"I'm back."

Angelyl came back quickly.

Oreo looked away from his book and nodded.

Seeing him like this, Angelil really wanted to give him a big mouth, but in the end she honestly squatted in front of the stove to prepare lunch.

After a while, Angelil asked suddenly.

"You've never cooked, have you?"

Oreo said as a matter of course.

"Of course, the aristocracy never had to do it themselves."

"Aristocrats?"

Angelyl swept the sliced mushrooms into the boiling water and turned to ask.

"Your Excellency Pravor, what rank of nobleman, count, or viscount are you?"

Oreo put down his book and asked with interest.

"Why can't it be a duke or a marquis?"

"Shhhhh

Angelyl turned her head and said as she watched the fire.

"Turin doesn't have a down-and-out marquis like you, let alone a duke."

Oreo wasn't embarrassed either, he took two turns around the office before crouching down beside Angelyle.

"I said Angelil, instead of caring about this, you should care about yourself."

"It's just small talk,"

Angelyl frowned, "But what do you mean by caring about yourself?" ”

Oreo pinched a piece of cheese and rubbed it between his fingertips.

"The celebration day is very close, you can choose a nobleman of your choice in advance."

"Pick in advance?"

Angelil paused, "I'm just a prostitute, not one of those aristocratic ladies. ”

Oreo said in a long voice.

"To be precise, you are the daughter of a prostitute, and of course you have the right to make a choice.

And you know, the election of the Black Queen doesn't happen overnight, and you need to be prepared before doing so, and it's important for you to get the support of certain nobles. ”

Angelyl nonchalantly flicked the spoon.

"Oh, my mom told me about it, and she'll take care of it for me."

"Angelil,"

Oreo's tone was a little more serious, "You have to make your own decisions about this kind of thing. ”

"Mr. Oreo."

Angelyl said calmly, "A prostitute's daughter can only be a prostitute, and a prostitute who is sold can't choose a buyer for herself. ”

"Angelyl!"

Oreo decides to radically reverse Angelil's mind.

"You're not a prostitute, you're going to be the Black Queen! The object of admiration of all men in Turin, so you have the right to make a choice. ”

"I understand what you mean, Your Excellency Plavor."

Angelyl shook her head and put the prepared mushroom soup into a bowl.

"But for me, it doesn't make a difference to marry a nobleman I like or dislike. In a few years I'll be swept out of the house and back to Eleventh Street as a prostitute......"

Accompanied by the sizzling sound of frying steak, Angelyl's calm narration is interspersed.

"In this way, instead of marrying a nobleman I like, it is better to marry a nobleman I don't like in the first place, so I will choose the husband I don't like the least from the husband my mother chose for me, and then marry him, and strive to be swept away as soon as possible."

"Angelyl ......"

Oreo wanted to say something, but Angelil didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Your Excellency Pravor, you are not a prostitute, of course you will not understand what those nobles are thinking, of course they cannot be with a prostitute for the rest of their lives, after all, there are always younger and more beautiful women."

As she spoke, the steak was ready, and Angelil picked it up, garnished it with a broccoli, and pushed the plate in front of Oreo.

"Mr. Oreo, eat the steak and creamy mushroom soup you want."

Judging by Angelyl's demeanor, it was obvious that she didn't want to continue the topic with herself.

Oreo sighed inwardly as he mechanically cut the steak in front of him.

To be honest, Angelyl's craftsmanship is good, but he's not in the mood to taste it anymore.

After eating, Angelil washed the dishes for the two of them, and then found a corner of the office to dry.

After doing all this, she put on her black trench coat, her expression was as usual, and her tone was excited.

"Mr. Oreo, it's time for us to go."

"Okay."

Oreo got up from his chair and put on his coat.

All the way down Ninth Street, neither of them spoke.

Just as Oreo was about to find some way to comfort Angelil, Angelil suddenly ran up.

"I'm going to buy two marshmallows!"

Oreo nodded, waiting where he was.

Angelil always pretends to be mature, but she still reveals the innocence of a girl in her bones.

How could such a little girl carry so many things, should this scene be called a personal tragedy, or the sorrow of Turin?

No, her thoughts are too objective, maybe she has long been accustomed to this inevitable fate.

Angelyl didn't know when she walked out, and was tilting her head to stare at Oreo who was out of his mind.

Noticing the change in Oreo's eyes, she withdrew her gaze, reached out and handed out a marshmallow, whispering.

"Give."

Taking the marshmallow, Oreo said as he walked briskly toward Seventh Street.

"I have other thoughts about the cat."

This topic really piqued Angelil's interest, and she hurriedly said.

"What thoughts?"

Oreo licked the marshmallow.

"You said earlier that the porter knew that there was something wrong with the cat, and that, as the original owner of the cat, Mrs. Andorra had no reason not to know this, unless ......"

"The truth is that she really didn't find out,"

Angelyl frowned, "So we have to tell her the truth." ”

Oreo nodded slowly.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, if we assume that Mrs. Andorra knows that this cat is fake, then why would she go to the extra mile and ask us to buy her a cat and send it over?"

After thinking for a while, Angelyl shook her head slowly.

"I don't understand."

Oreo followed.

"I don't understand it either, but it can be used as a starting point for reasoning."

As they spoke, the two had come to the Boulevard de Brussels, where the black house of Mrs. Andorra stood out among the buildings.

Oreo stepped forward and pressed the doorbell, and the two of them soon heard the porter's footsteps.

"Excuse me..."

He pulled the door open and asked politely, but he quickly recognized Oreo and frowned.

"What are you doing again?"

Oreo shrugged.

"The cat."

Hearing this flat tone, the porter was going crazy.

He clenched his fists on the spot, and finally took ten gold coins out of his pocket and slapped them into Oreo's hand as he cursed.

"Isn't a thousand gold coins enough, you greedy pauper!"

Oreo took the gold coin and thanked him politely.

"Thank you."

The porter swore and slammed the iron door shut, but Oreo stopped him suddenly.

He stared at the lewd man in front of him and said viciously.

"What else do you want to do?"

Oreo ignored him, instead raised his right hand and shouted.

"Viscount Borg, we're meeting again."