The Sin of Ludwigs

"That's just a bad bedtime story for kids, and please don't call me Ludwigs, my name is just Ludwig," I retorted.

I have naturally heard the story of the blue beard who married one wife after another and then killed them. When I was a child, I was once afraid of seeing a man with a bushy beard because of this story, but Lord Viscount Edmund found out After having my nurse tell me fairy tales at bedtime, he thought it a useless act of manliness, and announced at our meal that he was going to drive my then nurse away.

I remember my nurse kneeling down and begging that if she was driven away, the children of the family would all starve to death, and the Viscount said, "Oh, but what does that matter to me?" Never saw the nurse again, and never heard anyone speak of her again.

"That's not a casually made up story," Earl Ian said slowly, deliberately in that gloomy tone, "Did you see the portrait next to it? If you look carefully, you will find their common characteristics. "

they?Aren't the portraits here all of the same person?

I turned around to look at other portraits. Beside the wedding dress painting, there were two other portraits of the same person but with different clothes and postures. One of them looked like a prom attire, with thick long black hair braided into it. Braids are coiled around her head, decorated with flowers and feathers, and another is a very casual afternoon tea dress; a little further on, there are portraits of different women, one is a woman with light black curly hair, wearing a light blue dress. A woman in a British-style toga with a somewhat reserved look, one is a proud beauty with a high black bun and a gorgeous evening dress with a long skirt; Holding the Bible, a gentle and elegant woman.

When I was observing the portraits of these women, I suddenly realized something, and when I looked back at the bride in the first wedding dress painting, I finally knew what I had overlooked—these women all had black hair and brown hair. The only difference lies in the depth of the color, which made me think at first that all the portraits of the same person were placed here.

——My hair and eyes are also black and brown. Thinking of what Ian said just now, "all the portraits of dead people are placed here", this discovery immediately made me feel uncomfortable all over.

"Who are they?" I asked, trying to escape the strange discomfort.

Earl Ian changed his posture and bent one foot.

"They're all people who have a very close relationship with Elvis, just like Beatrix has with me," he said, in the tone of a witch threatening children, "but now they all It’s already dead, why, Ludwig, haven’t you noticed? Your hair and eyes are about the same color as theirs. Let me tell you, Elvis likes this so-called black color that’s rare in England. Brown-eyed beauties, and when he gets tired of them, he kills them, or abandons them to the woods, as Bluebeard did in the story."

"Perhaps as you said, the beauties in these portraits have unfortunately been called by the Lord, but my lord, you must know that you will be convicted if you slander the character and integrity of a noble at will, even if it is yourself brother."

Ian haughtily hummed a contemptuous "ha" from his nasal cavity, probably because he felt that lying on the ground was not enough to deter me, so he stood up from the ground, walked around the picture frame on the ground and walked out .

I took a step back vigilantly, but I still couldn't stop him from going crazy—I don't know if I was stimulated by my backing, Ian suddenly stepped across the distance between us, like a nimble hunting dog catching a rabbit , grabbed my arm easily, and then pushed me to the picture of the bride who was as tall as a person.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

I struggled so hard that I almost knocked over the heavy frame.

"Quiet!" Ian whispered impatiently in my ear, and the deep-rooted fear he had brought to me before came back immediately, making me dare not move easily.

He seemed to be satisfied with his deterrent effect on me. He pressed my neck firmly with one hand, forcing me to look at the portrait of the bride at a close distance. From such a distance, I could even see the diamond necklace on her neck clearly. down to the tiniest detail.

"You don't believe it—then let me tell you the cause of their death. This one died from taking highly poisonous chromium."

He said, and gave me a firm tug, leading me to a second portrait of a woman in a light blue English tunic.

"This one, Miss Isabella Miller, died of typhus at the age of twenty-one."

In the third picture, the black high bun is covered with diamonds and tropical bird feathers, and she is as delicate and beautiful as flowers.

"This one, Miss Irene Field, died of pneumonia from the cold."

The fourth picture is a gentle and elegant talented woman.

"This one, Miss Alice Wood, broke her neck while riding and died at the age of twenty-two."

Behind these four portraits was a blank frame, and Ian rested his chin on my shoulder and said in a menacing tone: "Did you think this was for you? Wrong, Ludwig, Yours is still in the back. This is for Miss Mary Stoker who is in the forest now. Three days before you came here, she was sent to the forest by Elvis alone. If If you don't think what I'm saying is true, you can ask him where Miss Mary Stoker is now."

The beauties in the painting have their own characteristics, and it is precisely because of this that Earl Ian’s behavior of introducing their causes of death one by one is even more unacceptable. I angrily tried to break free from his imprisonment: "Please Enough is enough, I won't believe a word you say. You and Lord Elvis are both honorable earls of the Haggis family. If you have any dissatisfaction with Lord Elvis, you can directly say Come out, such insinuations are neither personable nor amusing at all."

Ian let out a "ha" in disbelief.

"Your reaction really made me sad. Aren't the portraits of these beauties who were by his side but are dead now displayed here? After all, I knew you before that guy. I kindly remind you You were careful about him, but you chose to believe him instead of me without even asking for proof, which really made me so sad."

"If your intimidation hadn't revealed the biggest flaw, then I might have been fooled by you. After all, your performance is comparable to that of the best clown in the theater, Lord Earl."

It's rude to compare a nobleman of noble blood with a clown that people make fun of, but I couldn't resist giving him that stab.

Ian put on a posture of listening attentively, but he still didn't let me go.

"Where do you think there is a flaw? You might as well tell it and listen."

I glanced back at the beautiful painting of a teenage bride.

"The flaw is in that painting—My lord, I remember that the Williers family is a famous noble family in England. A lady in their family married into the Haggs family in the New World 28 years ago. That is to say, what you said Miss Louise Williers was the mother of you and Lord Elvis, the previous Countess of William. I believe that the people in these portraits are indeed dead, but it is not often that people are easily killed by disease I believe their deaths have nothing to do with Lord Elvis, you are just trying to confuse the public, just like Miss Louise Williers is indeed very close to Lord Elvis, but you can't Said that Lord Elvis killed his mother? Isn't this the biggest flaw in your fabricated story?"

Proficiency in reciting the genealogy of nobles from all over the world is a basic skill for a qualified nobleman—although I didn’t hear the surname of the lady Ian mentioned before, but I just need to recall the pronunciation and the marriage situation of the Haggs family to infer that The real identity of the woman in that painting is not difficult.The only thing that puzzles me is that since Miss Louise of the Williers family has married into the Hagers family, she should be called Mrs. Louise Hagers. As her son, Earl Ian When addressing her, she still used her surname before she got married.

After expressing my conjecture, Ian didn't speak for a while. I thought he was speechless by me, so I looked sideways.

At that moment, I almost thought I was wrong.

——The expression on Ian William Higgs's face is like the dark clouds before the storm, very gloomy and terrible.

However, that expression disappeared very quickly. I just blinked my eyes, and Earl Ian became the usual cynical playboy again.

"Ludwig, little Ludwig, you always surprise me, although your cleverness has never been used in the right place."