Please give everything to Her Royal Highness

Doris suddenly understood why the atmosphere here was so depressing...deadly silent.

It's completely different from the legendary "Princess Grace", the daughter of the Ibro's country-destroying witch.

She is imprisoned here.

This is her prison.

The wandering Doris had no time to feel the almost self-immolating desire in the poem, and the door was gently pushed open with a creak.

Subconsciously, Doris hid behind the long curtains as if she had a guilty conscience, even though they could not see her.

A young woman came through the door. Her pure white clothes were no different from those of a priest in a church. Her brown hair was covered by a white square hat, making her appear clean and capable.

Beneath the delicate features, the eyes are dim and dull, forming a sharp contrast with Grace.

She held a metal tray in her hand, which was a torture "tool" for injecting liquid droplets into the body.

But she is not as fierce as a traditional prison guard. Instead, her tired eyes and tone are full of concern.

"Ms. Mei Lan, who is on duty in the morning, said you had the needle removed this morning?"

Doris didn't understand what was going on now.

She spied on the memories of countless girls like a dark mouse, reviewed the memories of women like a god, and then drew nutrients and inspiration from their memories.

There are innocent and innocent rich ladies, there are also bitches who rack their brains all day long to release their jealousy that has nowhere to go, and there are also ladies who just want to climb up...

But this is the first time that Grace has shown a different world.

Grace calmly put the diary on the table and said coldly, like a frozen iceberg, "Yes."

"Let's see, isn't this good now? Just give it an injection and you'll get better soon, right?"

The woman in white frowned, her lifeless eyes glanced at Grace's lifeless expression leaning against the wall, and murmured while changing the plastic bottle,

"If you look at others coldly like this, your mood will not get better. Dr. Doerr said that you must maintain a good mood to recover better."

Grace lay on the hospital bed and argued with a sneer,

"I'm not sick."

"Aren't you sick?"

The woman in white seemed to be accustomed to Grace's rebuttal. She turned the drip speed adjustment gear on the infusion tube and flicked it.

"Then why does the doctor say you are sick? I won't bring you a book next time you pull out the needle."

"..."

Grace lowered her eyes in silence and said nothing.

The woman in white took out a syringe with a slender tip from the silver tray.

"What's wrong? Do you still want to watch TV series tonight? I remember I watched half of "The Smoker", right?"

Grace didn't give any response to the woman in white, like a walking corpse that could only breathe.

"Do not speak……"

The woman in white sighed slightly, and then injected some liquid into the suspended plastic tube, and the liquid would enter Grace's body.

"But... Miss Eileen said that she will prepare a game console or something like that for you, so you can use it to kill some time."

"understood."

As if the fish on the chopping board already knew the outcome, Grace accepted it all calmly.

"Get some rest and call me if you need anything."

The lady in white, who encountered obstacles at every turn, could not break through Grace's defense, so she could only leave a gentle word and hurriedly closed the door and left.

Grace is indeed so indifferent wherever she is.

However, when the name "Irene" was mentioned, Miss Doris clearly observed that Grace's pupils dilated slightly.

According to their tone, he should be the one imprisoning Grace?

Isn't this a prison but a hospital?

So what exactly is wrong with Grace?

Is this another world?Or is it the upper realm that the goddess Wells said?

Doris didn't know, she could only hide quietly behind the curtains like a wandering spirit, carefully observing every move of Grace in front of her.

Although there is a place similar to a hospital in Laing, the medical system here is completely different from that in Grace.

It has something to do with those witch doctors that are popular among the people and have no magic content.

Doris glanced quietly out of the window.

Outside the transparent glass is a gorgeous sunset, the vast sky is dyed into a sea of ​​burning oranges, and there is a sense of desolate beauty in the silence.

After the room was closed, Grace ushered in a new loneliness, but she was not idle, but started to look for something in the only range of activities.

It was the first time she saw Grace so eager and anxious. She was so thin that she gritted her teeth and pressed the pen holder with her left hand. She put her whole body weight on the pen with her buttocks, trying to break the water-based pen.

There was a snap, the sound of plastic breaking.

The pen used for writing was broken in the middle and turned into a sharp instrument.

Doris can confirm that if the tip of the inverted triangle is pierced into the skin with force, it will definitely make people bleed.

But Grace's eyes darkened. She tugged at the shackles in her hands and sharpened the cracked section on the metal cabinet next to her.

The locked wrists were overstretched, and the shape of the shackles was deeply embedded in the white skin, pressing against the hard bones.

It almost broke the slender wrist.

It just looks like it hurts.

But Grace is like an unruly wild cat, sharpening her claws in the cage, waiting for the moment of revenge.

Who is she waiting for?Who does she want to take revenge on?Or the one who locked her up?

Doris's heart was aroused in this way, and she observed Grace's behavior motionlessly.

To be honest, Grace is a very defensive person, and is Grace the person she is looking for?

Amidst the rustling, Grace gradually ground the signature pen into the desired sharp shape. She hid the sharp tool under the quilt beside her legs and lay dormant. A shocking purple color fell from the skin on her left wrist.

Then, the sky gradually dimmed, and a few stars were scattered on the night sky.

