Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!

---Walter Scott
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Agility has always been my pride and joy, but the swiftness with which I reacted in the course of the next few moments, amazed even me. Within  seconds I'd draped my head and the majority of my face, Persian style, with the scarf which had been dangling limply around Evangeline's shoulders. I deferred the series of questions which I knew were sure to follow, by digging my nails into her hand, conveying my desperation. She squeezed back, indicating her understanding, and I immediately took advantage of her compliance to my notorious endeavours, by slouching down, feigning unbearable abdominal pain. The teacher was quick to excuse us and ushered us towards the medical room. Evie tucked me into the crook her arm and we all but ran out of the premises, caring little about the disclosure of our fraudulence.

Taking Evie's car from the driveway we rushed towards my new rental appartment, which my friend gazed with admiration.

"You sure must have shit loads of money to afford this place. Where do you go for your part-time again?"

I grinned despite my recent misadventures, and lied through my teeth. "Nowhere. Just to look after my grandmother's little bakery. She left it to me in her will."

"Hmm.", She mumbled, unconvinced, and smoothly slipped into a comfortable position on my couch, to demand explanation. I sighed.

"The man you saw today, had unpleasant dealings with my father a little while ago. Let's just say things were uglier than I can explain. I didn't want him laying his eyes on me."

She nodded in understanding, her innocence stabbing a nail of guilt in my heart. I couldn't promise that I wouldn't lie to her again given my situation, but I prayed that we steered clear of situations where I would would be forced to abuse her confidence in me.

We spent the time we'd cheated off the schedule, bonding. Though it seemed like we'd know each other forever, I'd been here only a few days, with little time to hang out and enjoy with friends. I enjoyed being my age for once. Talking of crushes and pimples and periods, the last two with unsurprising amount of disdain. She flashed the screen of her cellphone in front of face, and exclaimed,

"Don't tell me you still haven't seen him! This boy is literally the most beautiful thing about our school."

I scanned my critical stare across the form of Eliot Black, the boy, who, I'd come to realise, held Evie's affection. Though he wasn't attractive in the sense I appreciated, he still supported striking features, and a cheeky boy persona, which reflected just how he'd stricken my friend's fancy.

"He looks terrific, love.", I expounded with the sole purpose of keeping her heart. I would do a personal vigilant survey of his personality later.

"What about you? Do you not like someone?"

I looked at her, stunned. No one bad ever bothered to be involved in my personal life. I did not have a mother, or a sister, or a female friend, to speak my heart out to. But that didn't have to be the case anymore. If I did not have anyone, it was probably because I'd never allowed anyone to get close enough. The realisation stung, but I regarded it as a step towards better efforts. The fear of betrayal was eminent but a life of solitude wasn't worth living. Sighing, I layed my head on her lap and stared at the ceiling.

"He's so beautiful Evie.", I began. She ran her hand through my hair, urging me to continue.

"It was a few months ago that I crashed into him, literally fell into his arms at a wedding, and I've been completely enamoured by him ever since. As he twirled me around the dance floor, I felt all the fairy tales I'd heard from my mother, come true. He truly is a prince, Evie, and I thank God everyday that he found me."

"Are you still in contact with him?"

I smirked. "We are engaged."

She squealed. "No shit, seriously? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. You are engaged??? Oh shit, engaged! ENGAGED!! Why am I hearing of this only now. Who is he? How does he look? Where does he live? What does he do?"

I giggled.

"His name is Johnathan Knight, he lives in Lancaster, and he's got his hands in all sorts of businesses."

Her mouth dropped open.

"Say WHAT? You are shitting me right?"

I laughed and threw my phone at her. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of my favourite picture, which I'd put up as my wallpaper. I was sitting on Johnathan's lap, while Diana's little form was seated on mine. Her infectious smile had me grinning wildly, as my fiance regarded us both with a gentle smile. It was a stunning photograph, and my heart ached with longing every time I looked at it.

Evie smiled softly as she gazed at my phone, and then hugged me tightly.

"My goodness, Hera. You make such a beautiful family."

I giggled again. I realised I'd been giggling an awful lot, in this girl's company.

"We do. Do we not?"

She nodded proudly and declared, "Absolutely. And you'll make an excellent Duchess too."

I groaned.

I would have to be his wife for that! Being engaged did not mean we were planning to go through with the wedding. It was the means to the end. Not that I was interested in being a Duchess anyway. It was too much hard-work.

"Oh, come on. Shouldn't you be exited? Your future hubby is next in line to the fucking throne!!! And I am the future queen's best friend. Holly shit! Oh, fuck! Hera, I loveeeee you!!! We are friends for life. Don't you ever fucking dare leave me."

The two of us laughed together, and continued our senseless banter. Soon, Evie was asleep, and I would have followed suit, when my phone tringed.

I absent mindedly grabbed a hold of it, to check the new message, and froze.

Hello, Sweet.

Surely the years apart couldn't have been enough for you to lose your mind and peg me for a fool. Not only was your little plan at an escape a pathetic mockery of my intelligence but a demonstration of your own inaptitude. To think that you would have grown out of your childish incompetence! Alas, you still remain a child of mine, unworthy or not, and it's time I put you to some use.

You'll see me soon.

Drop the thought to flee. You never were good at it anyway.

Love,
Father.