Abigail Montgomery was a failure, or so the giant red 'D' on the top of her latest history exam seemed to dictate.

          It wasn't fair. She spent the entire week studying for the stupid test and this was all she had to show for it. The injustice was enough to make her wonder why she even bothered. Because if you don't get a scholarship you're going to be stuck in this shitty town forever.

          Why was her inner self so much sassier than she was? If only she could channel some of that inner-bitch into the outer world. Then maybe she'd find herself sitting on top every now and then instead of crawling around on the bottom hoping for just a glimpse of how the other half lived.

          Honestly, Abby wanted to crinkle it up and toss it into the nearest trash can, but her teacher was insistent that she have her mother sign it. Abigail wasn't sure what good that was going to do. Her mother didn't care about her grades, or if she turned in her homework on time. All Abby's mother cared about was being bothered, especially by anything having to do with her 'biggest mistake'.

          Abby's mother wasn't one to hold back, especially when she'd had a few drinks in her system – which seemed like all the time these days. She had made it quite clear on several occasions that Abby was the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

          That Abby had ruined her life.

          When she was younger, hearing these things really hurt, after a while Abby developed a skin so thick that she barely felt the sting.

          "Watch it, Montgomery," a voice called out and she stopped just shy of running into her best, and only real friend, Adam. She wasn't sure when exactly they had become friends, but he had been the one constant in her life for as long as she could remember. He was the only one who didn't judge her for having a drunk for a mother, the only one who didn't invite her to birthday parties at the skate rink out of pity, and the only one who didn't tease her behind her back because she lived in a rundown trailer park.

          "Sorry," she said as he fell into step beside her.

          "I know you're a klutz, but that was intense, even for you," he said, peering down at her.

          "I was distracted," she replied, holding up the paper for emphasis. He took it as an invitation to look and pulled it from her hand.

          He took one look and let out a low whistle. "I thought you said you studied?"

          "I did! For hours," she exclaimed. "I don't get it – what am I doing wrong?"

          "Falling asleep on your book and learning through osmosis does not count as studying," he retorted, taking a good look at the paper. "Well, first off your penmanship is horrible... does that say donut?"

          "What?" she said, snatching the paper away from him. "Where?"

          "I'm just teasing," he laughed. "Chill."

          She frowned and punched him in the arm. He staggered to the side, exaggerating the impact. As a result he bumped into a group of passing girls. They shot him a few dirty looks before moving on.

          "Now who's a klutz?" Abby asked, sticking her tongue out at him.

          He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Abigail, you and I both know you'd win that title hands down."

          Abby shot a glare in his direction. She hated it when he called her that; not Abigail itself, but just that almost mocking tone he used when he did it. He chuckled again and shook his head.

          "So sensitive today," he chided. "I know what this calls for. Extra cheese, greasy pepperoni, two-for-one Wednesday down at Papa Tony's."

          As tempting as it was to procrastinate, she knew it would be better if she got the paper signed sooner rather than later. Besides, if she waited too long her mother may not be coherent enough to hold a pen.

          "Can't, because I'm a failure," she said with a heavy sigh. "Gotta get the she-beast to sign this before she's too drunk to remember how to spell her name."

          Adam grabbed the paper out of her hands again. "I'll sign it," he said.

          "No way," Abby replied, trying to take it back. He pulled it just out of reach.

          "Come oooon," he insisted. "It'll be just like old times."

          When they were younger, Adam had made it a hobby to forge her mother's signature. It started in the fourth grade with a school field trip. The trip was to the zoo and Abby wanted to go so badly that she cried her eyes out when her mother refused to sign the permission slip.

          Adam spent two days practicing the signature and when they were confident it was close enough he signed the real deal. They were terrified to turn it in and she remembered the expression on her teacher's face as though it had happened yesterday. Adam was positive they got one over on her, but Abby was still confident that the teacher had known. Forging a signature and getting busted when you were a kid was one thing, they might get a slap on the wrist and a call home. At their age the punishment would be much more severe.

