Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 850: Margaret Anjou

Chapter 850 -850: Margaret Anjou

“Mr. Watson, I never thought apple wine could have such a flavor.”

Picking up the wine glass, Mr. Benhart took a sip and then squinted his eyes with a look of enjoyment:

“Not bad, truly not bad. Mr. Watson, may I ask which winery made this fruit wine? I must visit them.”

“That I cannot say, but I guarantee that this bottle of wine is just as delicious as this apple wine.”

Shard was very pleased with this result:

“Give this bottle of wine to the princess then, saying it’s a gift from a friend, brewed at a New World winery. Compared to the White Valley Vineyard output, this bottle is more suitable as a gift.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two more bottles:

“Three bottles should be enough.”

“You’ve helped me again, Mr. Watson. Please, you must dine at my manor this evening.”

Mr. Benhart said, then stood up and instructed the maid to take the wine bottles, before leaving the dining room again.

This time, Mr. Benhart was gone for a full forty minutes. During this period, lunch had ended, and Shard sat at the table, sipping tea and reading today’s newspaper. Although his Casenrick was very poor, his literacy allowed him to recognize the text on the newspaper without obstruction.

The front page headline of the local newspaper was about the princess visiting Huntington City. The other sections reported the City Hall’s announcement of financial reforms, supposedly cutting down civil servant positions and replacing them with temporary dispatch workers. The third page covered news of the local winter horse racing tournament. As for the advertisement section, just like the Northern Country’s newspapers, it had peculiar inventions such as “Stretching Device for Humans” and “Steam-powered retractable coat racks” seeking investment, or local new businesses recruiting customers.

Shard even saw fellow detectives advertising in the newspaper, promising low fees. The outlander disliked these rule-breakers, believing malicious price-cutting would harm everyone’s business.

“However, it seems the detectives in Huntington are doing well, being able to afford such large ad spaces.”

Just as Shard copied the address of “York Little Bee Pastry Shop” into his notebook, thinking of bringing some Southern Nation pastries to Dorothy and Luviya, Mr. Benhart finally returned, looking even more troubled than before.

The maid pulled a chair for the viscount, who sat down with his hands clasped together and hesitantly asked the tea-sipping Shard, who was considering whether to bring a pastry for his cat:

“Mr. Watson, if the princess wants to see you, would you mind meeting Her Highness Margaret?”

“Hmm?”

Shard looked up from his notebook in surprise:

“The princess wants to see me?”

He realized his voice was too loud, so he lowered it and pointed to himself:

“Sorry, Mr. Benhart, I cannot be seen by the princess in a place like this. You know, I’m bound to run into her in Tobesk’s social events. I can’t let her see my face beforehand. Even if I’m wearing unusual makeup that makes me unrecognizable, I can’t take the risk.”

“What about further altering your appearance? Making you look even more different.”

Mr. Benhart said apologetically:

“I know it’s unreasonable to ask your help, but earlier the princess tasted one of the three bottles of red wine and praised it highly, wanting to meet you. I’m terribly sorry, but if it’s really not…”

“Wait.”

Shard frowned and said.

[Are you going to meet her?]

A whisper murmured in his ear, and Shard restrained the urge to nod, replying in his mind:

“If I can further change my appearance based on the witch’s eyeshadow, familiarizing myself with the princess should help my plans in Tobesk.”

Thinking more carefully, this was a rare opportunity. With Mr. Benhart’s introduction, the princess’s alertness would be far less than when facing foreign knights. Taking this chance, Shard could test her character and temperament.

“But, how fortunate am I? The choice given by that golden rabbit leg is truly valuable. How many rabbits will I dream of tonight?”

Worrying about his sleep quality, he remembered there was another matter to ask:

“Mr. Benhart, do you know that the Anjou Royal Family also has Circle Sorcerers?”

The middle-aged Vampire Kind was somewhat surprised but not overly so:

“Of course I know, wait, do you mean that the current Circle Sorcerer of the Anjou Family is her? I thought it was… a correspondence student of Xerxes? Rest assured, I won’t say a word about it.”

“The other party is a Circle Sorcerer, so is there any chance that they could see through your disguise?”

