The princess and the totally and completely unnecessary bodyguard

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Park

Earlier today, I had been forced to run an extra mile during our physical education period, I had called my professor a stuck up porcupine and would forever remain a lonely hermit after he told me that I didn't "run right." Needless to say, he had been rather upset.

Things worked out fairly well in my favor. Our class was filled with rather fit students, so the two miles had been completed ahead of schedule, allowing students to give themselves a twenty minute break. I had twenty minutes to run an extra mile.

One of the girls had brought a magazine with her--the very magazine I had been dying to get my hands on. I can bet you all know what I did next.

It was after school and my peers were swarming all over the grounds, chattering excitedly about homework (this school was severely deranged). I sat all alone in the outside ampitheater, staring down at the plastic stacks of glossy paper.

Six years I had successfully lived as a normal teenage girl. Only one person had ever figured it out, but we shut her up before she could reveal the truth. Not one other person had been able to hold up a picture of the princess of Cimeria while looking at me and figure out that I was actually the princess of Cimeria.

So either I'm remarkably clever, or this academy is really just moronic. I'm not willing to bet on the latter, though.

Logan took one swift look to glance at my two identities and said four words that shattered my mind. "She looks like you." Curse you, Cross, for having super enhanced eyes. The next time I see that boy, I'll be sure to recommend him towards the path of a detective.

My skinny fingers flipped through the pages until they landed on a page dedicated to the young princess of Cimeria. Frustration soared inside me as I tried to understood how he saw the resemblance. I mean, that's what my wig is all about!

Okay, wigs don't always work. In my defense, it worked for Hannah Montana, alright? If she can be an international pop star and a normal teenage girl, and be the "Best of Both Worlds," then why can't I?

I had worked so hard to look different my royal self. The fire engine shade that sat on my cranium every day was bright enough to prevent a car from hitting me in the dead of night. I work a lot of make-up. When I say a lot, I mean a lot. I was two inches away from the line that would take me to going Goth.

I had fake files, passports, ID's as well. When I came to Cross Academy, I had been sure to spread the word about Park Sparrow's story. She was a young girl, with a brainy personality and no money. The headmistress had taken pity on the poor girl and gave her a scholarship into the academy.U

Of all the people to notice a likeness between the princess and I, it just had to be Logan Cross, didn't it? What if he started talking about it? The rumor would spread like a wildfire, roaming through a dry forest with no remorse.

The more people that knew, the more I was in danger. This was so not good. I needed to find a way to shut Cross up. Should I arrive to school wearing pigtails or glasses? Dye my hair blue? This was all Cross' fault, my mind fumed.

A buzzing came from my backpack. Lazily, I dug it out, and received a message from my dear father.

I had moved to Paradise, Montana six years ago. My father moved with me, to give me more authentication on my story. He and Mother had divorced several years ago, because my father had been under the impression that my mother was no longer safe as his wife. But as the danger subsided, the future king of Cimeria proposed once more. Now they were to be wedded--again.

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