London, England.

After the twilight of dawn, the day gradually arrived. The mist rose above the Thames River, gathering and dispersing shapelessly over the river surface, and spreading along with the heavy dewy air of the valley all the way to the hills on the south bank of the river.

The ancient castle that had stood on the hill for a hundred years was solemn and majestic, and it was extremely quiet because it was still early in the morning. It appeared even more eerie in this thick fog.

Here was Windsor Castle in England, one of the oldest castles in the world and the only one still inhabited to this day. The descendants of the Windsor family remained here as a symbol of the medieval times once.

Catherine had left the window open when she went to sleep last night. So when she first opened her eyes, she almost thought she had gone blind - after all, everywhere she looked was pure white, and the structure and furnishings of the room were only vaguely outlined. Moreover, she had a very unpleasant quarrel with her distant cousin before going to sleep last night. The other party viciously cursed that she would have her eyes gouged out by the devil so that she would stop staring at others rudely.

However, when she became a bit more sober, she realized that it was just the ordinary thick fog in London.

Just as she closed her eyes and was being self - deprecating, a soft and sweet familiar female voice came from beside the bed: "Cathy, you forgot to close the window again last night."

Catherine opened her eyes. Her mother, Evelyn, was sitting upright at the head of the bed, looking at her tenderly and smiling, and her hand gently stroked Catherine's long brown curly hair that was scattered on the white pillow.

Perhaps because of the thick fog, her appearance seemed somewhat unreal.

Catherine closed her eyes and replied, "I forgot. I didn't have time." Her mother's hand gently brushed her cheek, and her voice was soft: "Are you in a bad mood? Did you have a conflict with Amber?"

She wrinkled her nose, turned over and lay on her side, and pulled the ribbon around the waist of her mother's long dress back and forth gently: "Yes. She said I'm a wild girl with no mother to teach or discipline me."

Perceiving that the hand gently stroking her back stiffened for a moment, Catherine propped herself up with her hand and looked at her mother's downcast eyes: "But you're right here, aren't you? You've always been with me."

"Yes, I've always been here." Her mother brushed aside her hanging hair and gently kissed Catherine's forehead.

At this time, a polite knock on the door sounded. It was the servant on duty coming to inform that breakfast was ready.

Catherine quickly got herself ready and, following her mother's advice, chose a simple tawny sweater to wear and went to the dining place downstairs.

Before she had even finished arranging the napkin in her hand, Amber's caustic taunts arrived as expected: "Hey, Cathy, I heard voices in your room when I just came downstairs. Who were you talking to?"

Windsor Castle was good in every aspect except that it was not very sound - proof because of its age, which gave Catherine a headache. However, before Amber's family moved in under the pretext of being distant relatives of her mother due to business bankruptcy, Catherine hadn't realized this at all.

But she didn't plan to thank Amber for helping her gain a better understanding of Windsor Castle because of this.

If possible, she would rather never have known.

Seeing that Catherine didn't answer, Amber was not bored at all. Instead, she became even more excited: "Oh, I know. It must be those invisible friends of yours again, right?"

"That's my mother," Catherine said, crumpling the napkin in her hand into a ball, and her delicate eyebrows knitted together.

Amber pulled a contemptuous smile. Charles, who was nearby, couldn't help laughing when he heard Catherine's words. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and said to Catherine's father, "Isidore, you really should take our poor Cathy to see a psychiatrist. You can't always spoil her and let her decide not to go just because she says so."

Isidore sighed, put down his cutlery, and took Catherine's hand: "Baby, I told you not to say that anymore."

"I know you're sad, and I feel the same way."

"But you should know that your mother left us because of illness when you were six. You have to learn to accept it."

"Promise me, okay?"

Catherine couldn't say no to her father, so she could only nod obediently. While listlessly poking at the food on her plate, she thought:

Mom must have heard upstairs, after all, the sound - proofing here is really not good.

I wonder if she's sad to hear these words?

Anyway, I'm very sad.