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Chapter 56

  It was probably half an hour later after the incident in the foyer. Slava had princess carried me to a window, his halo unleashing a string that extended one story down from mother’s floor. He attached the zipline, and we flew down, like we had a thousand times before. And, as always, it was the best way to make me stop crying.

  He had put on a movie after we had arrived, and he handed me a tub of ice cream. I just leaned against him, watching the movie, telling him about our conversation through the tears. But no matter how much I tried to move past it, to think of something else. I kept landing back on him. On that bastard.

  “She said what?” Slava said angrily, almost crushing the ice cream in his hand.

  I sighed, wiping away the last tear as I turned to the tv softly in the background, “It doesn’t matter. Apparently he’s this great man I stand no chance against. I'm just going to give up, like she wants me to,” I said, shrugging half heartedly.

  “Excuse me?” he said, his anger mixing with disbelief “ Give up? Just because of a few words from that bitc… from her? You always say she’s testing you, and that you will pass those tests. How do you know this isn’t her ‘testing’ you now?”

  I looked into my empty ice cream cup and whispered softly, “You didn’t hear the way she said it.”

  My lips curled, “The way she spoke about him. She thinks he’s this amazing and unstoppable guy, but if you met him all you would realize is he’s a deranged dog barking at everyone that comes close. What has he even done? Scout out the entrance? I could do that. I could do that and know every weakness and guard rotation after one day of being there.”

  I put my head against his shoulder, even as I felt him nodding next to me, “I know. In my estimation you already think like a seasoned tactician, with decades of experience under her belt. But, you're still only sixteen. Don’t listen to that woman's words.”

  I felt him pull away a little, making me straighten on the couch, “Look at me,” he said, his eyes almost glowing with warmth and certainty.

  “I have met him. And I think he’s useless. Who else could make every blessed stop and stare when she receives her power? Hey?” He said, a small grin forming on his face.

  My mask was long gone, unnecessary in front of him. I couldn’t help but share his grin as he continued, “And who else would have the guts to steal their commanders personal information, and enough brains to get away with it?” he said, smiling from ear to ear.

  I looked away before I did the same. Slava always knew what to say.

  I didn’t speak for a moment. I hooked my arm around his, laying my head against his shoulder, just enjoying his presence. Finally, I said, “If Alexander wasn’t my father, I’d want you to be.”

  I felt him tense at my words as if he’d been shot. It took him a moment to recover as I felt him glance at me, before he relaxed and said, “Don’t get all sappy with me young lady.”

  I hit his hand playfully.

  “So, is your stomach ever going to shut up? When was the last time you ate real food?”

  He grabbed my hand and pushed it down before I could lift up the tub, “Ice cream doesn’t count.”

  I sighed again, “Yesterday morning. Colonel Walker has said that all sleeveless are to be treated equally now. You should see what those useless lieutenants served me.”

  “Give me twenty seconds and that order will be revoked. You need to eat after all,” he said, whipping his stream out his pocket.

  “No!” I yelped, grabbing the device out of his hand.

  “Mother said I can handle it! I can do that!” I said frantically.

  He rolled his eyes, holding up his hands in mock surrender, “Okay, fine. But, if that’s the case, what are you going to eat?” he had turned to look at something just over my shoulder.

  I had smelt it earlier, and I didn’t want to give the game away. He had forgotten I was blessed now, so I turned and acted surprised to see my favorite food hover right behind me, “This is amazing! Yay,” I said giddily, staring at the cheesy alfredo pasta, as it was placed gently into my lap, the steam still rising off it.

  “It’s so amazing I won’t even lecture you for cooking it well listening to me cry,” I said with a small grin as I started devouring the food greedily.

  He waved his hand dismissively, “I was multitasking, I can cook that behind my back with my eyes closed. I’ve had enough practice, after all.” He grinned right back at me.

  Before I could say a word, my stream buzzed.

  He stole it straight off the couch next to me, leaning far away and looking at it like he couldn’t believe his eyes, “Sofia! You have a message! It’s from a… Selena, she wants to meet up tomorrow. Wait.”

  He turned to me, and gave me the proudest smile I had ever seen on him, “You made a friend.”

  I blushed deeply, looking away.

  “Oh….” I heard playfulness seep into his voice before I turned to look at him again, “and it seems to be a special kind of friend,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “It’s not like that!” I argued, the blush almost spilling into my ears.

  “Please, missy. I’m a man. I know when someone likes a girl,” he tossed the stream around, a playful smirk on his lips, “Oh, I also let her know you're going to be there. Although I don’t know when you're going to tell her you don’t like pizza.”

  I tried to snatch the stream from him, and he caught my bowl as it slipped off my lap with his string, even as he held the device away from me, “You are going to show me outfits for the rest of the evening, like you did as a girl. No politics, no civvies, no distractions. And then I'll consider giving your stream back.”

  “Fine,” I mumbled, shoveling the pasta into my mouth with a huff.

  After I finished eating, I walked into the spare bedroom that I had commandeered when I was five and practically lived in since, and sorted out the clothes. I went with black, to mimic the eventual black cloak and imitate the respect that it garners, and walked out the room.

