I shrug a little, letting him see through my summer camp lic. He justughs, shaking his head as we


    draw close to our targets.


    “Bullshit, if you ask me,” the tall blonde says, sighing as he gathers his arrows off the floor and I pull


    mine from the target’s body. “We’re forced to embarrass ourselves on the first day just because we


    haven’t trained in an antiquated form of weaponry? I mean honestly, who even uses archery anymore


    on the battlefield?”


    “I don’t know,” I say, popping my arrows into my quiver as we turn around and start back. “I see the


    logic in being able to handle all weapons.”


    The blonde shrugs, conceding the point but clearly expressing that he’s still not happy with it. “I’m


    David, by the way,” he murmurs.


    “And I’m Hai,” the other says, nodding to both of us.


    I smile at them, but we’re all lost in our thoughts about how to improve as we make our way back to the


    line.


    “Again,” says the Captain, nodding. We all get into our stances and raise arrows to bowstrings, ready to


    fire.


    The Captain has us going for hours, until my arms ache from drawing my bow. As we fire round after


    round, he works with each of us, giving more basic pointers to the other two and working with me to


    refine my shot. By the end, I hit the bullseye with consistency, and I can’t keep the smile from my face.


    At the end of our four–hour ss, the Captain tells us to return our bows, his face nk. We do as he


    says as he gives us instructions for how and when to practice, letting us know that this gym will be


    avable to us twenty–four hours a day and suggesting that we make use of it. My smile deepens at


    the prospect – I like marksmanship, always have. The idea of having this be my homework, when I get


    sick of Chemistry?


    God, does that sound like a relief.


    As we finish hanging our bows the Captain tells us we’re dismissed and we troop for the


    O


    door, me goingst as I stack my arrows neatly in the quiver, probably being more picky than I need to


    be.


    As I turn towards the door, I’m surprised to hear the Captain’s voice call to me lightly.


    “I’ve got quite literal money on you this year, rk,” he says, leaning against the wall and giving me a


    little smirk. “Don’t make me regret it. I don’t like to lose.”


    “Really?” I ask, turning to him with wide eyes.


    “Surprised?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.


    “By the fact that you’ve bet on me, or by the fact that the professors actively gamble on the sess of


    their students?” The words fall from my lips before I have time to consider them, but to my relief the


    Captain justughs, pleased.


    “Not with the other professors,” he says quietly. “With some old friends who have a stake in the


    Academy itself. Though I do admit,” he says, cocking his head a little, “I was surprised when your Uncle


    Roger didn’t take the opportunity to bet on his own nephew. Didn’tment at all when he saw your


    name on the list of Marksman cadets.”


    I do my very best to keep all emotion off my face as the Captain studies me, and I wonder again how


    much he knows.


    The result is that I awkwardly stand stock still in front of him, saying nothing for far too long. The


    Captain just grins, shaking his head andughing as he lifts his chin towards the door. “Get out of here,


    Cadet. Good work today – keep it up. Don’t embarrass me.”


    I nod, eager, and head out.


    Because even if the Captain knows my secret, or is starting to suspect? He’s clearly not pushing me to


    reveal anything.


    I hurry out of the ssroom and down the hall. I have an empty afternoon next, so that I can study for


    our Chemistry ss tomorrow, and I’m on strict orders to head directly back to the rooms with no pit


    stops. Rafe, predictably, flipped out about the idea that I’d be walking through the castle by myself, but


    even Jesse had taken my side and told him he was going a bit overboard with the protective stuff.


    I’m a cadet, after all. If I can’t even survive walking from the ssroom to the dorm, what chance do I


    have on the battlefield?


    I consider that, a little, as I head for the brass elevator at the end of the hall, climbing in and pressing


    the button for the dormitory floor. Because today, in Marksmanship, I considered for the first time –


    perhaps naively that we really are being trained forbat.


    –


    I don’t know why I hadn’t really thought about it before – perhaps I’m just na?ve but…I don’t know.


    Something about running obstacle courses and getting ss schedules and learning the chemical


    makeup of poisons had made it seem…theoretical. Part of a game, and a ss, rather than preparation


    for the real world.


    But today, shooting real weapons?


    This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    I don’t know – something about it made me really realize that…I’m being trained as a weapon myself.


    And that I’m going to be asked to kill people.


    Especially if I be a sniper, as the school clearly hopes I will be. Am I prepared for this? For the


    reality of looking down a scope at a human being, and pulling the trigger?


    A shiver runs through me as I consider it, and honestly I don’t know what the answer is to that question.


    I gnaw on my lower lip, troubled by it, as I cross the hall and head up the winding stairs to our top floor,


    stillpletely distracted as I work the key in our door and push into our room.


    The only thing that breaks me out of my reverie is the…silence.


    –


    I look up and around the room suddenly, and realize that actually for the first time in weeks I am…


    completely alone. Likepletely alone not just in absence of my brother and my cousin, but by


    myself.


    And a grin takes my face, even despite my troubled thoughts.


    I push the door shut and lean back against it, heaving a long sigh. I’ll talk to Rafeter, I decide, about


    my bigger questions of what it means to be part of a military organization at


    war.


    Because right now, for a few minutes? I am going to just be alone.


    +5


    I immediately indulge, whipping my hat from my head and then stripping my shirt off, dropping it onto


    the floor before working at the sp of my pants, stepping out of them as I walk towards the couch in


    my stupid boys underwear and the chest–ttening sports bra Daphne made me, my hands already


    unbraiding my hair so that I can run my fingers luxuriously against my scalp.


    I sigh, copsing onto the couch, my mind shing – just a second hands felt in my hair, however


    briefly they touched it. But then I scowl at myself, and sigh, – to the way that Luca’s and will my mind to


    turn elsewhere, desperate to think of something else.


    Because Luca – he’s being so weird. I mean, at least he didn’t blow my secret at breakfast, but what


    the hell is he doing, pretending it never happened?


    I mean, is it possible? That he…actually forgets? We forget dreams all the time, but the dream state…


    it’s different, right? I, for one, remember everything.


    But it was my dream – Alphas, they’re just the guest stars. Could he really have forgotten…


    – –


    I groan, and shake my head, realizing that I’ll never know.


    But that tonight, it’s my turn to corner him and make demands of my own. I absolutely need to know


    what he knows, and what he’s got nned if, indeed, he has figured out the secret that I’m a girl.


    And not just a girl – the nation’s Princess, and his mate.