shadow of britain

Chapter 473 Tarot Riddle

"Thank God, I was just frightened today, but I didn't break any bones."

Miss Dresset playfully blinked her charming blue-gray eyes. "The carriage crashed into the gate and exploded in an instant. Several guards in front of the gate were injured, and some ladies who were dancing had their skirts lifted up by the blast. But I was standing far away, so I was not greatly affected. Although my dear old father is over fifty years old, he is still as strong as when he was twenty. He carried me on his shoulders and escaped from the fire."

Arthur smoothed his rain-soaked hair and said, "I'm glad to hear that you're okay. Your father is truly a courageous hero. Under such circumstances, most people would have been petrified, but he still remembered to pick up his daughter and run away."

"Of course." Miss Delysert said with some pride: "My father was a soldier during the Revolution, although he only rose to the rank of major in the artillery before retiring."

As soon as she said this, Miss Dresset suddenly realized that something was wrong. She blushed and said, "Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying that my father would run away on the battlefield. He was once a very brave officer and fought street battles with the enemy with real swords and guns."

Arthur smiled and replied, "Of course. I heard from the Duke of Wellington before that the French Army has always been his biggest rival."

"The Duke of Wellington?" Miss Delysert's eyes widened slightly, and the breeze and drizzle seemed to make her eyelashes tremble. "Are you a friend of the Duke of Wellington? The Marshal of the Eight Powers who made a name for himself in the Peninsular War and the Battle of Waterloo, and your former Prime Minister?"

Arthur smiled and shook his head. "How could I be friends with such a distinguished figure as the Duke of Wellington? I was only responsible for protecting his safety for a period of time, so I occasionally had the opportunity to chat with him. I prefer to define the relationship between us as leader and servant. He does call me 'little brother' sometimes."

Miss Dresset listened attentively, and she subconsciously tightened her white lace gloves.

Arthur's words seemed to have magic. His black pupils combined with the cold moonlight would always emit a faint red glow, which was really fascinating.

"Miss Dresset?" Arthur asked, "Are you feeling unwell? If so, I'd better get off here and you can go home and rest early."

"what……"

Miss Delysette seemed to wake up from a dream. She tucked the hair behind her ears and was a little afraid to look Arthur in the eye. "No, I... I just think the stories you told are really interesting. You seem to know a lot of people. You have been a squire for the Duke of Wellington. Chopin, Liszt, Jean Arago, Hugo, and Mr. Dumas also surround you. You are just like the moon, surrounded by shining stars."

When Arthur heard her recite a series of names like a treasure trove, his mind, which had just relaxed, immediately tensed up again.

As an intelligence agent, a Scotland Yard veteran, he had his own set of double standards.

Arthur likes to monitor others, but he doesn't like others to monitor him.

He likes to know other people's secrets, but is always on guard against others stealing his secrets.

Because he has many things that cannot be made public, and each one of them is fatal.

Arthur always felt an unreasonable fear when he thought about the possibility of being stripped naked by others.

As a person who has died once, he is not afraid of death, but he is afraid of losing.

Therefore, he is extremely concerned about maintaining a relatively safe social distance from others.

Perhaps it's because I've lived in Britain for too long that I've picked up some of the cold and bad temper of the English.

Or maybe it was because of his past experiences, the pain he had suffered, the injuries he had endured, and the walls he had hit.

Whether he was the enemy of the people in the eyes of The Times, the living legend of Scotland Yard, Mr. Faraday's enthusiastic assistant, Charles Wheatstone's Asshole, Louis Bonaparte's superior and staff officer, Tom and Tony's good brother, the reactionary leader loved and hated by Alexandre Dumas, and the bad friend in the eyes of Darwin and Elder.

These are all part of his true self, and also the masks he wears to conceal his true nature.

Just like Fiona said: There is no one in the world more unhappy than him.

And this is precisely the reason why he is unhappy.

Arthur looked up at the moonlight outside the window, a pure white crescent moon, the dark clouds only highlighting its soft and hazy beauty.

What a strange thing this is!
Friends from all over the world, in London, York, Paris, in the provinces, and in South America, can all enjoy this bright moon together.

"Am I the moon?" Arthur asked softly.

Miss Dresset nodded as if it was a given: "Isn't it? Perhaps one day, you can become the sun."

"The sun?" Arthur leaned against the car window, supporting his head with one hand and smiling, "The moon's brightness is bright enough for me."

Miss Delysert was a little confused. She didn't understand why this young nobleman who seemed to have a bright future would say such discouraging words.

"Don't you want to be the sun? In Paris, people here always try their best to rise to the highest point so that people can see them as soon as they look up. They even hope that when they rise, there won't be even a cloud in the sky to steal the show."

Arthur turned his head and winked at Miss Dresset, then smiled and shook his head slightly, saying, "Don't you think it's happier to be the moon than the sun?"

Miss Delysette frowned slightly: "Why is the moon happier than the sun?"

Arthur put on his white gloves again, buttoned his politeness, bowed his head slightly and said: "Because the moon is always accompanied by stars. If a person becomes the sun, the sky in the daytime will always seem lonely. However, everyone always wants to be the sun, and it is not their fault. Because as Voltaire said: In order to comfort our suffering in the world, nature makes us trivial and frivolous."

Miss Dresset's heart was pounding. She hadn't drunk any alcohol tonight, but she felt her cheeks and body were burning.

His elegant words are just like those of a philosopher, or he is a philosopher himself. Although they are just casual words, they always sound like love words to my ears.

