The Royal Genius

In the depths of a modern, urbanised city, in a lively neighbourhood, there lived someone, probably the most mischievous person in the area. She was an unbeatable force of wisdom and trickery, but that's what the rumours are…

Who really was she?

She was walking along a road, wearing casual clothes, the wind blowing at her hair. A boy was walking towards her, a vengeful expression on his face. He stopped right in front of her, which made the girl stop too.

"You stole my watch," the boy said.

The girl narrowed her eyes lazily, and said, "You stole my watch."

A confused expression crossed the boy's face, who was much taller than the girl. "What? No. You *stole* my watch," he repeated.

"What? No. You stole my watch," the girl said.

The boy grunted in anger, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, started to laugh. "Okay, tell me, please. Where is my watch?"

The girl smiled shortly, and repeated his words yet again. The boy was very much annoyed, but at the same time, he found this extremely funny. He puffed his cheeks and walked away, letting the girl continue on her path. As she walked by, she found a piece of paper lying on the ground, folded neatly into a square, at the top of which these words were written:

*For you, Princess.*

The girl furrowed her brows, and took the letter. She opened it to find something inside. Something that was written for her by someone whom she knew, whose handwriting she could recognise, and if those weren't enough evidence, the content in it was more than satisfactory to deduce who it was.

An idiot.

*A really funny dare paved the way*

*For us to meet; I'll be honest,*

*I was sniggering all the time, but*

*I went along with it, and was*

*Nevertheless flattered by the praise.*

*You are a princess, you just told me*

*You are also a goddess, as every woman is.*

*Though you are one of a kind, completely*

*Different, completely unique; of course,*

*That's in a good, positive way.*

*I am fascinated by the power of friendship*

*It's something to which one can really grip.*

*I really love you as a friend*

*And I hope we are till the end.*

*That's cheesy, but that's also real.*

*Quirky, funny, incredibly wonderful,*

*And independently very powerful.*

*Your writing skills are colourful*

*Never are you ever untruthful.*

*You are so very wonderful.*

*As the sparkling star called the sun rises,*

*You rise along without disguises.*

*Ready to start a glorious new day.*

*And not at all bothering the way*

*In which you go, you start your play.*

The girl folded the paper, put it in her pocket, and continued on her way, her reactions about what she just read known to none but her. She was that secretive, yet very open and enthusiastic.

She remembered what had happened yesterday, when her brother had unintentionally hurt her feelings, and instead of telling that, instead of crying out, she turned out rude and hostile to him for a few hours, until her sadness had subsided. She didn't want to feel weak and cry, didn't want to show that she was affected by what he said. He, after all, meant it just for fun, and she should take it sportively. She did, but in her own way.

Soon, she reached the shop where she'd plan to go. Quickly buying all the vegetables that had been gifted to her, and using the leftover money to get herself some samosas, she exited the shop, smirking, taking bites of what she'd just bought.

As she walked back, she took from her pocket something else, something small, compact, something which had three hands and twelve numbers on its face. She had decided to keep it back in the place from where she'd taken it, feeling that the fun of what she did was over, and that it was time to do what was right. She wasn't cruel. She did something for fun, but knew her limits.

She was a really interesting person, very difficult to read, yet very easy...

-Maniacal Writer