***

Ethelstan didn't come out for lunch.

Videgrel understood that the news about studying at a residential academy was a shock for the guy, and man even wanted to talk to him about it, but Ethel refused to let him in, stating that he didn't want to see or hear anyone.

Videgrel had to step back and give the guy some time to come to terms with the situation.

During lunch, Miranda shared her plans for the coming days, but Videgrel barely listened to his wife, occasionally nodding and agreeing with her. After the meal, when Miranda went to her room to prepare for the departure, Videgrel decided to try again to talk to Ethelstan.

But as it turned out, there was no need to go anywhere.

Ethel was in the living room.

The guy sat on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. Seeing this picture of complete despair and sorrow, Videgrel genuinely felt sorry for his stepson.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sitting down next to the guy on the couch and gently squeezing his shoulder.

Ethelstan looked up at the man with a confused gaze and weakly smiled.

What was he supposed to say? That he was okay? That everything was fine? But that would be a lie.

He had learned about his exile to some residential academy as soon as his mother and Videgrel returned from their trip. His stepfather went to work, and his mother came to his room and told him about her decision.

At first, Ethel didn't believe her, thinking she was just punishing him for disobedience, but her look told him she was deadly serious.

That conversation ended in a scandal, in which Ethelstan lost his voice, and now he refused to talk to her or anyone else. He even avoided meeting Videgrel and, trying not to show himself to him, almost never left his room.

But today was an exception. The guy came out to the living room because the servants were swarming in his room, packing his things, and he didn't want to see it.

"It's for the best," the guy said hoarsely, understanding that Videgrel knew about the academy. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Ethel took a deep breath and buried his face in his knees again. Less than an hour remained before his departure, and he didn't want to be pestered.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do to help you," the man said apologetically, still squeezing his stepson's shoulder. "You know how hard it is to change your mother's mind."

Ethelstan just scoffed, not lifting his head. Videgrel suddenly cursed.

"Why does it have to be this damn academy?" he asked himself angrily and put his arm around the guy's shoulders. "Ethel, you have to promise me something. If you find it unbearable at the academy, you must tell me immediately. If necessary, I'll take you out of there, regardless of Miranda's decision. Do you understand?"

"Why would it be unbearable for me there?" Ethel asked with a grim smile. "Everything's perfect. It's a boys' academy. Great prospects will open up for me there."

"Ethel, I'm not joking right now." Videgrel was dead serious. "That academy isn't as nice as it seems. Please, be careful. I'll do everything I can to ensure your safety, but... even my connections might not be enough."

All the fake composure Ethelstan had evaporated with his stepfather's words.

"What kind of academy is this?!" he snapped. "Where is she sending me?!"

A bony hand of fear gripped the guy's throat, and he turned pale, feeling a slight wave of nausea.

Not only was he being sent away from home to an unfamiliar place where he would have to live in an unusual environment, but Videgrel's warnings were also adding fuel to the fire.

"It's a residential academy for troubled boys from wealthy families. And believe me, the word 'troubled' is no exaggeration in this context. I know the headmaster, and I can tell you this much: he's all for natural selection in the truest sense of the term."

At those words, Ethelstan began to tremble, and the man hugged him tighter, as if those embraces could shield the guy from any trouble.

"Can you at least fight?" Videgrel asked with faint hope, suspecting the answer would be negative.

Where would he have learned self-defense? In the park with the servants?

"No," Ethelstan replied quietly, confirming the man's suspicions. "I don't know... I've never tried."

There was a commotion on the stairs. Ethel turned and felt the blood drain from his face. The servants were carrying his bags down. A maid emerged from the kitchen, holding a tray with tea and the cake he had ordered that morning. But now he knew he couldn't swallow a bite.

How could his mother do this to him?! Whatever he had done, Ethel thought he didn't deserve such a harsh punishment.

"What should I do?" he whispered, looking at the man with horror, whose embrace didn't comfort him at all.

"First, calm down and don't panic," Videgrel advised, ruffling Ethel's hair. "I'm not great at fighting either, but in my youth, I sometimes had to use my fists. It's not that bad. Overall, just try not to attract unnecessary attention. And most importantly, if you can't avoid conflict - fight back. Always. No matter how hard or scary it is. Fight back with whatever you can get your hands on."

Ethel looked at his stepfather in confusion, nodded silently, and then quickly pulled away as his mother entered the living room; he didn't want Videgrel to get into trouble.

"Are you ready?" Miranda asked. "The car is waiting at the entrance. Finish your tea, and we'll go."

"I'm not going with you," the guy said coldly, turning to his stepfather. "Will you see me off?"

"Sorry," Videgrel said apologetically, "I have an important meeting in an hour. I can't cancel it."

"Oh, really?" Ethel turned away in hurt. "I guess I'll have to go alone then..."

"Enough of this drama!" Miranda said sternly. "If you don't want to drink tea, go to the car. I'll be right there."

"Don't you dare come with me!" the guy shouted, knocking the tray out of the maid's hands. "Do you hear me? Don't you dare! I don't want to see you!"

With these words, he ran out of the house, holding back tears of hurt, disappointment, and fear, and climbed into the back seat of the waiting Bentley. Slamming the door, Ethel looked at the front entrance of the mansion with hatred and ordered the driver to lock the doors so no one else could get in.

