"May I accept it?"
"Didn't you say you'd slap his face?"
Charlotte glanced at him.
Hearing this, Russell shrugged and put the envelope away.
"Thank you, Mr. Mycroft."
Russell carefully stored the letter bearing the royal crest. "I guarantee it will be put to effective use."
"I believe that."
Mycroft nodded, then turned his gaze to Charlotte.
"Well, if there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
…
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