Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

"It seems I should get what I want?"

The thin gauze skirt fluttered in the cold wind, and her slender figure stood on the snow-covered ground. She looked frail, but that very fragility accentuated her poignant beauty.

"Yes, ma'am, you've found someone who can solve your problems, and you've got a wonderful little helper!"

With arms outstretched, Charlotte twirled in the falling snow, displaying her true self. She made no attempt to conceal her swagger, nor did she hide the bells in her hair.

Jingle bell, jingle bell.

"That would be an honor, but my little darling, don't catch a cold."

With a slight upturn of her lips, as if equally moved by the girl's liveliness, Melissand fetched a windproof coat and gently draped it over the young woman's shoulders.

As you get closer, the silver bell becomes clearer, revealing intricate carvings and echoing sounds.

Mozambique Ludwig?

That taciturn man actually has a connection with this girl, which makes things quite interesting.

In reality, her reason for coming to Singer's firm was to find a scapegoat of someone with considerable influence, hoping to serve as a warning to Cliff, that self-willed mediocre man. After all, countless detectives have died out of curiosity; one more or less wouldn't make a difference.

But she never expected to encounter the silver-haired girl she was looking for. On a whim, she temporarily changed the person she was supposed to be assigned to. After chatting for a while, the girl's unique charm further fueled her interest.

Her words and actions were not in sync; they carried the scent of lies. She was lively and fickle, with a touch of deliberate artifice. Most importantly, her intuition told Melissand that the other person was the wedge she had been searching for.

She loved the flower of the heart, which was both vile and dazzling, and she also loved the glittering gold hidden deep between the spirit and the flesh in the darkness. The Enlightenment Society was precisely lacking this unique color.

So, her initial thought was extinguished. Compared to Bathory's ugly desires, Melissand was more interested in seeing what this girl wanted to do.

"Thank you, ma'am. May I bring these two young ladies with me? They are both excellent assistants. Having them around makes solving cases and getting along with people much more pleasant."

The fingertips tapped each other, the tone timid—it was a small request.

"If this is your wish, I will not refuse."

A smile is an unwavering indulgence.

Stepping over the footboard, they entered the carriage one by one. Unlike the rented roadside cars, this carriage was quite spacious, and even with four ladies seated, it did not feel crowded at all.

Its exterior decorations are exquisite, yet they rarely reveal a luxurious style. The silver-edged carvings fall perfectly on the horizontal railings, and a few real fresh flowers are inserted in between.

What pleased Charlotte the most were the two beautifully groomed horses at the front of the carriage; she had to put in a lot of effort to resist the urge to stroke their fluffy coats.

With a flick of the whip, the wheels turned, and the interior of the carriage appeared perfectly stable and smooth, clearly indicating that the carriage was specially designed with spring suspension for shock absorption.

Melissand took a plate of cakes in a glass container from the freezer, placed several spoons around the edges, and then presented it to the group.

“This is cream sponge. I heard from Mr. Singh that you also come from the Duchy of Plantagenet, so you should be familiar with it.”

"Thank you for your generosity, madam."

No one can resist a dessert placed before them, especially when she scoops up a spoonful and puts it to her lips, the not-too-sweet and not-too-greasy taste immediately fills her heart, accompanied by those exceptionally delicious red strawberries hidden in the cream.

It's delicious!

With her eyelashes slightly raised, Charlotte observed the expressions of her little sparrows. Although they were reserved, they also made small gestures of admiration. Charlotte covered her cheeks and sighed as if she had lost her composure.

"After so long, tasting it again, I must say, the cream sponge cake is truly a national treasure of the Kingdom of Golden Flower!"

"I'm glad you like it. It's made for young girls like you. As someone from the same hometown, to run into you in Tingen is a rare stroke of luck for me, who considers myself alone, and an irresistible temptation."

Melissant scooped up half a spoonful of cream, her hands moving without stopping, but her eyes were fixed on the composed silver-haired girl.

“However, Miss Watson, I have never seen you in the world of fame and fortune in Tingen before, not even once, but you certainly have an unforgettable presence. So, young lady, would you mind telling me about your past experiences?”

Seeing the beautiful woman turn her gaze towards her, clearly waiting for her to speak, Charlotte felt a pang in her heart.

Of course she minded. As for the Duchy of the Golden Flower, the girl's knowledge was limited to knowing the name and having read the newspaper a few times.

This isn't Charlotte's fault; the more convenient it is to use, the harder it is to find books to explore it further.

Of course, these words cannot be said, nor is it necessary to say them.

Anyway, she has her own way of responding.

Charlotte nodded politely and gently, speaking softly, her voice tinged with sorrow.

“Madam, actually, I only recently arrived in Tingen. There are some things you've really misunderstood. I... well, never mind, it's not something worth talking about. It would only add to the sadness. I'm sure you're tired of hearing the same old stories about family decline. Well, although this is our first meeting, Ms. Melissand, you give me a very warm feeling. I hope this little secret won't affect the atmosphere between us.”

