Secrets: a short story

I haven't told anyone I know that I've started a blog, so I figured I'd write you all something about secrets. Also I couldn't find anything on my computer that I've written that's short, finished, and satisfactory. One day I'll post what I wrote in creative writing club on Monday, as I said I might yesterday, but today is not that day. I'm quite scared of posting my first short story or piece of writing or whatever, to be honest, mostly I'm nervous that anything I post will be really, really terrible... so if you can't say anything nice, then please don't say anything at all. I'll get the message. :)

This is off the top of my head so I apologise in advance for its shortness and possibly how rubbish it is, depending on how this goes. But in the meantime I've posted some stuff of my FanFiction and FictionPress profiles, the links to which are on the sidebar-y thingy on the left. This story includes characters from a longer story that lives only partly in writing and mostly in my head, and this is not something that takes place at the beginning, but that doesn't really matter for the moment. :) So, please enjoy! Feel free to comment if you have any... erm... comments... but please don't be too mean because that won't help anything at all. :)

 The walls were beginning to close in around her, a sea of white paint drowning her under its waves. She had been here weeks now. It was not a small room, most certainly, but that did not stop the feeling that it was a cell - for that, she supposed, was what it really was. A glorified prison cell. The paintings and the clean bathroom and the comfortable bed couldn't fool her, not when she was trapped without a single window.
 It was driving her crazy. But maybe that was what they wanted.
 No. She knew what they wanted.
 Secrets. They thought, why would she tell us things if we locked her in a damp cell and didn't feed her? But their kindness only made her suspicious. She had known what they wanted right from the start. Why steal the king's daughter and hold her at ransom when they could get more for the king's best advisor? Besides, her family wouldn't have left her this long. They would have paid. Her father, her brother, her sister-in-law, Cody... No. They couldn't know where she was, not if she was still here.
 She rubbed at her wrist, the skin paper-thin. She could see her veins. Her veins told stories, but only to her. There had never been a time she was more glad of that. If anyone else heard the stories her veins had to tell, they would hear secrets that weren't hers to tell. Her father's secrets. Her brother's secrets. Her friends' secrets. The court's secrets.
 The fact that others couldn't hear the stories her veins told was the only thing that kept them from knowing she had been feeding them false information all this time.
 She might have been the most trustworthy person she knew, but oddly she was finding that she was a very good liar.