Okay, fine, I'll post one more chapter. Hopefully this will provide some answers..

Please, please, review and favourite/follow! I can see you sneaky people reading my story but not saying anything. Tell me if you like my characters (I have to say Callum is one of my favourites) or my style of writing... and if you find any of this funny, because some of it is meant to be.

CALLUM

I felt a flicker of irritation at her confidence. How dare she make such ridiculous statements when it was plain that she was my Elena, my princess? I was unwillingly aware, however, of my admiration for the way she was acting – as if she were equal to my parents, not far below them, which only supported my conclusion.

"I don't understand," said my mother helplessly. "Who is she?"

"Helen," and "Elena," said the two of us at the same time. They were similar names. Too similar for coincidence. This must be an act, a huge practical joke on her part; why else had she not thrown herself into my arms the moment we'd met?

"Come here, child," my mother said kindly to Elena – she was Elena – pulling her into the light. Gently she tipped the girl's face up to look into it, and I felt a stupid surge of jealousy. I didn't want anyone else to touch her. She was mine, whether she admitted it or not. I waited for the Queen to exclaim, to cry, to ask the Princess where she had been; but instead she looked across at me with doubt written all over her face.

"Callum…"

"What?" I said defensively, foreboding making me nervous. "Can't you see? Isn't it obvious? Her eyes, her nose – "

"Well, I suppose it could be," said my mother doubtfully, and I felt the first stirrings of panic. No, this couldn't be right. It had to be her. Otherwise I would have to face the knowledge once more that I had lost her, and that didn't bear thinking about. "Callum, are you sure this isn't wishful thinking?"

I was about to begin a heated reply when the girl in question spoke up. "Please can you stop talking as if I cannot hear you? Your majesty, I am deeply sorry for your loss, but I am not your son's betrothed. I have lived in a village in Falecia all my life. I have a family and friends there and I am certainly not a lost princess!"

It was my father's turn to intervene. "Your mother is right, boy. This is probably nothing more than a coincidence of looks and wishful thinking. How long have you lived in this village, Helen?"

I clenched my fists. This was ridiculous, and I opened my mouth to say so, but the girl turned and gave me such a searing look of disapproval that I thought better of it. "Ever since I can remember," she told my father.

"And how long is that?"

She froze as if she'd fallen into a trap.

HELEN

It was questions like this that I always dreaded. Questions about the past. People seemed to be obsessed with the past, with memories. I hated them, because I could never answer.

In a way, it was like being crippled. But instead of having lost a limb, I had lost a huge chunk of my life. It was as if I had come magically into being at the age of sixteen. In some ways, I didn't miss anything, because I didn't know – had never known – what it was like to remember my childhood or my early teens. But from another perspective, it was as if there was a huge empty space in me, where memories should be. As if I hadn't lived for more than half of my existence.

You don't have to answer the King, I told myself. It's none of his business, anyway. He doesn't need to know. I did not like telling people about it, because they would almost invariably treat me differently afterwards. George was the only one apart from my family who ever just took me as I was. He'd never awkwardly skirted round the issue as others did – Don't think about George now. Focus. I missed him too much still to be able to think of him without a pang.

No, I didn't want to talk about it, but the King was waiting for an answer, and I was possibly the world's worst liar. I lifted my chin and answered him.

"Four years."

I felt rather than saw the prince's excited movement, but his father lifted a hand for silence and continued to stare at me with a spark of interest in his eyes.

"And why is that, Helen?" he asked calmly. I suddenly had an image of myself telling my parents and Bobby that I'd spoken to the King and he'd addressed me by name. They'd never believe me! But I could see, now that his initial anger was over, that the ruler of Nabol had a kind face, and he was clearly prepared to listen to me.

"I had… an accident when I was sixteen, and I lost my memory. I can't remember anything before then."

The prince bounded forward. "Then that proves it!" he exclaimed.

I scowled. "It doesn't prove anything!" I snapped, before remembering that he was a prince. Oh well, I thought. Judging from the look on his face, no one had ever spoken to him like that before, and it was about time someone took His Arrogancy down a peg or two! "My family were moving to the village, and I ran ahead, and there was a runaway horse and cart on the road… It hit me and flung me into the ditch." I winced as I remembered waking up, the bruises and cuts all over me, my entire body stiff and burning with pain. I'd had a high fever for two weeks, my parents told me, and when I woke up, I didn't recognise anybody… "Your majesty, I beg to return to my duties. This is a waste of your time."

CALLUM

Memory loss. That explained everything. Why she hadn't recognised me, why she hadn't believed me… Although, too, I realised with an aching heart, it meant that she knew nothing of me, of us, of what she had meant to me. Her explanation did not convince me.

"Wait! How do we know that's the truth?"

Elena – Helen – she turned to look at me, and the hate burning in her eyes made me take a step back. "Who are you accusing of lying? Me or my family?"

"Woah, there, calm down!" I said hastily, hating the way her eyes looked without the soft smile in them that I remembered. "I didn't mean – "

"Yes you did," she shot back. "How dare you talk about my family that way?"

"I didn't – "

"And even if I was the Princess, don't you think I would have remembered something by now? Do you think that I would stay a servant for one moment more if I honestly thought I had a duty to rule a kingdom?"

I had no answer and I wanted to be angry, but I suddenly realised how this must look – a Prince, more than six feet tall, being confronted by a tiny maid and backing down before her – and before I could stop myself, I chuckled. Unfortunately this did not help the situation. Her green eyes blazed fire and she marched to the door.

"Stop," I called, with such authority in my voice that she did actually halt. "We can't take the risk. Am I right, your majesties?"

Unwillingly, my father nodded. "I'm afraid he is, Helen. If you were the Princess, your real parents would never forgive us for not checking properly. You cannot continue with your duties until we have written to your parents in Falecia and checked the truth."

"But what will become of me until then?" She sounded so weary that I wished I could take her in my arms, Princess or no Princess.

The king and queen exchanged glances. "You will be our guest," said my mother eventually. "We cannot allow you to work as a servant if you are not one." I was probably the only one who heard the unspoken acknowledgement that if she was not a princess, she should not be treated as one, either. "Come, Helen, I will show you to your rooms. We will call you Helen until we know otherwise." And without a backwards glance, she swept the girl out of the room.

Left alone with my father, there was an awkward silence. I knew he had forgiven me for my earlier display of bad temper, but also that I was expected to apologise.

"Father, I'm sorry about earlier. I will fulfil my duty as you expect me to."

For a moment he stared at me sternly, then the mask cracked and he began to laugh. "You cheeky scoundrel. You know perfectly well that until we know whether that's Elena, no betrothal between you and anyone else can take place. All right, you rogue, get along with you."

Grinning, I departed, but when I was at the door he called me back. "Callum." I looked up at him. "Callum, don't set your hopes too high, will you?"

Because I'm too lazy to PM: Bloody Phantom, hopefully it should be a bit more clear now. I know it's very obscure at first and the fact that Helen never mentions her amnesia seems suspicious, but if you look at it from her point of view, she doesn't like to talk about it or even to think about it. She's got used to it so she wouldn't bother mentioning it in her own thoughts or to anybody; hence why it doesn't come up til now.
Colbub: I hope this chapter is bearable :P
SmellofRoses: why yes you did call it. But I'm not going to answer your question... just wait and see ;)