The interplay of truth and falsehood, reality and illusion, is a simple yet effective technique. It involves subtly concealing what one cannot say or does not know without making the other party feel guilty, thus leaving room for the lie to be covered up.

Of course, all of this is based on the premise that Ms. Melissand is not the type to pry into things, and as expected, Charlotte's calculations were spot on.

Knowing the girl's disapproval, Melissant simply sighed gently, then remarked with emotion.

"This was my oversight. The turmoil in the principality has lingered for so long. What family can find peace of mind amidst partisan wars and popular uprisings?"

"Ladies, we've arrived."

Fortunately, just as Charlotte was struggling with how to change the subject, the dull thud of the horseshoes hitting the ground lessened, and the entire carriage slowed down.

The well-dressed coachman stepped down from the driver's seat, respectfully unfolded the folding footrests, and dutifully waited for the group to disembark.

Bathed in the gentle breeze, the fresh green of the fields and the elegant Western-style buildings come into view as you step on your toes.

This is not just a detached villa, but also has a sizable courtyard. Looking around, you can see flowers in full bloom and greenery climbing the walls.

"Ms. Melissant, as part of the investigation, may I inquire about Ms. Camilla's family background?"

"Of course, I intended to explain it to you in detail."

Passing through the solid wood fence, over the lush green duckweed, and following the chandelier into the front hall, they deliberately slowed their pace and learned the truth about the deceased from the beautiful woman's account.

Camilla's husband, Viscount Chaplin, was a co-founder of the West Coast Railroad Company, owning seven percent of the shares. Originally, it was just a small company that could barely make a little money, but as the railway in Tingen was laid one by one, the citizens' demand for transportation became more and more urgent, and the company rapidly expanded and became the leader in this industry in the coastal area. Viscount Chaplin's wealth skyrocketed as a result.

The only problem was that when he married Camilla, the company was still relatively unknown. As a result, he didn't pay much attention to his shares and didn't implement "property sharing protection." Instead, he adopted the more popular "bequest" method.

When the incident occurred suddenly and she died unexpectedly without any children, the court ruled that her estate should be entirely given to Ms. Camilla according to the draft will.

With just this share, its current value far exceeds 200,000 gold pounds. Adding in her other miscellaneous assets, it must be said that Camilla is a truly wealthy lady. If she were to remarry, she would definitely become the object of many gentlemen in Tingen's pursuit, and even noblemen would be lining up to knock on her door.

“Ms. Melissant, you’re finally back. Those fools who have lost their master couldn’t even keep their composure for such a short time. They’re all making excuses and providing proof.”

Upon seeing the beautiful woman, the old woman dressed as a waitress quickly stepped forward, intending to pour out her troubles.

However, with just a glance from the side, the elderly woman covered her mouth, not daring to utter a single word. She lowered her head, presented Melissand with a clean white cloth, and then knelt down to wipe the snow stains from her high heels with a small brush.

"Alright, ladies, the room ahead is where the crime occurred. Camilla is in that bedroom now. Whether you want to question others or gather clues, it's up to you."

Her slightly somber voice faded, like someone who had lost a friend and didn't want to face them. Melissand held onto the stair railing, leaning weakly against the wall, without uttering a word.

Following the light inwards, dozens of colorful candles were placed in glass lamps on the ceiling. They burned slowly, emitting a rich incense. The smell alone could make one feel slightly dazed and lost in thought.

"Something's weird here."

The bird girl looked around. Even though the surrounding decorations were luxurious, for some reason she wrapped her cotton-padded coat tighter and felt uneasy.

"Don't worry, I'm here."

Gently holding Winnie's hand, Charlotte, through her spiritual vision, noticed that the servants' emotions were quite strange.

Fear and panic are normal reactions, but their outward expressions are relatively calm, like puppets being manipulated in a general way.

She didn't stop there. Aside from the first old woman, she briefly spoke with each of the servants, asking nothing really, just standard inquiries such as who first discovered the situation, the exact time of the incident, and the victim's condition before death—

"How did you confirm Ms. Camilla's death, and what was her condition at the time?"

To make her detective work appear more professional, the girl even took out her notebook and meticulously wrote down the conversation.

“Ms. Camilla usually comes to have breakfast at seven o’clock sharp in the morning, but today she did not leave her bedroom, so Miss Antia knocked on the door to ask what was going on.”

"As expected, she didn't get a reply, so we used the steward's key to open the bedroom door. When we looked inside, we were immediately terrified. The lady was lying there, covered in blood. We all saw it, everyone saw it!"

Muttering and shouting, perhaps Charlotte's question had touched a nerve, as those being questioned were all emotionally charged and rebuked, encompassing the entire group.

Charlotte could understand their fear. The sudden change from someone they had known every day to a lifeless corpse was a shock that would make them question the reality of life. But even so, it was still very strange. Everyone has selfish desires, and differences between individuals will always lead to different answers. Even though these servants' responses differed slightly in wording, they conveyed the same meaning.

