The Heart of The Diamond

Ch.1 || The Caterpillar in My Garden.

" Darling, are you alright?"

"Evidently, My love. Why do you ever consider such a thing?"

"I was merely concerned since you seemed dazed throughout our previous discussion."

"There is no need to worry, I assure you; I'm Alright."

Those were Mrs. Holmes' final words. She died a few moments later as a result of the birth of her unborn child. That infant was a daughter, and that daughter was Ms. Holmes. And you probably recognize her most famously as Sherlock Holmes, the most renowned consulting detective in history.

London, 1812, Holmes residence.

"Zzz" 

The atmosphere was encircled by a terrible noise that sounded like a boar. As a lovely brunette woman dozed off in her chambers. 

Countless novels ranging from Shakespeare to Kriota Willberg. Leonardo De Vinci's research on the human structure is among them. The literature that littered the shelves and was staked on the flooring appeared worn as if someone had been studying them for quite some time.

An older woman entered the room and noticed that the youngest Holmes was still sleeping at an unacceptably late hour. 

She strolled throughout the room, occasionally picking up a book just to drop it on a disordered table. She hastily opened the curtains, allowing the blinding sunlight to flood the room. The sunlight appeared to have awoken the brunette, as she grumbled and moved away from the ray of sunlight that had struck her face moments before.

The elderly lady was irritated and yanked back the covers that were wrapped around the brunette. 

"Your brother will arrive in the afternoon, so you must get up. If your father discovers that you have not woken up or even dressed for your brother's arrival, he will be unhappy." 

She simply received a loud grunt. The brunette spoke.

 "Why must I get up? I'm sure my Brother wouldn't mind if I didn't bother to greet him when he arrived. As far as I know, he'd prefer that I stay in bed the entire time he's here." 

"That is not true; your brother adores you; he simply has a difficult time expressing his brotherly affection for you."

The Woman disagreed with the young brunette. She'd known them since they were children. Given that her spouse was still living. She adores them dearly, although it appears that she favors the youngest the most.

When their mother died, the eldest grew distant; she believed it was out of sorrow, but it didn't appear so, for he didn't cry nor shed a tear during his mother's funeral.

 "Love isn't real; it's an illusion, a story that parents tell their children to give them hope that it will happen to them someday, but it's just a simple combination of lust, attraction, and attachment, and it certainly is dreadful, you should know Mrs. Hudson, you and your late husband used to do sorts of "intimate... moments," as I should say."

The brunette remarked as she sat on her bed, smirking at Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson, for one, is not easily astonished, but the young girl would never fail to surprise her.

"N- Wha-, Who told you such nonsense?! That is not proper for a lady to remark, let alone your knowledge of my- Ou- Erm private Life?!"