Page 110 of Ruthless Legacy

“Silence!” The first man orders when the room erupts in laughter and talking. I hear a couple of people saying, “Easy out.”

“Selectee LaReaux. Are you telling this body that you did not complete your task, and our esteemed member will be unable to purchase a watch?”

“I’m saying I didn’t ask polka dot anything about his watch.” I reach down and pull it out of my shoe. “I don’t know how familiar this esteemed member is with jewelry, but whoever told him this was a rare timepiece lied to him.”

Now it’s his turn to scoff. Someone sitting behind him says, “Explain.”

“This isn’t a rare watch. Expensive? Sure, but twenty-three grand will get it for you, and a simple internet search will tell you where to buy it.Ifthis was an authentic watch.”

The person with the gavel says, “I can assure you it’s authentic.”

I snort. “And I can assure you, it’s not. It looks real. It’s a good fake, but I’m pretty sure the brand stamp is supposed to be on the left side of the watch, and the inside band, not to mention the date, is wrong. There’s a difference between 1680 and 1860.”

He points to someone who comes to take the watch from me. The guy turns it over, inspecting all the things I pointed out. Then sets it on the table next to the gavel holder, who says, “You may put your hood back on and return to your holding area.”

I go through the process of being marched out again. It’s hours before I’m pulled back into the cathedral. Just like last time, I’m instructed to remove my hood.

“Selectee LaReaux. We have tallied your scores, and with the support of the high council, you have advanced to the next stage in the process of joining The League of the Daggered Raven. As I’m sure you suspect, the process is difficult. We find our prospects are most successful when they’re paired with a senior member to help guide them on this journey. We received many requests to mentor you, and I’m pleased to announce the honor will go to Leonardo Burke.”

The guy who didn’t even have the decency to pretend he wasn’t staring at our tits? I’ll pass. “Who else you got?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t think esteemed member Burke and I will be a good fit.” I wonder if they’re about to renege on their offer. After the tutoring, that wasn’t, I don’t trust these guys to give me help. Maybe the other selectees fared better, but I can’t take that chance on myself.

“I didn’t hear you. What are you saying, selectee LaReaux?”

Someone mutters, “oh, shit” when I step closer to the dais. I’m guessing that’s not allowed either. Well, they’re really gonna lose their shit when they hear what I have to say next. I do the curtsey thing. My voice carries when I say, “Esteemed member Forsyth, I decline your suggestion for a mentor.”

Outraged shrieks and bellows break out all around the room. I hear the comments about how I’m not allowed to decline, because even with my less than stellar table manners and upbringing, I've beenchosen. They all think I should be flattered about that.

The person next to Forsyth stares down his nose at me. “What did you say, selectee LaReaux?”

I’m over this. I know he heard me. The whole cathedral heard me. How many times do they need me to say it? “You heard me. I decline to be Leonardo Burkes’ mentee.”

“You can’t decline. All selectees are assigned a mentor to guide them through the rest of this process.”

“Oh. I understand that part. What I’m saying, I’d like to select my own mentor.”

There’s more grumbling. The guy whose name plate says mentor committee scoffs, “That’s preposterous.”

I can barely take him seriously with his white powdered wig and judicial robe. “Why? Don’t the rules state a challenge for mentorship can be issued?”

He looks to the person on his left before begrudgingly agreeing, “They do.”

“And didn’t you say that as a woman I’ll get no special treatment or leniency? That I’ll be doing the same tasks as everyone else?”

I don’t wait for him to answer. “I’m flattered that so many people have submitted their name to mentor me.” Of course, I use the word mentor sarcastically, because after three days in James Hourihan’s presence, I feel like this was an underhanded attempt to pimp me out. “However, I feel I will be most successful if I choose my own.”

There’s some more talk, but now my attention is on the recruitment committee leader. Specifically Pax’s father. Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest? I wonder if he’s been padding Pax’s points. The look on his face says it all. He doesn’t like me declining anything. He can’t very well come right out and reject the rules, which they’ve shoved down our throats for three weeks, but he’s not happy with it.

“Very well. Is there someone you’ve interacted with during the selectee process that you would like to mentor you?” Powdered wig guy waves his hand around the room. “If not, then pick someone on the dais. You will do well with any of the gentlemen here.”

I’ll bet. “You’re right. It would be an honor.”

I think picking a mentor is a lot like playing pool. You can use the pool sticks provided, but you stand a better chance at winning if you bring your own. “I pick Coach Deacon Wolfe.”

Nowthatgets the exact reaction I expect from all of them. Not even Malcom Cox, Jr., can hide his shock. Powdered wig stammers, “H-he’s a teacher.”

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