Looking out through the wide-open glass, Doris saw more tall buildings made of steel.

This place is similar to the continent of Eris, but completely different. There are square iron boxes that move as fast as lightning, and lights that stay up all night.

Not the continent of Eris, but a brand new place, the Nine Heavens, or hell?

No, Doris quickly ruled out that this was the ninth heaven where the gods lived.

She had been summoned by the goddess Wells and had seen the sacred residences of the superior gods. It was a paradise shrouded in countless clouds and mist, not the urban forest made of steel at the moment.

And Grace didn't turn on the lights during the quiet moments at night, and closed her eyes. Her red eyes were as bright as will-o'-the-wisps in the night.

She waited in silence, doing nothing.

Doris had no choice, she couldn't get out of the room, so she could only savor the poetry collection Grace read and the sentences she wrote by her own hand.

I don’t know how long it took, but the door was gently pushed open again in the darkness.

In the backlit doorway, Doris saw a woman wearing red high heels.

Under the outline outlined by light and shadow, she could only clearly see the woman's exquisite and graceful figure, as well as her slightly curly light brown waves.

Is this Miss Irene?

Grace, who had been waiting in the darkness with the help of stars, quickly closed her eyes at this moment.

She pretended to be asleep and secretly clenched the sharp weapon hidden in her hand.

The woman clicked on the light and then slowly walked into the cage.

Miss Irene wore a red dress that was as red as blood, long and trailing to her ankles, which unexpectedly matched Grace.

Doris stared at her intently. The woman's makeup was exquisite, her facial features were majestic and extremely aggressive, her steps were steady and full of oppression, and the shallow tear mole under the corner of her eye slightly diluted the aggressiveness on her face.

Inexplicably, there is a sense of immediacy.

She does have a slight resemblance to the famous Princess Victoria.

However, it is not a physical resemblance, but a spiritual resemblance.

Grace remained motionless, closing her eyes as quietly as Sleeping Beauty, leaving her clean side face to Miss Irene.

The two parties seemed to be caught in some kind of wonderful game.

Erin walked quietly to the bedside, glanced condescendingly at Grace, and then gently tapped the black diary on the side table with her trimmed index finger.

She opened and read Grace's diary without hesitation.

She deserves to be in control of everything about Grace, so she can explore the bottom line of other people's privacy unconditionally.

The thin veins on Grace's forehead bulged for a moment. She realized what Irene was doing, so she held the sharp weapon she had made with her free left hand, waiting for the fatal blow.

152.Destroying love

Gossip is human instinct.

Doris is curious about the relationship between two people from the nature of her soul.

A person's truest nature can be discerned from how he treats people whose social status is inferior to him.

Grace's character is a bit cold and sharp, but someone who can lend a helping hand to vulnerable groups in a crowded square will not be a villain.

Ding has sharp edges and corners, but his personality is like a cat, slightly awkward and cute.

To whom would she reveal such direct aggression?

What kind of mentality did she have when she wrote the words in the notebook...

Grace is so different, is she the person that the goddess Wells is looking for?

Six years ago, Doris, who was still concentrating on magic, accidentally felt the call of the goddess Wells one morning.

On the ninth level of the mist-shrouded sky, she heard the goddess's request, asking her to find the person who was ultimately evil.

The definition of a person who is ultimately evil is also very simple, a person who will destroy the laws of the world. This is a surprise for the continent of Eris.

But isn’t the goddess omniscient and omnipotent?Why can't I do it myself?

——For Doris, she always carries this question.

The goddess seemed to hear her inner thoughts, and said in a voice full of divinity, "She is not the people I gave birth to, so naturally she cannot sense her existence, but you - you are watched by me and bathed in grace. The God-given one will eventually find her one day... and then kill her."

Whether it is Grace or not, what is known so far is that Grace is different from all the women she has explored before.

Doris read on quietly with this question in mind.

The woman wearing red high heels read the writing in her hand in silence.

She looked condescendingly at Grace, who had her eyes closed by the bed, but kept her head still.

From this point of view, there is a kind of malicious looking down from a superior person.

She closed the notebook and put it next to the desk. She stared at Grace for a long time and exposed the pretense without mercy.

"I know you're awake, stop pretending."

In the quiet square room, the instrument panel showing the vitality of life was ticking and running rhythmically.

Miss Irene's voice was also a little cold, but her voice was not different from the indifference that Grace deliberately created by alienating others, but one that was absolutely rational and calm.

But Grace remained unmoved, still relaxing with her eyes closed, breathing as calmly as Sleeping Beauty.

Eileen seemed to have already responded to this. She bent her body slightly, stretched her slender hands under the pure white sheets, and explored under them very domineeringly.

Easily, like an adult subduing a child, she took out the sharp weapon she had prepared for a long time from under Grace's bed.

I can't hold it in anymore.

Grace's pretense of sleeping finally ended. She pushed Miss Irene away with one hand while wearing jingling shackles, and yelled out in an angry voice suppressed from her throat:

"E-Lin-! You really deserve to go to hell!"

His eyes as sharp as sharp knives stared at her with extreme disgust, wanting to pierce her eyes straight.