          "I'll just suffer through the moment," she declared, finally getting her hands on the paper and pulling it from his grasp. "Then I'll move on with life."

          "If you insist," Adam replied with a heavy sight. "See you later then?"

          "Yeah, catch you later," she called after him, waiting until he disappeared around the corner before turning and continuing on her way. It was moments like this, when they parted ways, that Abby wondered how they'd stayed friends all these years.

          Adam was an average guy, made friends with relative ease and had a smile that melted hearts. His shaggy red hair made him stand out in the sea of blond and brunettes that populated Walden High and simply added to his charm. Both his parents had those 'community service' type jobs and were involved in everything. All in all, they seemed to be the poster family for middle class Americans.

          Abby couldn't have been more different. Her father died when she was five, in a car accident out on Old Millers Road. Her mother had been a heavy drinker prior; but losing her husband had made it a hundred times worse.

          Not long after she lost her job, mostly because she was too drunk to show up. From that point on they scraped by on the generosity of the U.S. government. The only community service her mother did was offer an endless stream of business to every liquor store in a ten mile radius.

          Even then things hadn't been all bad. Back then, she still had her grandfather. He'd come to visit and bring her treats and toys. She loved to climb into his lap and listen to him tell stories of his life after the war.

          He'd take her for ice cream on Sundays after church and every Thursday they'd go see a movie at the old theater before it finally shut down. It didn't matter though, because her grandfather died not long after and Abby was left with no one.

          No one that cared anyway.

          There were times when she wished she was an orphan. It wasn't all that far from the truth. At the very least, if she was an official orphan, she'd have the chance to find a family that cared – as improbable as it was for a girl her age.

           Sixteen and broken wasn't exactly what the prospective parents marked when they were looking for a kid they wanted to call their own.

          "Hey, Abby," a voice called out to her. She looked up to see Ms. Tanner waving from her back porch. She waved back, surprised to realize she was nearly home. She'd been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn't paid much mind to here she was going.

          Ahead of her loomed the tall wooden fence that surrounded Summerville Trailer Park – home sweet home. Abby eased two loose boards aside and let herself inside. It was a short cut she'd discovered a few years back. At first, she'd just used it to avoid walking by the front office when rent was due, now she just used it out of habit – and because it was quicker.

          Sort of.

          The route from the fence to the trailer she inhabited with her mother was riddled with traps and pitfalls. After making her way past Jangles, a rather violent sounding ankle biter kept at bay by a short chain, she had to get past the obstacle course that was Ms. Rosewoods 'yard'. Her children never put anything away and Abby had nearly killed herself on more than one occasion tripping over a toy hidden by overgrown grass.

          Once clear she had one more potential hazard – Mr. Williams. Normally, Abby didn't view the elderly man as a problem to be avoided, but on days like this (when she just wanted to be home) she dreaded seeing him sitting out in front of his trailer.

          Sure enough, as she peeked around the corner she caught sight of him leaned back in a dirty old recliner he loved more than life itself. She didn't want to think of the animals that had, or still did, call that old chair home. It belonged in a dumpster – or on a burn pile. She was about to duck back out of sight when something else caught her eye.

          A brand new, shiny green vehicle was parked outside her trailer.

          Odd. Had her mother finally won the lottery? How'd she get a car so fast and why the hell had she brought it to this place?

          If Abby had the means to buy a car, any car, she'd be halfway across the country by now. Stepping out into the road, she started towards her home. Distracted by this unexpected sight, Abby forgot all about Mr. Williams, until she'd passed him by and he called out to her.

          "Been here the better part of an hour," he called, causing her to pause.

          "The car?"

          "Yeah, and the two folks, that done brought it," he said. "Looked mighty official, your mom didn't go and get herself into trouble with some mafia sorts did she?"

          Abby sighed and shook her head. "No, Mr. Williams, there's no mafia around here," she said with a smile. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out what's going on." He smiled, and Abby hurried towards the trailer.