It's like high heels stepping on marshmallows in the clouds, the sharp heels pierce everything, while the warmth wraps up every feeling.

Miss Delysette looked at Arthur and felt dizzy.

She suddenly thought of her two sisters' husbands.

One is a banker whose mind is full of calculations and account books, and the other is a factory owner who has no interest in life and smells of motor oil.

As for the so-called most outstanding young men in Paris whom she had seen at balls before, they were nothing compared to this man.

Innate nobility does not need to be deliberately flaunted. Perhaps an unintentional action, a gesture, or a movement can reveal a person's true nature. This young man is definitely a genuine aristocrat. Even if he is not now, he will be in the future.

What was Miss Dresset thinking at this moment?
No one knows what a woman is thinking.

So, what does the devil think about this?

The red devil, who was lying on the top of the carriage, shaking his legs and drinking wine, also nodded smugly.

"Yes, that's it, Arthur. The first lesson of a diplomat's basic qualities is to show your innate charm to the ladies. You have read so many books, and I have spent a lot of effort to send you to college. If you don't use what you have learned to pick up girls, what else do you plan to do with it? Are you going to help the royalists assassinate Louis Philippe? Even Elder knows more about this matter than you do. Energetic young people usually have to make a choice between two things: creating life or taking life. Compared with the two, the former is obviously safer and easier for you."

Miss Dresset stared at Arthur, and only then did she notice the bloodstains on the shoulders of Arthur's dress in the warm moonlight.

"Ah...are you...hurt?"

Perhaps it was the emotions aroused by the night that made her gradually bolder. She raised her hand to pick up the handkerchief to wipe it, not just out of concern. For some reason, she wanted the handkerchief to be stained with some of Arthur's scent, such as a little bit of blood.

No matter which century, in London or Paris, these girls are always superstitious. The gypsies, who are despised throughout Europe, are often respected among them, and their magical crystal balls often convince the girls that such things can bring them good luck.

Arthur had not expected that there could be such a big difference between Parisian ladies and London ladies.

Although he had heard about the enthusiasm of Parisian girls from Victor and Dumas, he still had doubts about this statement because he had lived in conservative Britain for a long time.

But today, he finally saw it with his own eyes.

Perhaps she was trying to cover up her own recklessness, or perhaps she didn't want Arthur to think she was a frivolous girl.

A faint blush had already appeared on her pale cheeks, and her face was gradually regaining color. Miss Dresset took out a neatly stacked stack of playing cards from a small box on the rack behind her.

The famous detective of Scotland Yard can see through the secrets hidden in the hearts of criminals, and naturally he can also see through a clumsy and clumsy girl who has never even been in love.

Perhaps Miss Delysert put all her thoughts into choosing a rich husband, and she had no idea how to arouse the other party's interest, and just acted according to the scenario she had imagined in her mind.

She received a good family education, and had good skills in painting, piano, and rhetoric. She also read many books, and even read "The Hastings Mysteries". But unfortunately, due to her usual arrogant behavior and sarcastic words, her sisters never dared to show off their inferior partners in front of her.

Therefore, Miss Delysert's understanding of love comes almost entirely from those chivalric romance novels published by unknown publishers. Of course, it is obvious that in order to increase circulation, these authors are unlikely to write some real but chaotic love stories in their books.

However, considering that Miss Dreiser invited him to ride, Arthur did not intend to puncture her unrealistic fantasies for the time being. He had no reason to make a lady angry, and he also understood their desire for perfect love.

However, Arthur would not fulfill their dream for them, because he did not commit such a crime, so he should not shoulder the responsibility of being responsible for the ladies.

Arthur Sigmar never wrote any Mary Sue romance novel in "The Limes". If he did anything wrong in literature, it was at most the excessive artistic expression in "St. George's Flag Still Flies", turning dolphins into sharks and changing the hierarchical relationship between Elder and the dolphin.

If we must exaggerate, well, Arthur admitted that he had committed an unforgivable crime against the British religious community by creating the image of Elder Carter as a sailor saint.

However, regarding this sin, Arthur had successfully used the miracle of resurrection from the dead to make the British religious community not want to have anything to do with him.

So, everyone should be even now.

Arthur watched Miss Dresset carefully spread the playing cards one by one on the small table in the carriage, which reminded him of the time when he and Elder played cards for money in college.

"How big are you going to play?"

"How big?" Miss Dresset was stunned for a moment, then she suppressed her laughter and replied, "I don't plan to play poker with you. Didn't you just mention the stars, the moon, and the sun? So I thought you should know about Tarot cards."

"Tarot cards?"

Arthur knew that this kind of little item seemed to be very popular among ladies. Elder had studied it before in order to pick up girls, but the boy was almost arrested and sent to jail for being too close to the gypsies. Arthur had to work hard to get him out.

However, there is obviously no such regulation in France. After the Revolution, discrimination against all races in France has been eliminated, at least on the surface, so these ladies can openly show their interest in gypsy divination.

Miss Dresset saw that Arthur didn't know much about Tarot cards. She seemed to be afraid that he would associate her with gypsies, so she defended her hobby, saying, "Don't underestimate this art. It is a treasure trove of nature's mysteries and may be the oldest divination method in the world. Although everyone says that we shouldn't be superstitious, there is nothing wrong with using it to kill time and have fun. Look here, there are 78 cards in total, you only need to draw three from them, and now is the most appropriate time to use them for divination."

(End of this chapter)