Two.

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Wren climbed through her bedroom window, a tangle of vines clinging to her hair and clothes from the outside garden trellis she'd just scaled. She hit her knee on the sill, wincing and barely holding in a curse as she tumbled to her beige carpet.

Wren quickly righted herself despite the throbbing in her knee from hitting the window on her way in. Then her lamp light suddenly flicked on, bathing the room in a soft apricot glow. Wren let out a petrified scream when she realized she wasn't the only one in her room.

Her mother Amelia stood glaring down at her and Wren's heart nearly jumped out of her chest it gave her such a fright.

Getting caught sneaking out was number one on the list of top three most dreaded things that could happen to Wren.

"Mom, hey," Wren winced, the casualty in her tone not at all aiding the situation.

"Where have you been, Wren," her mother seethed, her Australian accent thicker than normal when she was particularly angry.

Wren didn't resemble her mother. She held most of her father's qualities in terms of looks. The dark hair, the fair skin, and even his short stature. Her mother on the other hand was tall and lanky, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. The blue eyes were the only thing she inherited from her mom. They both had the same striking blue iris that made people stare when they were out in public.

Limping over to the bed Wren sat down and gave her mother a sheepish smile.

"Would you believe me if I said I was out with friends?"

"You don't have any friends," her mother quickly quipped.

"Excuse me, I do too have friends."

"Sang is your bodyguard, Wren. And I'm going to be having a word with him if I find out he help—"

"He didn't. He didn't even know I left the house," I quickly said, covering for him. Sang was going to kill me when he found out.

"You've been to that club again, haven't you?" Her mother's eyes narrowed, reaching out to take the duffle bag out of Wren's hand. "What have I told you about fighting."

Wren put a hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was lay down and dream about the money she'd just won. Lectures from her mother could go on for hours. She could only hope this ended quickly.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just can't let go of what I love so easily. I know you hate it, but no matter how many times you tell me I'm still going to go." Wren gave her mother a stern look, showing her that boxing wasn't going to just go away because they told her she couldn't do it.

"It's unladylike. And if anyone found out about your little hobby it would taint our family name."

"There are plenty of women boxers out there that have great reputations."

"But they are not a government official's daughter! Fighting doesn't fit into that description no matter how much you wish it could."

Wren glared at her mother, wishing so badly that for once she would just listen to her.

"I guess we'll have to agree to disagree then."

"Ugh," her mother lifted her hands in exasperation and began pacing the carpet. "I don't know how to discipline you, young lady. I'll be talking to your father about what your punishment will be. But as for right now, get to sleep because you have a dress fitting tomorrow morning."

"A dress fitting?" Wren's jaw dropped open. In the list of top three things she dreaded, shopping was second on the list.

"This weekend we have to go to a party to discuss the World Expo 2030 in Busan. There are a lot of promotional campaigns that will be going on to promote Busan and your father wants you there to greet members of the BIE who will be attending."

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