"Quick!" yelled the Queen, "Get into the closet!" Before we could even think, we were stashed like teddy bears in a cramped closet. "What's going on?" cried Isabella. "Shh!" whispered the Queen. Isabella fell silent. I watched through the crack as three knight-like soldiers marched into the beautiful throne room. "The Governess, Clairideen!" they announced. It was hard to stay silent when I saw who the Governess was. Great Aunt Claire! "I sense the chosen ones." she said to the Queen. "Well?" questioned the Queen innocently. "I thought we made a treaty to leave them alone!" she snapped. " I do not have the chosen ones." persisted the Queen. "Not at all!" confirmed Nym, "In fact, they are currently not in that closet, and not in this castle!" "Are you so sure?" asked Clairideen coldly, "Why don't I check?" "You can't! Uh...Isn't my word enough! There is not any children in that closet! Positive! Sure!" fretted Nym. "Well I think that.." started Clairideen, "Your Governess," interrupted a guard, "It's time for your pedicure!" As my Once-Great-Aunt-Now-Enemy stalked off, she looked at Nym and the Queen and said, "It's not over. It's just started"
I'm glad that Clairideen is getting a pedicure. There is nothing worse than a Governess with bad feet!
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