Chapter 8 The Ranking Board
Chapter 8 The Ranking Board
“Look at that. Beautiful fabric being treated like a floor rag,” I heard a Protege whisper as they passed through the hallway.
The air in the West Wing smells of ammonia and desperation. With every breath, it feels like something is clawing at my throat—the weight of dreams being systematically smothered by the machine. In the Sanctum, you aren’t human; you’re an investment. And when you aren’t turning a profit, you’re pollution.
I didn’t look at them. I remained on my knees on the cold, white tiles of the Main Corridor. My white silk dress—the one meant to represent ‘purity’ and ‘refinement’—was soaked in grey, filthy water. I was using the hem of it to scrub a coffee stain that Dominique had pointedly spilled earlier.
“Rule Number Seven: Poise is your permanent skin,” Dominique mocked, standing over me. Her Jimmy Choo heels came inches from my fingers. “But it looks like being a permanent rag suits you better, Eris. Rank 15 fits you. It’s the closest to the dirt you came from.”
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even break the rhythmic motion of my hands.
“If you’re finished with your monologue, Dominique, you can leave,” I replied, my voice a flat line. “You’re blocking the light. I can’t see the dirt on the tiles—it’s almost as black as your soul.”
“You—!”
Before she could snap back, the electronic bell chimed. Time for the Ranking Board update. Dominique huffed, flipped her hair, and marched toward the grand hall where the digital board was located.
I stayed on my knees. As the expensive silk sucked up the dirty water, my mind traveled back to a place where filth wasn’t just a stain—it was a way of life.
FLASHBACK
The scent of ammonia was suddenly replaced by the stench of spoiled food, rust, and wet cement.
Three years in the Iron Roots. Three years living as a shadow. I remembered my first night there—sleeping under a makeshift roof while the rain poured down. The water wasn’t clean like the showers in the Sanctum; it was thick with factory oil and sewage.
I remembered eating scraps of bread that were hard as rock, competing with stray cats for a piece of protein. I remembered the way my heart hammered when three drunken thugs chased me into a dark alley just because I’d found a tin of sardines tossed out by a canteen.
I crawled through mud that was waist-deep just to hide. I let the stench of the slums coat me so the predators wouldn’t find the ‘Jade’ underneath. In those nights, I learned that the floor—no matter how dirty—is the only thing that never leaves you. The ground is honest. It doesn’t pretend to be your friend. It just waits for you to fall.
“Still Rank 15,” Lulu muttered. She approached me and helped lift the bucket, her eyes swimming with pity. “Eris, why don’t you fight back? You could easily beat Dominique in the tests. Why do you let them do this to you?”
I looked at Lulu. She’s kind, but she’s naive.
“Lulu, in chess, the most important piece is the King, but the most movement comes from the Pawns,” I whispered, wringing the grime from my dress. “Let them look down on me. Let them think I’m broken.”
I stood up, carrying the wet silk like a heavy curse. We walked toward the Ranking Board. In the center of the hall, our faces were displayed.
THE SANCTUM RANKING BOARD
01 DOMINIQUE The Matriarch (State Secrets) Calculating
02 BEATRICE The Ice Empress (Market Manipulation) Merciless
03 LULU The Lolita (High-Society Infiltration) Deceptive
04 MORGANA The Witch (Narcotics & Toxicology) Mysterious
05 VALENTINA The Velvet Noose (Executioner) Violent
06 GENEVIEVE The Siren (Audio-Visual Blackmail) Seductive
07 BAMBI The Doe (The Perfect Distraction) Lethal
08 CLEO The Sphinx (Cipher & Codes) Brilliant
09 NATALIA The Widow (Inheritance Grabbing) Patient
10 ROXY The Vixen (Underworld Liaison) Wild
11 JASMINE The Fragrance (Chemical Warfare) Subtle
12 TESS The Handler (Asset Management) Strict
13 IVY The Poison (Intel Sabotage) Traitorous
14 BELLA The Doll (Deep-Cover Surveillance) Silent
15 ERIS The Jade (Unclassified/Raw Asset) Target
My face on the screen looked vacant, the eyes seemingly lifeless. Julian was standing near the board, talking to Madame V. His eyes flickered toward me—toward my stained dress and my red, scrubbed hands.
“Julian, look at your ‘find,’” Madame V sneered, her voice carrying across the hall. “She’s a disappointment. She has the face, but the spirit is… common. You brought in trash, and trash is what you got.”
Julian didn’t defend me. He just stared. “The training is not yet over, Mother. Some gems need more pressure to shine.”
“Pressure? Or just a trash bin?” Madame V laughed and walked away, her silk train gliding effortlessly over the floor I had just cleaned.
Julian approached me. I bowed, as expected of a Rank 15.
“Your dress is ruined,” he said, his voice flat.
“Clothes can be replaced, Sir,” I replied, staring at his polished leather shoes. “What matters is that the path you walk is clean.”
He leaned in, his scent of sandalwood and rain hitting me like a physical blow. “Don’t get too comfortable at the bottom, Eris. The Sanctum doesn’t keep failures.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He left without a second glance. But what he didn’t know was that while I was bowed, seemingly paying homage to his presence, my hands were busy.
When I’d dropped my rag near the base of the Ranking Board—at the exact corner where the power supply meets the central server connection—I planted a ‘bug’ no larger than a fingernail. It was a device I’d secured with Vera’s help during our last meeting.
I went to the bathroom to wash up. As the water cascaded over my skin, a cold smile touched my lips.
They all think being Rank 15 is a humiliation. They think I’m at the bottom because I’m weak. But being at the bottom is a strategic choice.
When you are at the bottom, no one looks at you. You are invisible. You are the air. And most importantly, when you are at the bottom, you have the best view of everyone’s dirty feet.
I see whose knees tremble when Madame V passes. I see who hides alcohol under their bed. I see every bit of filth they try to hide behind their expensive gowns.
I activated a tiny earpiece hidden inside my toothbrush holder.
Static… then a voice.
“…the Silas Gala will be the perfect distraction,” Madame V’s voice drifted from the bug. “The Senator expects the best. If Eris fails to impress, we dispose of her there. Julian, make sure she’s… compliant.”
“She will be,” Julian replied.
I took a deep breath. So, the gala isn’t just a test; it’s an execution site.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The ‘Eris’ they see is a floor rag. But inside, the ‘Margo’ they fear is sharpening her claws.
Dominique can have Rank 1. She can have the spotlight and the applause. While she’s busy performing, I will be systematically dismantling the Sanctum’s foundation from underneath.
“This floor is nothing compared to the mud, Julian,” I whispered to my reflection. “And unlike you, I know how to breathe underwater.”
Next week, at the gala, they expect a mistress. They expect a girl who will bow and serve. They have no idea that the girl from the bottom is the one who will bring the whole board crashing down.
I checked my notebook and crossed Dominique off the priority list. She’s just a pawn. I need to focus on the ones at the top of the stairs.
Senator Silas (The Gala)
Madame V (The Brains)
Julian Thorne (The Heart—or what’s left of it)
I went back to the dorms, ignoring the snickers of the other girls. I am Rank 15. The lowest. The dirtiest. The most invisible.
And that is exactly why I am the most dangerous person in Ivy Heights.