Mr. Benhart immediately shook his head:

“Don’t worry, this is a unique illusion technique of the Vampire Kind, a combination of racial talent and arcane technique. I didn’t use it in Midshire Fort because once such a talent is discovered by a local High Ring Sorcerer, they can immediately identify my true identity. But I bet that Her Highness Margaret is definitely not a High Ring, so you needn’t worry. I am quite confident about my racial talent.”

Shard nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, put away his notebook:

“Very well, then let’s go meet Her Highness the Princess.”

“Mr. Watson, thank you for your assistance. I apologize for the inconvenience. But rest assured, Her Highness Margaret is very approachable and doesn’t have many of the bad habits of the nobility.”

As he spoke, he reached out and wiped Shard’s face. When Shard looked in the mirror again, he found that his appearance had changed subtly. It seemed the same as before, yet there were two different faces upon closer inspection.

The third floor of the White King Club reserved rooms for its high-ranking members, and the princess, who was preparing to take a steam hover zeppelin to Tobesk, was waiting to meet her guests in one of these rooms.

Mr. Benhart spoke with the guards at the door, who then knocked and informed the maid who opened it of their guests’ identities. Soon, Shard and Armand Benhart were granted permission to enter. As Shard stepped into the room, the Witch Detection Badge hanging on his chest began to warm up.

This indicated that the princess who had taken the “Difference Engine” data from Shard in Midshire Fort was indeed Margaret Anjou.

The premium members’ lounge was even more luxurious than high-end hotel suites, with a red carpet that seemed to be pure wool. Half of the room’s windows were draped, and Margaret Anjou sat in a single armchair facing away from them.

She appeared to be about the same age as Shard’s body, with the Anjou Royal Family’s signature light golden hair and slightly faded light blue eyes, which Shard thought lacked the depth and clarity of Dr. Schneider’s blue eyes.

Since it was a casual meeting, she wore no crown, but her long dress exuded elegance and nobility. Her eyes were narrow, her eyebrows more beautiful than her hair. Her lustrous light golden hair was tied together, hanging over her right shoulder. What struck Shard most was her height.

By rough estimate, she was only a little shorter than Shard, a stature he had only seen in the Grand Witch before.

She didn’t exude the youthful vigor of seventeen-year-old Iluna, nor the gentleness and intellect of the recently famous Dorothy, and she differed from the reserved yet passionate Lecia. Her demeanor perfectly matched that of a conventional “princess,” the kind who, at a glance, would unmistakably be associated with the term.

The room bore a faint fragrance, and as Shard and Mr. Benhart entered, the princess held a Casenric language book titled “Northern Pearl: The History of Tobesk.” Apart from porcelain teacups and some file folders, the coffee table held three bottles of red wine and a glass goblet.

The maid led the two gentlemen to the sofa. With permission granted, they sat, choosing seats thereby distancing themselves from the princess, with Mr. Benhart closer to her.

“Viscount Benhart, is this the vineyard owner you mentioned?”

She asked in Casenric, a language with very complex grammar but full of dignity. Margaret Anjou’s eyes scrutinized Shard. Despite his altered appearance, the incredible affable aura of many blessed souls immediately earned a favorable impression from the Foreign Princess.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Armand Benhart respectfully answered, holding his hat, and introduced Shard:

“This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who runs his own vineyard in the New World and is originally a Draleon. He has traveled extensively.”

Not using “John Watson” because Watson’s name was for Shard’s Circle Sorcerer adventures and should not be linked to ordinary worldly matters. “Sherlock Holmes” was used when he joined MI6 for the convenience of drawing salary (chapter 168), and even if it were leaked, it would not immediately be associated with him.

“Hello.”

The young princess smiled and nodded slightly at Shard, who replied:

“Good morning, Your Highness. It’s an honor to be summoned by you. I hope you are satisfied with the wine I provided?”

He deliberately used his broken Casenric, a small trick to boost favorability.

With an elegant smile, Margaret Anjou observed Shard while he slightly bowed with his hat. This marked the Outlander’s first encounter with the Princess of the Southern Nation, and to Shard, the princesses of this world were nothing like those in fairy tales.

They were independent, intelligent, and savvy. They didn’t need their princes; whether it was Lecia, who had an inexplicable ambition for power, or Margaret Anjou, who sought to attract a top spy, these princesses surpassed the storybook princes in excellence.