Anabelle Anderson doesn't just want revenge. She wants an entire revolution.
* * *
When 17-year-old Ana returns to her hometown for senior year, she vows to crush the powerful and dangerous clique that exiled her. Armed with a disguise and a step...
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Once upon a time, there was a spy who thought she could seduce the king.
She had seduced the general and a soldier before him. How much harder could the monarch himself be?
But the general had turned out to be an overzealous, lustful jester, the soldier nothing more than the pitiful town fool. Winning their affections wasn't as hard as the spy thought it would be. After all, she was their wager.
Still, the spy's eyes were on the castle, her mind dancing with the possibilities of what could be — what would be. Out from the chains of his cruel, cheating lover, finally free from the shackles of a false love, the monarch was in her reach. The stars were aligning. The king and the assassin; the gods themselves had fated it.
So why, then, was the sullen ruler yet to spare a single glance her way?
X X X
"Pizza's here!" Richie announced from the foot of the stairs. "Are you alive in there? I've called you three times."
Three times? Was I really that accustomed to being addressed as Elle?
I jumped off my bed groggily. "I'm alive!"
I ran to the bathroom to scrub off my makeup, my pores screaming under the thick layers of contour. After the day that had transpired under Kirsty's (hopefully temporary) rule, I welcomed the chance to be free from Elle's world for a night.
Though peace is hard to come by for those with a longing heart.
"The Bachelor?" Richie asked as I joined him in the lounge. My mother worked late at the studio on Thursdays, and Bachelor re-runs had become mine and Richie's weekly tradition. Yet, suddenly, watching multiple women compete for the affection of one man hit a little too close to home.
"Is there anything else on?" I sulked.
Richie tilted his head suspiciously. "It's the final dates. And they hinted at a huge catfight last episode..."
For someone who apparently hated The Bachelor, he sure sounded invested.
I sighed, quickly wishing that I hadn't. Why did I sound so damn forlorn?
"Fine," I conceded.
But that did nothing to ease Richie's suspicions.
"What's wrong, little one?" he asked, handing me a slice of pizza.
I shook my head. No, I was not about to confide in my stepdad about my boy troubles. Even without the whole oh, by the way, I'm undercover as a whole different person part, that discussion had 'awkward' written all over it.
Richie frowned, but he gave in. If there was one thing that my stepdad was good at, it was balancing his paternal instincts with his ability to give me space when I needed it. He scooted next to me silently and pressed play on the remote.