          Official looking?

          Was it the government? Were they here to arrest her mother for tax evasion?

          "Hello?" she called, dragging the door open and stepping inside. "Mom?"

          "Here she is now!" Her mother exclaimed, hurrying to greet her at the door. "Abigail, sweetheart, we have company." She pulled Abby into an awkward hug. Had her mother lost her mind? It took Abby a minute to realize it was just for show. Before she pulled away, however, her mother spoke, her voice a hushed whisper.

          "Is there something I need to know, Abby?"

          "Unless they're here because I failed my history exam then no, I have no idea," Abby replied, extracting herself from the hug. Her mother reeked of cheap perfume and cigarettes. Setting her backpack down on the kitchen table, she stepped around the corner and into the living room. There were two people, a man, and a woman, just as Mr. Williams had said. They stood when she entered and offered Abby warm, broad smiles.

          "What's going on here? Who are you guys?" she asked, looking between the two of them. The woman stepped forward and held out her hand.

          "Abigail Montgomery?" She asked. Abby nodded, taking her hand and shaking it lightly. "Very good. My name is Vanessa Cartwright. This is my colleague, Jasper Langton." The man stepped forward and extended his hand as well. Abby took it, shook it, and then retreated a step.

          "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" Abby asked, racking her brain to try and remember what she'd been up to the past few days. She'd rocked a vending machine to shake loose a snack that had gotten stuck, she didn't think anyone had seen. Was that a federal offense? Vanessa smiled and shook her head.

          "No, of course not. In fact, as a representative of the Sovereign Nation of Savarria, it is I who should apologize."

          "Savarria? You mean that place that grandpa always talked about?" She glanced towards her mother who looked as though she had seen a ghost.

          "We've been searching for you for many years, tracking you down after your grandfather died proved rather difficult," Vanessa continued. "It was always the Grand Duchess's wish that you attend the best schools and receive the finest training-"

          "Whoa," Abby said in disbelief, "wait a sec... who?"

          "The Grand Duchess, her Royal Highness Camilla Delafontaine," Vanessa explained. "Grandmother to the Savarrian crowned prince."

          Once again, Abby looked at her mother. This time she was looking for some sort of affirmation regarding what was being said. Like before, her mother seemed at a loss for words. The woman also refused to look at her.

          "I still don't understand what that has to do with me," Abby replied at last. "Why would a woman, a duchess, on the other side of the world care about me?"

          The woman seemed surprised. "You weren't told?"

          "Told what?"

          "Enough!"

           All three of them turned towards Abby's mother in surprise. She was standing there with her hands balled into tight fists. Her eyes were wide with anger, her mouth twisted in a snarl. If looks could have killed all of them would have been dead on the spot.

           "Excuses me, ma'am," Vanessa began. "But I am under strict orders—"

           "I don't care about your orders, or anything else you have to say! This is my house, and this is my daughter," her mother screamed. "Now get out and take your lies with you!"

          "Mom! Stop it! Calm down," Abby snapped, trying to keep the situation from spiraling completely out of control. "I want to hear what they have to say."

          "I'll tell you what they have to say! Nothing at all! Your grandfather was an old fool, Abby," she yelled. She turned towards the slacked jawed representatives. No doubt they had never experienced such a ridiculous outburst from a grown woman. Abby was used to it. "I don't even have the ring anymore! I sold it years ago just to feed this ungrateful brat. Now get out! Get out of my house right now!"

          Abby grimaced, not because what her mother had said had hurt her in any way – she was used to hearing such accusations. It was more because these people had to hear it.

          "I'm really sorry," she said as the two made a hasty retreat for the door. Abby tried to follow, she wanted to hear what else these people had to say, but her mother grabbed her arm and swung her around until she blocked her path.

          "Don't even think about it," she snapped bitterly. "You and me? We're in this boat together, baby, and there isn't a damn thing you, or those two idiots can do about it."