Page 7 of A Knight’s Revenge: The Complete Series

“It’s that time again!” Chad shouted, waving his meaty arm around the room.

He’d been kind of a chunky kid back when we attended the same private primary school, and he’d grown up to be a big, stocky guy with a comically thick neck and a buzz cut.

He prattled on. “It’s a new year at Holywell, and we have all been uniquely blessed to be able to attend school alongside the Heirs of the Four Families who, for generations, have been responsible for the incredible prosperity of our fair City! ”

A few cheers and polite claps sounded. My eggs suddenly tasted like ash, and I pushed my plate away from me with a firm shove.

Chad’s shit-eating grin got wider. “And because we are so lucky to have the Heirs at the Academy, some of us felt it was a great opportunity for those of you who are here on scholarship ,” he spat, like it was a dirty word, “to be able to personally thank the Families for providing someone of your station the rare opportunity to receive the finest education in the country while walking the same halls as the next generation of leaders of this City.”

The snickering started then. A group of well-dressed girls seated at the other end of my table giggled loudly.

I glanced across the way and quickly located a large group of what were likely the other scholarship students.

Their clothes were normal instead of screaming high fashion, and they wore faces of either begrudging resignation or wide-eyed panic.

“Oh, is this how they’ve chosen to haze us?” I asked Mari lightly, taking a sip of my coffee .

“Ugh, I know, I’m sorry,” she moaned under her breath. “Just suffer through it and then forget about it, okay?”

I gave her a nonplussed shrug.

The Heirs watched this spectacle with only the mildest of interest, casually eating from the plates that had magically appeared in front of them at some point and occasionally talking amongst themselves.

Chad went on, “And so, we will be continuing the tradition we began last year for all of you lucky scholarship students! When I call your name, come on up!” He paused to pull his phone from his pocket, lifting it to his face to read from it. “Shannon Andersen!”

A tall redheaded girl wearing a simple khaki skirt and an ill-fitting polo shirt rose from the scholarship table.

She made her way slowly down the aisle like she was being marched to the gallows, treading silently in her black ballet flats.

She came to a stop in front of the Heirs’ table, not daring to look at them and staring at her feet instead.

“Ah, ah, ah, Shannon,” Chad taunted, his square face flushed with excitement. He hopped down from his tabletop and ambled over to her. “ Kneel, ” he commanded.

I saw red. I kept my face blank, a particular skill of mine, but I was white knuckling my fork so hard, I was lucky it didn’t snap in half.

Shannon blanched, but she did as she was told.

“Repeat after me, please, Shannon: thank you, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Ferrero, and Mr. Hargraves for your Families’ benevolent generosity in providing me with the opportunity of a lifetime.

I will strive to prove I deserve the gift I’ve been given, and I will know my place within these walls, or else I will gladly crawl back to the slums from whence I came. ”

Hahaha—oh, fuck no.

Poor Shannon’s face was beet red, her hands trembling slightly, but she did as she had been ordered. Chad dismissed her, and she rushed back to her seat without a backward glance, her face still flaming.

And on it went. Some of the students clearly had been warned and had prepared themselves, going through the humiliating ritual with a sort of numbness, but others obviously hadn’t been told what awaited them in this hellhole as they stammered or held back tears.

I studied the Heirs as this nonsense went on.

It was as if nothing at all interesting was happening right in front of them.

Noah’s posture had stiffened, a hint of annoyance radiating from him, but Bennett and Zach just looked bored, continuing to chat amongst themselves and only occasionally glancing at whichever poor kid was currently prostrating at their feet.

Then finally, my number was up.

“Joanna Miller!”

I didn’t move.

“Is there a Joanna Miller here? Freshman scholarship student, crew team, graduate of Southside High School….”

“Seriously? They’re letting Southside trash in here now?” a nasally voice shouted from the group of girls huddled closest to the Heirs’ table, eliciting raucous laughter from those around her.

“Joanna, just go and get it over with,” Mari said urgently, nudging me with her elbow.

One of the girls seated down the way must’ve heard her because she decided to narc.

“She’s over here, Chad!" She waved her bright pink manicure in my direction.

The entire room turned to look in our direction.

“Oh, I see you, Southside,” Chad called, a vicious smile on his face as he spotted me—my T-shirt, messy ponytail, and scowl probably giving me away. “Hop to it. The Heirs don’t have all day.”

“No, thanks,” I called back, and Mari sucked in a startled breath.

Chad’s smile slid from his face. I stared him down, feeling every eye on me now.

Including the Heirs.

“Wrong answer, Southside,” Chad barked. “Get up here and get on your knees, or you won’t like the consequences.”

I stood up, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my coffee before jamming my earbuds into my ears.

I gave Mari an apologetic pat on the shoulder, then I stalked toward the aisle.

I turned the opposite direction, headed for the exit, then I paused to toss a quick look back over my shoulder.

“Shove it up your ass, Chad,” I said, and then I left the hall.