[Zongyingmi] She is a princess and not sick

The only thing that can be attacked by Francis is his identity as the leader of Alexander, and almost no one can criticize the others.

Magnussen, a bluffing man, is afraid that he doesn't understand the Alexander organization.

Not everyone can challenge Alexander's authority.

"One has ambition only if one has ambition." Francis looked at Magnussen with a smile, "but ambition is nothing but a joke if there is no rival force."

Attalus served black tea, brewed a cup for Francis, and passed the other cup to Magnussen, who then stood quietly behind Francis.

"I don't know who gave you the courage." Francis narrowed his eyes and looked at him calmly. "You know you can still jump here, just because people like you are still useful."

When Charlotte's text message came, Francis glanced at it, raised his eyes and looked at Magnussen's glasses with a half-smile: "Bring such an ordinary plain mirror to me to bluff."

Francis grabbed Magnussen's hand and slammed it hard on the coffee table. The black tea on the coffee table was shaken and overturned, and the black tea flowed down the coffee table and dripped onto the floor.

Magnussen's face became distorted in an instant, and his bodyguards wanted to step forward when they saw this. Attalus took out a gun and a knife, one against his head, one against his throat, his eyes were fierce, like A wolf, if these two people do something wrong to Her Royal Highness, he will rush up and tear them apart without hesitation.

Francis grabbed Magnuson's hand with one hand and strangled his throat with the other. A storm was brewing in her blue eyes. She approached Magnus and sneered: "You are really brave, Mr. Magnus, Please allow me to praise you like this. I believe that your target should not be me, but McCoff, right?"

Francis exerted a little more force on her hand, and heard a crisp sound from Magnussen's hand. She smiled: "Since Moriarty's death, any cat or dog has dared to come here to challenge me. Always There are such ignorant people to provoke. Do you really think that being the princess of England is the reason for me to sit on the head of Alexander? What a naive intelligence tycoon. Let me tell you the rules of the game, dear Mr. Magnussen. "

She tightened the hand holding Magnussen's neck slightly, watched him blushing, and admired his breathless look: "You can only create rumors. Mr. Magnuson. Trust me, and I Can make things that make your life worse than death. There are a thousand ways to go to God in the struggle to survive. Trust me, you will not want to touch my family, this is my advice to you."

With a flick of her wrist, she threw Magnussen onto the sofa, stood up slowly, and turned her head to tell Attalos: "See off the guests. The Casablanca Manor will not accept such guests next time, remember? , Atta?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

After Francis crushed Magnussen with force and influence, she went upstairs to take a shower, after which she made a phone call to McCoff.

"Do you know Magnussen, Myc?" Francis opened with a symbolic question, "This man really disgusts me."

"He came to see you?" Mycroft frowned, and he lowered his voice to his wife on the other end of the phone, with a gentle tone, "You haven't rested yet."

"I was getting ready. But Magnussen's target wasn't me, it was you, Myc. Now he knows I'm Alexander." Francis sat on the bed and frowned, "Then I broke his hand bone, I should. Alexander's people will take over from him. But I don't think it's right."

McCoff said nothing about his wife breaking a bone in Magnussen's hand: "I'll take care of it. What you need right now, get some rest."

"I've slept in Baker Street." Francis said helplessly, "I want to read a book for a while before going to sleep."

"Okay, I'll be right back after get off work."

"Ok."

After Francis dried his hair, he went to the study. Attalus came out of the study, still holding the book "Murder on the Cliff" by Agatha Christine. He was slightly surprised when he saw Francis. : "Your Highness, do you need a book?"

"Oh, I just came to read the basic physics book to solve the problem." Francis was in a much better mood after talking on the phone with McCoff, "The leech is gone?"

"White hair will send someone else to deal with him, please rest assured, I don't think he will set foot in this manor," Attalos said.

Francis nodded and said to him, "Go and have a rest too."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Francis went to the study and read Hawking's "A Brief History of Time". After a while, she felt sleepy. She went to the room behind the study and took a nap. After McCauf got off work, she just woke up, Attalos Poured her a glass of juice and brought it up.

