Bianca

“Is that true, Bianca?” my father asked, looking at me suspiciously.

His shocked response echoed in the room, mingling with the tension that hung thick in the air. He knew me well enough to know that I would never have such thoughts about the prince. I was sure he was going to support me.

“Will I be lying to you, Peter?” my mother said, holding his hand. I stared at her. She was trying to manipulate him into believing something that wasn’t true. “Your daughter told me that she fancies the prince. You’re the king’s childhood friend. If you tell him about how your daughter feels, I am sure...