Twenty-Four
My removal from the palace was done in the dead of night. They didn’t want the photographers there, or anyone else to notice the presence of members of The Guillotine. I was picked up by a familiar face.
My Professor.
He stood, leaning against his car, waiting for me. “Your majesty.”
I stared at him. “You knew?”
“I had my suspicions,” he said, “did you get my message?”
He was, of course, referring to what he had written on the chalk board. “I did.”
“Didn’t exactly have a way of warning you. Didn’t know how much you knew either. But I knew your Mother, and I would know her daughter anywhere.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You were friends with my Mother?”
“Of a sort,” he said, “anyway, you’ll be staying with the Love’s.”
I frowned. “As in, Gable Love?”
He nodded. “
