Chapter 231

“You must work very hard, little bird,” Blaze says, smiling at me. “And even then, it will take time to master.”

“I will,” I say, nodding again. “I’ll work very hard!”

“Tonight, then,” he says, bobbing his head. “Here, after your Chemistry class. We will begin.”

I express my thanks eagerly as I get to my feet, holding out a hand to shake Blaze’s, but to my surprise he holds out his arms and wraps me in a warm hug. I laugh and return the gesture. He steps away after a moment, heading towards another door in the room, as Faiza comes to my side.

“He’s cool, isn’t he?” she says, looking after him, fond.

“Did he teach you?” I ask, curious.

“He still does,” she says with a sigh, turning to smile at me. “You never really finish learning – not quite. Plus, obviously, he can still kick my ass as easy as breathing.”

I laugh, shaking my head, hardly able to believe it. “All right, come on,” Faiza says, looping her arm in mind and tugging me towards the door to the corridor. “Time for part two.”

“Part two?” I ask, curious because…well, honestly, because I thought that was it.

“Yup,” she says, giving me a devious grin. “Evenings are for Blaze – mornings on days that you have Chemistry? Those you spend with me.”

My eyes go wide because…I mean, I assumed Faiza was going to be teaching me the martial arts alongside Blaze. What else could she actually be assigned to teach me?

As we walk swiftly through the halls at the base of the castle, Faiza peppers me with questions, asking about my hobbies as a kid and what sort of things I’m good at. I tell her about my years of ballet, and etiquette classes, and how much I’m looking forward to switching that all up by becoming an expert marksman.

“All of that is good,” Faiza says, pulling a key out of her pocket when we reach a rough, dark wooden door. She deftly twists the key in the lock and pushes the door open, revealing a comfortable office with a bunch of boxes inside, as-yet unpacked. “But time to get down to the really important stuff.”

“Important stuff?” I ask, stepping in and sitting in a chair that she waves me to as she presses the door shut behind her.

“Yup,” Faiza says, tossing herself into the armchair across from me and lounging in it with one leg over an arm, studying me from head to toe with deliberate interest as I sit across from her. “The real question is…how good are you at seducing men?”

For what feels like the thousandth time that day, my mouth falls open.

And Faiza bursts out laughing.

My throat clicks as I try to find words, just staring at her, and Faiza – still laughing – smiles so gleefully at me that her eyes crinkle into little half-moons.

“Oh man, Ariel,” she says, shaking her head at me. “You are too cute – this is going to be way too easy.”

“Y-you know who I am!?” I gasp, staring at her.

“Of course I do!” she says, still laughing and shaking her head at me. “If Neumann hadn’t told me who you were before I got here, I’d have figured it out in an instant. You hang around Rafe Sinclair, you look identical to your mother, and you make absolutely no effort to move like a boy. Honestly, Ariel, it’s a miracle you were able to fool anyone, let alone a whole school.”

I blush terribly, looking down into my lap, and she clicks her tongue.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” she says, and I look up when I realize that her tone is genuine. “I mean, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. You have actually done amazing here – it’s just been very easy on you that apparently all the Alphas in this school are idiots who can’t put two and two together.”

“Not all of them,” I say, my shoulders straightening as I get defensive.

“Oh yeah?” she says, the corner of her mouth quirking. “And which ones of them are clever?”

“All of my boys, as you call them,” I say, leaning towards her, my eyes narrowing a bit. “Are clever.”

“And which ones are…yours, Ariel?” she asks, tilting her head, her face at once gleeful and daring.

I sit up straight, realizing what she’s asking. Not knowing how much to say.

“You should trust me,” Faiza says, giving a half shrug. “This all goes a lot easier if there aren’t any secrets between us.”

“Well, that’s fairly biased logic,” I say, leaning back in my chair, studying her. “All you do is produce a piece of paper with my favorite professor’s signature on it, show me a fancy bit of hand-to-hand, and then suddenly I spill all my secrets?”

