Birthright

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The Meta elites gathered in Fitness Center B that evening, which was only about a five-minute walk to the north from Alex's dormitory. It was identical to Fitness Center A to the south, except that it had a reinforced-weapons room on the third floor and was intended solely for the Meta cadets.

The top ten Metas gathered in an upper floor workout room with several sparring mats at the center and bodybuilding equipment lining the mirror walls. Some of them had grabbed weapons from the weapons room and were practicing with them, including Alex. She held a slim sword with a blue-tinted blade made of synthesized Sen and steel, sparring with Liam, who held a giant broadsword that neared her height.

Behind her, Stan Aries was sparring against Keith Hollis, the guy who painted himself up during lunch with Sanser tattoos. Both of them were still on a high from excitement in the atrium. Aries hadn't stopped bragging about it.

"You should have seen the look on their faces," he said as he ducked under a punch from Hollis. "Some of them wanted to turn full-savage on us. Show their true colors. Too bad they didn't or they'd be out on their asses. We would've trimmed some Sanser fat."

Of course that was his plan. It wasn't to humiliate or punish the Sansers, no. Alex had no doubt he'd enjoyed that, but his goal had been to incite the Sansers to anger. Have them go on the offense and attack the Metas, and the only course of action after that would be to kick them out of school.

It was a repeat of the Liberation Day fiasco. Aries and his buddies had incited the Sansers in the Dance of Blades to retaliate against the Meta blade dancers, and even now they were still paying the price. Last she'd heard, Kolseya, the guy she'd beaten to a pulp had been sent out to the Wasteland to harvest Sen for a six-month sentence.

He was lucky. Normally a Sanser who raised his weapon against a Meta would've ended up sentenced to death. The same punishment as the one who attempted to escape Sen extraction.

Alex spun around Liam, bringing her blade down in a graceful arc. She made a horizontal slice that missed him when he sidestepped, pivoting on her heels in time to parry a blow from his heavy sword. She was executing instinctual moves she'd practiced thousands of times since she was eight, but half of her focus was on Aries' conversation.

So it was no surprise when Liam said, "You're slower than usual, princess."

Her lips tightened at the nickname. Princess implied that she was pampered and spoiled and maybe it seemed that way to anyone who didn't know her family, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. General Drasse didn't believe in pampering. He believed that children who grew up in a loving environment would never be able to prepare for the real world, especially those who'd been reared to become soldiers.

Where other parents were teaching their children about honesty and compassion and love, her father had taught her single-minded discipline and ruthlessness. Instead of diplomacy, he'd taught her duplicity to manipulate people into complacency and agreement. And importantly, he'd taught her to keep her cards close to her chest.

"Your face should hide the secrets that you guard in your heart. Allow anyone to truly know you, and you will have given them the greatest gift: the power to cause your downfall."

In response to Liam's remark, Alex flipped over his shoulder, dodging the crushing downswing of his sword, and wrapped her right arm around his neck. She kicked him in the back of his neck, bringing him down with a grunt.

"Is this more to your liking, Bishop?" she taunted, fully aware that the other top-rankers were watching with one eye.

He tapped her arm to indicate defeat. She let him up, and he stretched his neck, grinning through his wince. "Ah, Miss Drasse, no reason to use those killer moves on a poor number-eight like me. I was only teasing, you know me. With a second-rate comedian for a father, I'm afraid I'm destined to a lifetime of poor jokes that end up doing me more harm than good."