Mycroft walked over and kissed her hair: "How are you resting?"

"That's right." Francis raised his eyebrows, "I sleep a lot during the day, and I can't sleep at night. The juice made by Attalos is good, do you want some?"

Mycroft nodded, and Attalus immediately poured him a glass and left the study.

"Well, the white hair told me that Magnussen intends to control England's politics." Francis put the water glass aside and approached Mycroft, "Can you handle him?"

Mycroft told Francis not to worry.

"He did know something, but he didn't have conclusive evidence." Francis shrugged and said, "Charlotte told me that Magnussen's glasses are just decorations. He probably has the same memory palace as you."

"But not everyone is Sherlock Holmes." Mycroft rubbed her blond head and said, "Don't worry about him, he's just a clown."

Francis exposed the matter of the leech, and only sent Baifa to monitor him. If there is any wrongdoing, he will be eradicated immediately.

But what she didn't expect, Magnuson found Sherlock, and Sherlock was shot in the building where Magnuson worked shortly thereafter.

Francis rushed to the hospital immediately after receiving the news. Sherlock was in the operating room for rescue, while Watson stood helplessly outside, and Francis ran over.

"John, how is Sherlock?" Francis gave Watson a hug to comfort his frightened heart.

"Not long after he went in, I stopped his bleeding..."

"It's ok. He'll be fine. Mycroft has sent the best doctor over here." Francis couldn't believe what would happen after telling Helena.

Francis, in turn, comforted Watson, telling McCoff that she was in the hospital and reassuring him to go about his business.

Sherlock's operation lasted for about seven or eight hours. At dawn, the operating light finally went out.

When the doctor came out, he smiled at them, and Francis was finally relieved. At this moment, Mary also rushed over.

Francis left the space for the couple, and she went to the ward with Sherlock's push bed, and when she saw Sherlock lying so quietly, she suddenly thought how sad it would be for the person who didn't recognize his brother's accusation.

She reached out to hold Brother Xiong's cold hand, and squeezed his hand vigorously: "Sherlock, what do you want to do?"

After Sherlock was shot, Francis originally wanted to find out the truth of the matter, but Mycroft objected to it. She watched her husband standing by the window smoking a low-tar cigarette, his expression blurred in the smoke. clear.

"It's something he has to go through, and he needs to grow, just like you, Eric."

Francis put her arms around his waist from behind, wrapped her belly around her hands, and pressed her cheek against his broad back, and said, "All growth needs to shed a layer of skin, and it will hurt. You Are you really willing?"

"Magnussen is a good whetstone," Mycroft said, turning around to embrace his wife. "Don't worry, Alec."

"Sherlock's recovery ability is like a cockroach. I am worried about Helena. She must have shed a lot of tears for this." Francis feels sorry for his Mother-in-law, she is a good woman, wife and mother .

Mycroft couldn't help holding his forehead. He received a lot of calls from his mother, and most of the time she walked over the phone and cried.

As the youngest, Francis couldn't help laughing when she saw McCoff's expression, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the chin: "Oh, who made you the eldest son. My dear. By the way, why didn't you See Attalus?"

"Alexander has something to deal with, and he needs to go there to deal with it. He has left Ingra now." Mycroft said, pursing his lips, "He asked the black-haired Clitus to come and protect you."

"Oh, can you stop treating me like a child? Myc, remember when I beat up that top assassin on Baker Street?" Francis resented that everyone treated her like fragile glass.

Mycrof glanced at his wife helplessly: "Can you stop calling me Myc?"

"You can go and correct Helena first." Francis said with a smile while hugging Mycroft's arm, "By the way, Christmas is coming soon. What have you prepared for Richard and Helena?"

Christmas was a nightmare for McCaw.

It was the longest day of the year.

Especially when you are with your family.

Francis noticed McCoff's unbearable expression, and couldn't help laughing: "Okay, let me prepare. You can handle all the goldfish in the world, but you can't handle your parents, my dear British government."

"It's not something I can choose." Mycroft turned his head and kissed Francis on the cheek.

The author has something to say: I really feel that, as a brother, McCoff is also a great brother.