Tellers of Lies [UNEDITED]

Chapter 2

Isha

"Miss Sen, are you dating Prince Calix?"

"How is he in real life? Like, is he as cold as the news channels describe him as, or is he a total softie?"

"How does it feel, dating a royalty?"

"Will you become a princess now, Miss Sen?"

My grin trembles at the constant, out of the context from our subject-matter, questions from my students. They are sixteen. Of course, they will be interested in their teacher's love life when news of her being in a relationship with Prince Calix spreads all over Syncitia within a short span of time.

This past week has been a mess already. I did take a week off from school and locked myself up completely in my apartment. I had to ultimately leave my safe abode when I remembered I was a teacher and my flatmate told me off for being a coward rather than going out there like the brave lady I am. Easier said than done. A week has passed, yet the buzz on social media hasn't died down. Thankfully, the public hasn't gotten the address of my residence yet.

"Let us put the unimportant questions aside and focus on "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe, please." My grin intensifies, hoping the teenagers will receive the notion, how not willing I am to answer their questions.

"But Miss Sen—"

"No 'buts' Evelyn. Read the first stanza, loud and clear, please."

Thankfully, my students are obedient. They do not press the matter further and begin to focus on the class. The brunette haired girl stands up with her text book and opens her mouth to narrate the poem.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—"

A loud commotion occurring outside, catches our attention. I motion Evelyn to continue reading and the other students to focus on the poem. Meanwhile, I make my way to the windows of the classroom. My eyes widen when I finish sliding open the glass window.

Swarms of news reporters have gathered around the school. Furious crowds follow suit, demanding an answer from me, while the guard and some teachers try to stop the mass of people from barging inside the institution grounds. The classroom I am in, is on the third floor. I wonder what would have happened if it were on the ground floor. Immediately shutting the windows close, I take a minute or two to catch my palpated breathe.

"Is everything alright, Miss Sen?" one of my students asks when I make my way to the teacher's desk. Sweat from nervousness trickles down my spine. I give a subtle nod before glancing at my smartwatch.

"I'll send one of the substitute teachers—"

The students groan. I can't help but smile seeing how readily they enjoy my company and the class, simultaneously. But I have more pressing issues to take care of and not a steady brain at the moment to focus on Edgar Allan Poe.

"I am feeling under the weather kids," I smile ruefully, "Just for today, alright?"

"Yes, Miss Sen." Grumbling answers echo.

I smile once, before exiting from the classroom. I need to visit the principal's office. Now.