Chapter 190:
Makenna’s POV:
This part of the assessment was a series of interviews, where we each took turns entering a room to answer questions posed by an examiner.
I walked into the hall, drew a number like everyone else, and fell into line for my turn.
My number was toward the end of the list. As I waited, I watched other women emerge from the examination room, their faces a tapestry of emotions—ranging from elation to despair. My curiosity was piqued, wondering what kinds of questions they had faced.
Alice, nervously fidgeting beside me, whispered, “This is way more nerve-wracking than a written test!” I nodded, trying to offer some comfort. “It’s alright. We’ve been studying hard. We’ll be fine.”
Alice gathered her courage and clenched her fists resolutely.
When her turn came, she took a deep breath and entered the room. When she came out, her expression was noticeably more relaxed. I rushed over. “How did it go?”
She gave my shoulder an encouraging pat. “It wasn’t bad. The questions were straightforward; all things we’ve covered. You’ll do just fine, don’t worry!”
Feeling a mix of relief and anxiety, I prepared myself for my turn.
As I stepped into the examination room, I was met by an examiner seated sternly at a table cluttered with documents, flipping through pages as if searching for something.
I noticed the documents were records related to us.
I knocked on the door to announce my presence.
The examiner looked up, his face a mask of indifference. “Makenna Dunn? Please, take a seat.”
Summoning my courage, I sat down across from him, with only a table separating us.
𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖: g𝕒𝗅𝗇𝗈ⱽ𝖊𝗅𝗌﹒ⅽ𝗈𝗺
He flipped through some more documents, and then finally looked up. “Let’s begin.”
I nodded, trying to steady my breath.
He questioned me on Lycan’s history, some geographical facts, and several logic puzzles.
The questions were challenging, but I answered them correctly, thanks to my thorough preparation.
I silently congratulated myself. As Alice had said, the questions weren’t as daunting as they seemed. However, as I continued answering correctly, the examiner’s demeanor seemed to darken.
I found it puzzling. Shouldn’t an examiner be pleased with a candidate who performed well?
A nagging thought crossed my mind. Could it be that he didn’t want me to pass?
Before I could dwell on it, he cleared his throat. “Good. Now, let’s talk about the princes. What does Prince Bryan like to eat? What is his dressing style? Any peculiar habits in his daily routine?”
I was momentarily stunned. What kind of questions were these?
Seeing my confusion, the examiner’s expression revealed a hint of satisfaction, as if he was thinking, “See, you can’t answer these, can you?”
It felt absurd, and I asked, “How do these questions test my intelligence?”
The examiner responded with confidence, “If you don’t even know the princes’ preferences or habits, it shows a lack of observation and intelligence, which makes you unfit to serve the princes!”
It dawned on me then—the examiner was deliberately making it difficult! His smugness was palpable.
Grinding my teeth, I recalled my interactions with Bryan and the lessons I had learned, managing to provide the answers.
Now it was the examiner’s turn to be taken aback. He squinted at me, and then, as if trying to outdo himself, asked an utterly absurd question.
“Then tell me, how many hairs does Prince Bryan have on his head?”
