The principal stood up, a broad, welcoming smile on his face. "Charles."
The president of the high-IQ society was notoriously intolerant of nepotism and backdoor entries. The principal's calculation was simple: Charles would refuse the girl, and the principal could just shrug, blame the strict standards, and reject her without offending the Corrington family.
It was a perfect plan.
What the principal didn't know was that Charles knew Juno. And Juno held a massive amount of weight within Mensa International.
Charles casually pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. Unbothered by formal pleasantries, he skipped the small talk and addressed Juno directly, launching into rapid-fire, highly technical French.
Anticipating a language barrier, Gerda had brought a translator along.
Catching the cue, the translator immediately stepped forward to interpret for Juno.
Despite his best efforts to maintain a polite facade, the principal couldn't hide a fleeting look of contempt. It was the first time he'd seen a rich kid whose education was this lacking.
But just as the thought crossed his mind, Juno responded effortlessly to Charles in perfect French, the complex jargon rolling naturally off her tongue. The translator awkwardly retreated to his original spot.
Setting aside the actual content of their high-level conversation, Juno's casual confidence completely eclipsed everyone else in the room.
The principal slowly connected the dots. They already knew each other.
Gerda, unsurprised by her granddaughter's brilliance, simply sipped her tea, completely unfazed.
Charles shifted his piercing green eyes to the principal. "I know her. She's a member of our organization."
Not to mention, Juno was the primary financial backer for several of Mensa's biggest projects.
"I see absolutely no issue with her attending Northbridge," Charles stated bluntly. "She is a top-tier intellect. Honestly, sitting in a university classroom is probably beneath her."
It was the absolute truth.
But if Juno wanted to play student, he was more than happy to grease the wheels.
The principal stared, unable to compute what he was hearing. "Shouldn't she at least take a Mensa evaluation test?"
Northbridge's best students typically scored around a thirty on those exams. How would Juno fare?
Charles looked like he was tired of explaining basic concepts. He gave a short sigh. "Those evaluation tests you requested from me previously? Juno is the one who wrote them."
The principal physically recoiled, certain he had misheard.


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