“So, you’ve got secrets then,” she says, closing one eye as if doing so will help her see me better. But then she laughs, leaning forward. “I actually like that you’re kind of cagey – I think it will make you a better spy. Damn,” she says, shaking her head at me. “I’m really glad dad got me here. I’m going to enjoy the hell out of transforming you into an agent. And the best part is that not a single person will ever see you coming.”

“Dad?” I ask, sitting up straighter in my chair, not understanding.

But the door opens again, and suddenly all of my questions are answered as Neumann steps into the room. I huff a little laugh, looking between the two of them as Neumann presses the door shut and steps to the side of Faiza’s chair. Because – I mean – it’s not like they look alike. But the confidence with which they move, the way they each control every room they walk into?

Damn, I should have known.

“Daughter,” Neumann murmurs, bending down to press a fond kiss to her cheek. She returns it, patting him on the shoulder as she smiles up at him. “And how are introductions going?”

“Good,” Faiza says, her grin deepening. “I like her. She’s so cute and spunky that it’s barely going to take an effort to convince everyone that she’s an air head. And then no one will hide a damn thing from her. Plus, I think she’s smart.” Faiza turns her attention back to me, narrowing her eyes. “You’re smart, right?”

“She’s smart,” Neumann says with a sigh, frowning down at his daughter. “And behave yourself, Faiza – you know I don’t enjoy it when you’re intentionally glib.”

“Aw,” she says, turning again to grin up at him. “Shame, then, that I do enjoy it.”

Neumann’s mouth twitches as he fights a smile. “Cadet,” he says, turning back to me. “Faiza is tasked with teaching you everything she knows about the art of espionage which – though she seeks to hide it by being brash and arrogant – is a great deal. I’ve taken quite a bit of care with this one,” he smooth a fond hand over her hair, even as he looks at me. “She’s the best.”

“I’m starting to believe it,” I say quite quietly, excitement building in me.

“You have about twenty minutes,” he says, glancing at the clock on the wall. “To formulate a plan with your tutor. Do attempt to use the time wisely.” His voice is characteristically dry as he pats Faiza again on the head and moves back to the door. “Don’t be late for chemistry. And Faiza?”

She turns to him with interest, lifting her chin.

“Don’t give her any knives,” he says, dry, glancing over at me. “Not yet. She’s more likely to cut herself than someone else at this point.”

Faiza laughs and nods as I blush, not bothering to deny it.

Neumann pulls the door shut behind him as he goes and I turn my eyes back to Faiza. “So, I guess I can trust you,” I say quietly.

“Why do you say that?” she asks, peering at me again like a cat.

“Because I trust him,” I say, nodding towards the door and making her smile.

“He likes you, you know,” she says, quiet. I scoff a little but she just laughs and shakes her head. “I know, he keeps it close to the vest. But he wouldn’t have called me in if he didn’t think you were worth it. Seriously, Ariel, I think we can do…great stuff here.”

“Why are you so sure of that?” I ask, leaning towards her, curious.

“Why do you doubt it?” she asks, likewise leaning closer.

“I don’t,” I say, shrugging, confident. “I just…want to know your reasonings.”

“I’m sure,” she says quietly, holding my gaze, “because everyone on earth already thinks they know you, Ariel. Perfect miss Princess, prim and proper and cloistered away in a nunnery? I mean, I could have done without that stunning dress the night you decided to make your mating to the boxer perfectly clear,” she says, smirking at me and making me burst into a grin. “But beyond that?”

“What do you mean?” I whisper, still not getting it.

“The media has convinced everyone on the planet that you’re a cream puff, Ariel,” Faiza says, her grin deepening. When my face falls she just shakes her head. “No, it’s great – they think you’re weak, and bubbly, and vulnerable, and sweet. You can’t pay for that kind of stainless reputation. So, when we release you on an unsuspecting target? Ariel…” she shakes her head, her eagerness growing with every breath, “they’re never going to see it coming.”