Chapter 2

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The interaction between the Legacy and the Golden Boy spread quicker than wild fire. The usual group of girls that followed Cato around now stopped to either glare or stare at Lælia. It was absolutely unnerving.

Dressed in the usual trainee suit, black that stuck to the skin, stretchy enough to move around in, yet gave enough protection that actual weapons won't give any harm but bruise, the trainees herded into the cafeteria for breakfast.

Once again, Cato sat across Lælia. Whispers erupted around them as he approached her empty table where she sat an old book, given from her great-great-great grandfather and passed down. The Art of War.

"Good morning." She lifted her head as a dull expression washed over her face at his greeting. While her lips were pressed in a straight line, Cato as always, was smirking like he already won the Hunger Games.

An awkward pause settled between them as he waited for a reply. "Morning," she mumbled back before returning to her oatmeal, light brown eyes returning to the yellowing pages. Lælia was grateful for his silence. She wasn't sure if she could handle his large ego at this early in the morning. When they had first met, Lælia was sure he wasn't as terrible as she had first thought. Of course she was proven wrong.

"You gonna show off today?"

He was met with silence.

"Caverly."

"... hm?"

"I asked if you were going to show off today," he repeated and once more, Lælia lifted her head with the utmost bored expression. But she couldn't fight the smirk that threatened to ruin her casual façade when she saw his face. He looked like a rejected, kicked puppy. It seems as if not one female had ever denied his attention.

She shrugged as she placed her book down gingerly with a piece of woven fabric tucked between the pages to keep her place. Pushing away her tray, she rested her forearms on the table with her hands clasped together. She leaned in and he did too, allowing a smirk to rest upon his mouth again.

Lælia took a dramatic pause and Cato took the time to actually look at her. Brown hair was twisted in a sloppy ponytail with the tip just brushing her shoulders and her pale skin seemed to be touched with hints of a rosy tinge. If the shade was one more hue darker, he would've mistaken her as blushing. Her eyes was a hue lighter than her hair, flecked with an even lighter shade.

"I just might." Another cryptic message and Cato was left hanging, needing to learn more about this victor's child. She might be his greatest asset... or most dangerous enemy.

--

"Today we're having an... impromptu exam of sorts," Cyprian's gaze did not miss one single trainee of his floor. Even he could break Lælia's calm posture. Stepping aside to reveal a white dummy held up by a stand, he grinned that same maniacal grin. "You're to destroy this dummy."

Scoffs and arrogant comments, mostly coming from Cato, were heard across the entire room. The only one silent was Lælia.

"The catch is..." the head instructor waited for silence before he continued. "You must do it in one blow."

Almost immediately, a line formed with Lælia in the very back. The high ranked trainees did the most damage of course and Cyprian was immensely pleased with each result. The lower ranked, the scrawny ones that were forced to be a part of the Academy either halfheartedly tried or just tossed a knife which clattered harmlessly against the plastic shell of the dummy.

Finally, it was Lælia's turn. Cyprian waited by the sidelines, wondering what this victor's child would do. Spear? Decapitate? The rest of the trainees stood around the ring but took several steps back just in case. They don't know just how dangerous or harmless she was.

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