"Are you coming to Alfred's party on Saturday ?"

If Katyusha had a penny for every time she's been asked that over the course of the past week, she'd be a fabulously wealthy woman. But the coins do not magically appear in her purse and her answer does not magically change either. It's a "no" and will remain a "no."

Of course, as polite as she is, she styles her answer to a more cordial "Nah, I'm not really a party person," or a "I think I'll pass on this one. You have fun though."

But that's not exactly true.

It all comes down to the fact that it's Alfred F. Jones hosting the event. She has absolutely nothing against him, he's a sweet boy, sure enough. But he's not on the best of terms with her brother Ivan. She herself has a somewhat strained relationship with her brother, and he's probably hoping that she'll spend the weekend at home.

She's more than capable of speaking her mind and standing up to her brother, but she knows it'll cause her an undue amount of grief to make a stand for a party she's not even so keen on going to. So she kindly brushes off the invitations to save herself the stress; she's far too young to even risk gray hair.

But her resolve all goes out the window when it's Elizabeta Héderváry asking the question.

If she were a more flirtatious soul, perhaps she would wink and promise to attend as long as Elizabeta is going. But she is not a flirtatious soul, she's Kat. She's only capable of channelling Casanova in her head, and out loud she can only bluff and suggest that all the talk around school has gotten to her, convincing her that maybe the party will actually be fun.

She may not be a Casanova, but Elizabeta is brazen enough to warrant a comparison. Delighted with Kat's R.S.V.P, she dons a cheeky smile. "So you're definitely coming ? For a while there, I thought the rumours that Alfred has plans for a game of spin-the-bottle had scared you off. "

Now she's definitely coming.