  Slava was sitting on the side couch casually as he stared down the hall. When I walked out, he whistled and hollered, and I couldn't help but smile.

  “Down right stunning! I love the black, suits your hair. Let’s see…. How about some colour? Too much black and you’ll look like one of those goths.”

  “What’s a goth?”

  He just waved my question away, so I walked back to my room, changed my shirt to a white tank top, showing off my belly.

  When I walked out again, his eyes widened. “Absolutely not. Look at you, midriff exposed. What if some teenage boy sees you and drops dead? We must have some mercy. Change. Now.”

  His words were playful. His tone wasn’t. And yet, I still enjoyed the compliment, so I raced back to my room, ready to try on something else.

  And so it went, for the rest of the evening. Slava continued chastising me every time I showed a little skin, but always said I was gorgeous. I was irritated that I couldn't show off the body I had worked hard for, but he did make me feel better. I didn’t think of my conversation with mother the entire evening.

  Finally, we decided on a wonderful denim jacket—left sleeve removed, of course—with black pants and a white t-shirt to round out the picture. I laid on the couch watching a movie softly in the background. He started singing halfway through—badly off key and butchering the lyrics as always—and I fell asleep not five seconds later.

  It came time for the dat… for the friendly meet up. Slava drove me personally, forgoing the usual driver we share, and was telling me exactly what to say if I wanted to be arrested.

  “And afterward, you grab her and spin her into your arms, you whisper, ‘how was that sugar?’”

  “Sure, Slava. Sounds good. I’ll see you in thirty minutes?” I said, looking at the pizzeria, worry flowing through me.

  He didn’t respond as I got out of the car. He rolled down the window for our usual goodbyes, “Bye kiddo. I’ll see you in a few hours!” he said as he drove off quickly.

  I stood there, stunned on the sidewalk, half tempted to call after him—until I spotted her. She was already seated at a booth, watching me with one eyebrow raised, amusement flickering in her sharp gaze. A soft, sun-kissed yellow sundress hugged her figure, the fabric light and effortless, yet made bold by the dark leather jacket draped over her shoulders. The contrast between delicate and rebellious suited her perfectly. Her golden hair, swept up into a neat bun, revealed the curve of her neck, with a few stray strands slipping free to frame her face.

  I smoothed out my hair subtly, walking into the large restaurant with large pictures of every kind of pizza you can think of plastered on every wall, and I don't need to tell you how good the place smelled.

  I slid in across from her. “Hopefully I wasn’t late,” I said, even though I knew I was exactly ten minutes early.

  “Oh no, you're right on time. So, how did it go with your mother? I remember you mentioned it on the bus in the middle of those oafs arguing.”

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  I looked away, immediately feeling my spirits deflate.

  “Oh… I’m sorry, but for what it’s worth, the rest of us are blown away by the plan you have so far. I think it’s clever,” she said sheepishly.

  I just nodded, “Thank you for the compliment.”

  I hate to admit it, but I remembered that stupid civvie asked if I ever smiled. Maybe there was a tactical use for it now? Hopefully it would ease the awkward silence that propped up after my statement.

  I curled my lips up.

  Her smile twitched in response, before she waved a waiter over. After ordering drinks, we sat together, glancing at the restaurant around us, not speaking a word. What was I supposed to say? Uhm…

  “I like your—”

  “I think that—”

  We said simultaneously, and she waved it away, “No, sorry. You go first.”

  I waited a moment, and said, “I like your hair. You look wonderful in a bun.”

  She smiled politely, “and I love your outfit. I never expected you of all people to wear anything other than a black cloak, almost didn't recognize you.”

  I felt slighted by the comment. Did I not look nice in my outfit? Slava said I looked like a goddess. Was he lying to me?

  She didn’t notice my slight annoyance, simply continuing by drumming her hands against the table and saying, “Now. I think that I figured out a sure fire way to make Boris lose. We can—”

  I held up a hand, glancing from the table back to her, “My apologies… I just feel like I’ve come here under false pretenses. Do you only wish to discuss matters related to the civvie?” I said with absolute disgust.

  Her eyes widened, “Well… yes? I thought that’s why you agreed to be here? I didn’t really understand your message through all the hearts you were sending yesterday…”

  A realization seemed to hit her, and she looked up, her eyes widened to saucers, “Oh my god! I am so sorry! You thought this was a date!”

  I felt sheer, unadulterated panic flow through me, “No! No… uh, I was chatting with a… I guess uncle? Step dad? He stole my stream, he was the one answering you!” I waved my hands in front of my face, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing furiously.

  She was staring at me wide eyed, “That’s the second time I have ever seen you stammer. Of course! that makes so much more sense as to why you seemed so confused when I asked you on the bus yesterday!”

  The panic seemed to rise up another notch, as I realized my reputation among the high rankers and relationship with what is arguably my most important subordinate was being flushed down the drain in front of me, “No! No! I swear, I didn’t think of it that way!” I said, lying through my teeth.

  I was actually getting increasingly annoyed, despite the panic and humiliation. How could she assume I wouldn’t think this a date when she asked me to meet her while calling me a sexy princess?

