The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy



"Wait, seriously?" Ben asks, leaning forward and giving Tony a friendly shove on the shoulder. "I thought assassin track was a myth!"

"You're supposed to think it's a myth!" Tony says, laughing and turning towards Ben. "That's how it stays a secret."

“Wait, so, what do you do all day?" I ask, leaning forward towards him, fascinated. "You just learn to...kill people?"noveldrama

"It's like being somewhere between Warrior and Espionage," he says, turning his eyes back to me, "but with less studying and more fighting. After all, you're being trained to sneak into places and steal information; I'm just trained to sneak in and kill."

"And should we be worried about that?" Rafe says, folding his arms across his chest and further narrowing his eyes at Tony. "An assassin in our midst?"

“Nah, I'm a patriot," Tony says, turning to Rafe with a shrug. “I'm on your side - you can check with the Captain if you want. They put me through all kinds of interrogation and personality tests before teaching me how to sneak around with a dozen knives hidden on my person."

"A dozen?" Jackson asks, turning to Tony with surprise and letting his eyes slip over his person, clearly wondering where they all are.

"He's only got pockets for ten," Daphne says, dry.

"Hey, I can put two in one pocket," Tony says, laughing and grinning her way.

I turn and smile at Daphne, sitting up straight. "Can you put some in my uniform?"

"Sure," she says, laughing with a shrug. "That will be fun - and in your other clothes too, for when you're a spy out in the world."

Conversation loosens then, breaking out into smaller groups as Daphne and I discuss possibilities for hidden pockets in ballgowns. The boys pour over the results a little bit more, going over the fine details of the rap sheet, and we all eat the mountains of food on the coffee table and that keep coming up in the dumbwaiter. Luca keeps all of our little paper cups liberally filled with whiskey and the evening passes warmly, with lots of laughter and celebration.

A little later in the evening I light the fire, standing up and grinning at the little flame that I lit all by myself, without Jackson's power bolstering me. I sigh happily, looking around at my friends sprawled about in little groups, talking. Rafe and Daphne are on the couch, having a friendly chat, while the rest of the boys gather on the floor talking about...whatever the hell boys talk about. Luca separates himself from the group and comes over to me by the fireplace, bringing the bottle of whiskey and pouring a little more into the cup I raise up to him.

"Very proud of you," he says, slipping an arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze.

"I'm proud of you too!" I say, grinning up at him. "I saw the details, you know, and even though everyone's making a fuss out of me and Tony getting the most kills you crossed the largest amount of distance in the fastest time."

"Yes," he says, fighting his proud smile and tightening his arm. "I am fast, like lightning."

“Like a gazelle," I sigh, leaning against him.

"Gazelle...that's not sexy," he murmurs, and I laugh when I look up, seeing him frown. "I'd rather be lightning."

"Lightning's not sexy either," I say, waving a hand to dismiss the point. "But, I'm proud of you. I mean, yours actually took skill - I just laid on my belly and let the rifle do its work."

"Ah, don't do that, gorgeous," Luca says, planting a little kiss on the side of my head.. send a little anxious glance Jackson's way, knowing that we promised these displays of affection wouldn't happen, but his back is turned so...I guess it's all right.

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning up at my mate.

"I mean that you're underplaying your skill," he says, shaking his head at me. "You've been working your ass off getting good at that rifle, and you're naturally a good shot. None of the rest of us could have done that. So accept the praise, and the

ranking. You earned it, top girl."

I blush a little, looking down at my cup, quite pleased at the idea. "Thanks, Luca," I say, chuffed and happy.

“No problem, fancy little shrimp." The dumbwaiter bell rings again – honestly, what else could it be? Luca hands me the bottle of whiskey. "Here, you take this I'll check on that."