"Young master, Mrs. Miranda..."

"At least you, Henry, don't betray me," he said in a trembling voice. "Please... don't let her in; let her take another car if she wants."

"As you wish, young master," the driver said, a sad smile touching his lips.

Videgrel stopped Miranda, who was about to run after her son, gently but firmly grasping her elbow with his fingers.

"Leave him be," he asked, bringing his wife's hand to his lips and leaving a warm kiss on her soft skin. "Give him time to accept it."

Miranda stubbornly pursed her lips but then softened, giving her husband a tender smile and asking the butler to call a taxi.

When she and Ethelstan had left, Videgrel returned to the house and went to his study to call his father and ask him for a small but very important favor.

***

The academy where Henry parked the car turned out to be a regular boarding school, where wealthy parents sent their children to keep them out of the way and out of trouble.

There was a crowd of people at the academy gates.

Ethelstan noticed familiar faces, the ones often seen on magazine covers and front pages of newspapers. Many he had seen on television in political shows, fashion shows, or popular cooking shows featuring movie and music stars.

Next to these notable personalities were their offspring - arrogant and stylishly dressed young men aged eighteen to twenty.

None of these guys were crying their eyes out, shaking with fear, or kicking their feet, demanding not to be sent to this academy.

And Ethelstan suddenly felt relieved.

The academy was considered a reform institution for "troubled" boys, but so far, Ethel only saw fellow sufferers who were as unlucky with their parents as he was.

Not wanting to look at this motley crowd any longer, Ethelstan independently pulled his things out of the trunk and headed to the entrance gate, not even glancing at his mother, who was just getting out of the taxi.

Squeezing into a small room where an elderly guard sat at a desk, Ethelstan gave him a friendly smile and stated his name.

The man made a phone call, and a few minutes later, a short, skinny man in a formal suit, who introduced himself as the first-year course curator, entered the gatehouse. Ethelstan shook his dry, wrinkled hand and immediately frowned when his mother entered the rather cramped room.

"What a pleasant young man," the curator gushed, noticing the woman. "I'm sure we won't have any problems with him."

"Ethel can be a bit capricious," Miranda warned, also shaking the man's hand. "Be strict with him."

"Oh, your concern for me is so touching," Ethelstan retorted, avoiding looking at his mother. "But if you have nothing more to say, could you spare me your presence?"

"I love you too," the woman tried to hug her son, but he recoiled, using his rather large suitcase as a barrier.

"Fine," Miranda relented. "I'll see you in a few weeks. When I return from the shoot, I'll take you home for the weekend."

"Don't bother," Ethelstan replied. "This academy is my new home now."

He turned away from her demonstratively, waited for the curator to exchange pleasantries with her, and followed the man across the spacious yard to a beautiful five-story building with a wide main entrance.

They walked through the hall and up the stairs to the fourth floor.

"This is the dormitory," the man said. "Your room is the sixth down the corridor. You will be sharing it with another young man. According to the rules, you cannot change rooms, even if you don't get along with your roommate. That's just how our headmaster is. He believes it builds character."

"Don't worry," Ethel said grimly. "I can get along with anyone."

"Then I'll leave you to it. Settle in. Your new friend will show you the ropes."

The curator patted the guy on the shoulder and left.

Ethelstan watched him go and then trudged to the assigned room. Grabbing the handle, he hesitated for a moment, wondering who might be inside. But then he decided not to speculate and simply knocked. When he heard an irritated "Come in!" a moment later, he opened the door and confidently stepped over the threshold.

The room was small and quite cramped. It contained only a desk, a built-in wardrobe, a pair of nightstands, and two beds, one of which was occupied by a dark-haired guy.

He was probably Ethelstan's age, but he looked older. Maybe it was because he frowned too much with his thick black eyebrows and generally seemed like an angry, rude person.

"Hi," Ethel said, curiously examining the handsome face with warm, golden-toned skin that looked unfriendly and somewhat aloof.

"Who are you?" the guy asked, looking at Ethelstan with the same curiosity.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ethel chuckled, dropping his bag next to the empty bed. "I'm your roommate."

"I don't need a roommate," the guy said childishly and turned to the window.

"You know, neither do I," Ethel agreed. "Look how much we have in common. I think we'll get along."

"I strongly doubt that," the guy said without turning around.

"Well, we don't have a choice, do we?" Ethelstan sat on the rough blanket, ran his hand over it, and sighed heavily. "We'll have to get along. What's your name?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Just because. I need to have a name to call you."

"Why is that necessary?"

"Well, it would make our coexistence easier, don't you think?"

"Lenard," the guy replied after a moment's hesitation, still looking out the window.

"Nice to meet you," Ethel said. "And I'm Ethelstan."

"I don't care," his roommate replied very, very rudely.

"Well, you're very charming."

It was a bit hurtful, but Ethel decided not to dwell on it.

Who knows what this guy was feeling? It seemed this academy was a gathering place for kids unwanted by their parents. Who wouldn't feel upset by such a realization?

"I was told you'd give me a little tour," he made another attempt, deciding that if this wild one didn't respond this time, he wouldn't test either his or his own patience anymore.

However, Lenard, though reluctantly, replied:

"Later. I'm not in the mood right now."

"Thanks anyway," Ethelstan smirked, still hoping they would get along eventually.