The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy Chapter 78

I cock my head to the side, wondering what it could be, but then the smell hits my nostrils and I groan, reaching immediately for the covered tray which I now realize holds some delicious dinner, but Rafe just laughs and swats my hand away. “That’s too heavy for you,” he says, smiling at me cheerfully and lifting the whole silver tray out with his big hands, balancing it carefully as he maneuvers around me. “You get the drinks.”

I scowl a little as the food moves away and my stomach growls – I didn’t realize that I was starving. But I cheerfully grab the pewter pitcher and the little metal cups that come along with it, surprised to see that there are five, not three, as I’d have expected.

Still considering the strange number, I wander over to the couch area in time to see Rafe lift the cover from the tray. “Five!” I say, slipping over the back of the couch so that I’m sitting next to Luca, leaning forward with interest. “How did they know – I mean, Luca just got here –“

“I left a note,” Ben says, looking up at me and shrugging. “Asked them to please send mine here. I didn’t think you’d mind. I guess Luca did the same -”

“Who cares,” Jesse murmurs, reaching eagerly for a plate and a set of silverware rolled in a white napkin. “Seriously, why are we still talking? Everyone shut up and eat.”

I just grin and start to pour the glasses of water and hand them around.

“Wish it was something a little better than water,” Luca murmurs when I hand him his cup. “We’re celebrating, after all.”

I grin a little, sitting next to Luca on the couch and considering that though he might be right, I’m a little glad that we’re obliged to keep sober tonight. With a few drinks in me and him looking like that? I’d probably have to sit on my hands to keep myself from reaching out and stroking his face.

“What are those?” I ask, noticing some folded up pieces of paper in the corner of the tray as Rafe hands me my plate. I balance the dish on my knees as I dig in to my meal – steak, roasted potatoes, green beans lathered with butter, fresh brown rolls. A shiver goes through me when I realize how amazing everything tastes.

God, food really is better up here than it is in the barracks. I had no idea we’d be living in relative luxury – candidacy really lowered my expectations.

But after the bath I took this afternoon and the evening meal tonight? I think I’m going to like life in the Academy.

“I don’t know,” Ben murmurs, and he leans forward to grab them off the tray, as he’s closest. He takes a bite of his meat as he sorts through them, unfolding the one with his name on it. “Oh, schedules!” he says. “Class schedules, for tomorrow and the rest of term!”

There’s a great clattering of forks, plates, and words as we all eagerly reach forward, desperate to find out – because beyond our class schedule, this paper is also going to include information on our educational track.

And this I am particularly dying to know.

I put my unfinished plate on the floor, still chewing a crispy piece of roll as I snatch my schedule from Ben and eagerly unfold it. My eyes flick over my false name at the top, take in the spreadsheet of class information at the bottom, and…

There.

Right at the top of the sheet, in small letters below my name:

Espionage Track.

I let out a little squeal of delight, falling back into the couch cushions and kicking my feet in excitement. Luca laughs, looking over me, pleased to see me pleased –

And I go a little still, sitting up straight, trying to be just a little less girly. But still, I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

“Get what you wanted, Shrimp?” Luca asks, leaning sideways to bump me with his shoulder as, beyond him, Rafe and Jesse shout with joy, snatching their schedules from each other and comparing their schedules.

“Yup,” I say, my smile growing. “Did you?”

“Sure did,” he says, holding out the schedule so that I can see it. “Warrior Track.”

I grin at him, taking the schedule and looking it over. “Ohhh,” I say, noting that he’s got a 7 am workout scheduled tomorrow and every other day this week, “you have to get up early.”

“What, you don’t?” he asks, reaching for my paper.

I squeak a little, appalled, and hold it to my chest. “You don’t get my secrets that easily, Luca Grant.”

“Oh, don’t I?” he asks grinning and raising one eyebrow.