Chapter 114
Raven
The moment the dismissal bell rang, Miles was at my side like an overexcited puppy. Leo materialized on my other side, curiosity written all over his face.
"So," I said, leading them down the hallway at a leisurely pace. "Miles. What's the most important thing a gambler needs? Think carefully."
Miles's brow furrowed in concentration. "Money? You need capital to make bets, right?"
"Wrong." The word came out sharp and decisive. "Try again."
"Skill? Like the techniques you mentioned—"
"Wrong again." I stopped walking, turning to face him. Around us, students flowed past like water around stones, heading to lunch or their next classes. "The first thing—the most critical thing—a gambler needs isn't money or skill. It's guts."
Miles blinked. "Guts?"
"Courage. Nerve. Balls, if you want to be crude about it." I crossed my arms. "You need the guts to go all-in when everyone thinks you're insane. The guts to walk away when the entire table is calling you a coward. The guts to face humiliation, mockery, and public ridicule without breaking your smile."
Understanding dawned slowly across Miles's face. "You're talking about... mental fortitude?"
"I'm talking about being shameless," I corrected. "About having skin so thick that nothing—absolutely nothing—can make you flinch. Can you do that?"
"I... I think so?"
"You think so?" I let skepticism color my voice. "That's not good enough. In gambling, hesitation means death. Uncertainty means losing. You either have the guts or you don't."
Leo was watching this exchange with undisguised fascination. "Raven, this is getting intense. What exactly are you planning?"
I ignored him, keeping my focus on Miles. "I'm going to give you a test. Right now. If you pass, we'll talk about actual training. If you fail..." I shrugged. "Then you're not ready, and we both go our separate ways. Sound fair?"
Miles straightened, squaring his shoulders. "What's the test?"
"Follow me."
I started walking again, this time with purpose. Leo fell into step beside us, and I could practically hear his brain working overtime trying to figure out where we were headed.
"Raven," he said cautiously, "you have that look. The one you get right before something absolutely insane happens."
"Do I?" I kept my voice innocent.
"Yes. And it's making me nervous."
"Good instincts, Leo."
We rounded a corner, and I led them down a less-crowded hallway. Students were sparse here—most had already headed to the cafeteria or outside for lunch. Perfect.
"Um," Miles said slowly, "where exactly are we going?"
I didn't answer. Not yet. Let him stew in uncertainty for another minute.
Finally, we arrived at our destination. I stopped in front of a door marked with the universal symbol of a woman in a dress. The girls' bathroom.
The color drained from Miles's face. "Master, this is—"
"Oh my god," Leo interrupted, eyes widening. "Raven, you're not seriously—"
"That would be too easy," I said, cutting him off. A smile played at my lips as I watched comprehension dawn on both their faces. "I have something much more challenging in mind."
Miles looked like he might be sick. "Master, I'm not sure—"
"Do you want to be my apprentice or not?" I asked coolly.
"I do, but—"
"No buts. Either you have the guts, or you don't. What's it going to be?"
He swallowed hard. "What... what exactly is the task?"
I turned to face him fully, enjoying this far more than I probably should. "It's simple. In a moment, I'm going inside to touch up my makeup. Your job is to stand right here, by this door. If any girl approaches, you bow like a gentleman and say—" I paused for dramatic effect, "—'The Queen is currently using the facilities. Royal maintenance in progress. Please wait.'"
Miles's eyes went impossibly wide. "You want me to—"
"I want you to prevent anyone from entering," I continued, "no matter what they say. No matter how much they curse you out or call you a pervert. No matter how many dirty looks they give you. You maintain a polite smile, keep your back straight, and don't you dare let your face turn red. Most importantly..." I leaned in close. "You stay courteous. Always courteous. Can you do that?"
The hallway had gone completely silent. Even Leo looked stunned.
Miles opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "This is..."
"A test of shamelessness," I finished. "The foundation of all great gambling. The ability to face social humiliation without flinching. To maintain composure under pressure. To smile while everyone thinks you're insane." I tilted my head. "So. Are you in, or are you out?"
For a long moment, Miles just stared at me. I could see the war playing out behind his eyes—pride versus desire, fear versus ambition. This was the moment that would determine everything. Either he had what it took, or he didn't.
Finally, slowly, Miles straightened. His jaw set. His shoulders squared.
"I'm in," he said, and his voice only shook a little. "Tell me again exactly what I need to say."
I smiled. "The Queen is currently using the facilities. Royal maintenance in progress. Please wait."
Miles repeated it back to me, word for word, his voice growing stronger with each syllable.
"Perfect," I said. "And remember—no matter what happens, you smile. You bow. You stay polite. And you don't let anyone through that door. Got it?"
"Got it."
Leo was looking between us like we'd both lost our minds. "This is actually happening. This is really, actually happening."
"Oh, it's happening," I confirmed, pulling out my phone to check my reflection in the camera. "In fact, I think I'll take my time in there. Really make sure Miles gets the full experience." I glanced at him. "Any last questions?"
Miles's face had gone slightly pale, but his voice was steady. "Just one. How long do I have to do this?"
I considered. "Let's say... fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen—" He caught himself. "Right. Fifteen minutes. No problem."