  Selena was stunned into genuine silence, and I could practically hear gears turning in her head. She glanced down sheepishly after a long moment, my heart hammering in my chest as I was trying to formulate a way to fix this situation, before she said shyly, “I didn’t even know you liked me.”

  “You are a trusted subordinate…” I thought back to our conversation the other day, “And hopefully a friend. Yes, I like you.”

  I realized my blunder as soon as a wolfish grin appeared on her face, “So you like like me right?”

  The panic returned in full force, “I did not say that.”

  “But you wanted to say that,” she said while flipping her hair, clearly enjoying this fleeting bit of power.

  “I don’t think your power lets you read minds. So no,” I said, still scrambling for a way to fix this.

  “A pity, I quite like you, so if you don’t like me I think my hearts going to break,” she was twirling her hair, a sad playful look plastered on her face as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

  I looked away, embarrassment and shame burning through me at what felt like an unprecedented rate. Then I remembered that I am his daughter.

  I turned back to her, looking her straight in the eyes. The embarrassment, the shame—vanished in an instant. I pulled the mask on and said flatly, “yes. I am sexually attracted to you. Now, can we continue strategizing please?”

  She froze at my words, and this time it was her turn to blush, “I uh… wow you just said it outright… Listen we can.. Uhm.”

  I felt a grin tug at my lips, and I let it stay there as I continued, “Oh? Where was this earlier confidence? I thought you liked me, so what seems to be the problem? Is it the… sexual nature of the attraction?”

  She blushed even more, fanning her face with her hands, “Okay, alright. I surrender.” she said, holding up her hands while an embarrassed smile crawled across her face.

  She was saved by the bell, as the pizza arrived.

  “So miss Casanova, want to take a walk down to the lake after our meal? Round off our ‘date’ with a romantic stroll?” she said, clearing leaning into the game this had turned out to be.

  The lake was a backup source of water for the floor in case the entrance was closed off intentionally/accidently, and apparently a romantic spot for potential couples to go to.

  “Sure… that sounds wonderful actually. Although I don’t know who told you this was a date, because it wasn’t me.”

  “Right… it was that mysterious step dad uncle man who sent all those hearts,” she said, nodding with totally feigned sincerity.

  “It really was him.” I protested.

  “Sure, and my boyfriend goes to another school.”

  “You have a boyfriend?” I asked, stunned.

  She rolled her eyes, “No you sexy dork, I do not.”

  After finishing our meal, we made our way to the lake. The awkwardness had faded into something else—something easier, lighter. Conversation came naturally now, like it had always been this way. We chatted about nothing. About everything, our conversation wondering to the strangest places as we strolled lazily by the water, the crystals glinting beautifully off the lake’s surface.

  There was a blessed at the edge of the path, who’s ability seemingly made him a one man band, a warm breeze carrying his songs across the whole lake. I took off my jacket and so did she as we walked past.

  She suddenly grabbed me and spun me around, tying her jacket around my waist. I didn’t complain when her hand would linger a little lower than it should as she tied it around my back.

  I returned the favor with my jacket, before we kept walking, arm in arm, and she was telling me all about how her step parents from Goudstad had reacted to the news of her being a high ranker.

  “They’re getting me an acoustic guitar signed by Jimmy knox!” she said excitedly, which led to a half hour of her explaining who the man was and why she needed to have his signature on her guitar.

  The conversation baffled me, but at least I know she likes music now.

  We had found a comfortable silence as we arrived back where we had started, having walked the entire thing. It had felt like five minutes. I looked at my watch. It had been three hours. I smiled internally, but then her stream buzzed against my bum.

  I turned the jacket around, took the stream out and handed it to her, “It’s for you.”

  She looked disappointed before she picked up the call, and devastated when she put it down.

  “Sorry, I have to get going, my step dads here. This was… well. This was amazing.”

  I can’t believe I actually used some of Slava’s advice on this matter, but I took her hand and spun her into the crook of my arm and said, “So how was that sugar?”

  She giggled, “Now who’s being cheesy?”

  “I thought you liked cheesy?” I said, and she slapped my arm playfully.

  “You like cheesy, dummy. Now, goodbye, and remember to keep in touch,” she said, completely polite, like this was just another day. I was confused at her change in tone, before she smacked my ass and dashed away as quickly as she could.

  I wanted to lecture her for such a public display of indecency, in front of her own guardian no less, but I just took my stream out, and sent her a message that read, I’ll get you back for that, before I turned around and walked back toward the restaurant as I texted Slava to come pick me up.

  The date was wonderful, so wonderful that I hadn’t thought about my conversation with mother or the tournament for hours. But, now that I had, I realized I needed to focus on the mission now far more than ever. I had thought it over as I was walking with Selena earlier. Mother rarely makes mistakes, but this is one of them. It falls to me to show her the mistake, and make sure that her prediction does not come to pass.

  I formulated ways for Bongi to get back to Fort Grant, the training base, so that he could take Viktor’s coin there and allow us to hop back and forth as needed.

  We did this for the next few days, focusing mostly on Zach and making sure that he was ready, giving him very simple instructions and tactics he could use to win.

  And before I knew it, the tournament arrived.

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