“They’re lying, Ms. Camilla…”

Clutching the girl's sleeve, unlike her usual silence, Sufby murmured absentmindedly.

"Let's go, let's go take a look at the crime scene."

Not ignoring this discovery, Charlotte followed the little sparrow's lead and pushed open the door.

A wave of heat immediately hits you, the central fireplace is releasing overflowing heat, and several dressing mirrors are placed on the walls on both sides, showing that the owner cares about his appearance.

Between them, on a round carpet of gray and white wool, on a bed of red cedar and velvet, a beautiful figure lay quietly, the blood seeping out soaking the bedding beneath her.

The girl saw Camilla's body as promised. It was a woman full of mature charm. Thick foundation covered her pale face. Apart from the dagger stuck in her chest and the blood-red nightgown, she did not look like a dead body at all. Instead, she looked like a princess sleeping peacefully.

"Um, Watson, she, she!"

Charlotte gently comforted the little bird by covering its eyes.

"Breathe in and out, relax, Winnie, I'm here."

It is a repetition of the second time.

"But...but I can't control it..."

Staggering toward the corpse, the chestnut-haired girl instinctively reached for the dagger stuck in her chest. Fortunately, a hand grabbed her wrist first, and an embrace calmed the turmoil in her heart.

“Winnie, if you’re not sure what the consequences of your actions will be, then don’t act. A temporary interruption of the trail is tolerable compared to the negative impact of getting involved.”

Like a teacher instructing a student, or like a ballet dancer, she lifted Winnie's slender waist, tilted her body to the side, and made her beautiful eyes face her eyebrows, and her light pink lips face her.

With just a gentle push, it can fit snugly together.

A blush rose to her cheeks, and a feeling of shyness welled up inside her. The hazy state of mind vanished in an instant. She instinctively wanted to escape, yet she lingered in this intimacy.

As the text describes, Charlotte had already sensed something amiss, however subtle. Camilla's nostrils were still flaring, her heart was still beating, and the blood that was seeping out was still fresh.

She is still alive.

But he was already close to death.

The servants weren't the first to discover the situation; it was the women now in the bedroom who did.

If one's fingertips touch a sharp knife, if someone else steps in at that moment, the accusation of framing will fall on both of their heads, just like—

Click.

Before my thoughts could wander any further, the door was quietly pushed open, and the dim candlelight trembled gently in the wind, releasing wisps of smoke.

The blue-haired beauty who entered raised her lips, her expression a mixture of fear, panic, and understanding. Her long, slender heels clicked on the floor, creating a harsh sound. With a half-smile, she said:

"Girls, how could you do this!"

Chapter Seventy: Identity Swap and Whispered Words (4.5k)

The hoarse sound of the door opening and closing reached her ears, and the soft thud of heels hitting the ground told Charlotte that she already knew Mélisande's scheme.

Even if they do nothing and don't touch Camilla's body, they will still be labeled as suspects.

Therefore, one must remain uninvolved with irrefutable evidence, just like—

With a slight pursing of her thin lips, the girl ruffled her hair and loosened the floral embroidery at her collar, gazing tenderly at the flustered bird girl in her arms.

Without hesitation, she bent down, lowered her head, pressed down on the silly, innocent little head, and placed a kiss on her delicate, light pink lips.

A soft, warm touch spread, and a shy blush rose to her cheeks. No one expected Charlotte to do such a thing, including Winnie and Sophomore.

"Um, Watson! You, you, I—"

With her emerald eyes wide open, the bird girl stared blankly at Watson, her body gradually softening in his embrace, only able to stammer softly.

Without pausing, as if immersed in the moment, indifferent, Charlotte stroked her chestnut hair with her pale fingers, as if petting a cat.

Her hair was messed up, and a few playful strands of hair slipped down her face from both sides, adding a touch of genuine cuteness to Winnie's originally adorable expression.

......

Clenching her slender fingers, her chest heaving, Sueby's consciousness was not very clear in the hazy smoke. She could see Watson and Winnie's kissing lips. Anger and bitterness overwhelmed her dizziness, making her eyes red and watery.

The inner turmoil transforms into a raging fire, impossible to extinguish or extinguish, burning from within, from soul to body. It vanishes in an instant, like the receding tide, leaving behind only a larger, more unsatisfying emptiness.

Even her blood-red eyes showed a hint of murky desire, as if a white fish had entered a pool of blood.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, all was silent; even the beautiful woman's deliberate condemnation failed to stir the slightest ripple.

Perhaps it was only a few seconds, perhaps a very long time, but as their lips parted, the girl raised her eyes and looked at the person who had come from behind with a calm expression.

"Madam, I don't understand what you're saying?"

In front of the former's gaze, she deliberately licked the corner of her lips with the tip of her tongue, making a show of enjoyment, and then swept her aggressive, lingering gaze over Melissant's full-figured, exceptionally sexy body.