New York, September 2012

***

"Legrim, phone call!" called the hall monitor as he poked his head into Lenard's room, disappearing just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Lenard could hear the second-year moving away from his door, issuing orders to the freshmen and sternly reprimanding the slowest ones, referring to the academy rules and the regulations, the violation of which seemed to threaten nothing less than the ten plagues of Egypt.

Lenard sighed wearily.

He didn't feel like leaving his room, but he wanted even less to be reprimanded on his very first day at the academy.

So, pushing aside all his desires and reluctance, he got up from the bed and headed toward the office, where the only phone available to freshmen was located.

Knocking softly on the door and waiting for the muffled "Come in," Lenard pushed the door open. After greeting the short, frail man wearing glasses with a neat frame, he gave his name.

"Ah, yes! That's right! Legrim. Please."

The man gestured toward the stationary phone and buried himself back in his papers, losing all interest in Lenard.

Approaching the secretary's desk, Lenard picked up the receiver and moved to the far corner of the room. Only then did he bring the phone to his ear and answer, somewhat irritably,

"Yes, I'm listening."

"You didn't seem to be in much of a hurry," came his father's voice on the other end.

Lenard closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying to calm himself.

Anger was still boiling inside him, but he didn't want to show it to his father. It wouldn't change anything, and maintaining his composure, even if it was fake, would keep his father from feeling victorious.

"I thought we'd already discussed everything," Lenard replied coldly. "Why are you calling?"

"To check on how you're settling in," Ethan Legrim answered as if there had been no argument between them. "How's the academy?"

"It sucks," Lenard spat out, barely containing his irritation, and then fell silent.

He had already said everything he wanted to his father before leaving. None of the arguments the man had made in favor of the private boarding academy had changed Lenard's opinion. Ethan Legrim had tried hard to convince his son that his decision was based solely on a desire to provide him with the best possible future, but Lenard knew very well that the real reason lay elsewhere.

"Cherchez la femme."

The meaning of this phrase had long remained a mystery to Lenard. But now, as he found himself trapped in a kind of prison, he fully realized its significance. The only thing he didn't understand was why his father had gotten so angry at Rachel.

The man insisted that the girl was simply taking advantage of Lenard's naivety, and that all she cared about was his bank account, not him. He claimed that no woman would pay attention to a guy younger than her unless she had ulterior motives. But Lenard refused to listen. Besides, the age difference was insignificant—only four years. And Lenard certainly didn't feel like some "kid."

It was probably Lenard's stubbornness that became the determining factor in his father's decision. And within a few days, Lenard was shipped off to the academy.

The only consolation in this miserable situation was his sister's promise to take him home on weekends, regardless of their father's wishes. That gave Lenard a bit of confidence, and he eventually resigned himself to the fact, convincing himself that a little separation would only strengthen his relationship with Rachel.

"This is for your own good," his father repeated for what must have been the hundredth time when the silence between them dragged on.

"Of course, for my own good. What else would it be for?" Lenard replied sarcastically, feeling his anger rising again. "If that's all you wanted to say, I'll go. There are strict rules here. Though... you would know all about that."

"Lenard, stop being a smartass!" his father raised his voice, once again losing his temper. "She doesn't love you. Can't you see that? She only wants your money. I'm trying to protect you from disappointment. You're too young, and you don't understand a lot yet. You're acting like a mindless fool, and..."

"Enough!" Lenard cut him off. "I've heard it all before."

"I'm just trying to help," his father made another attempt at reconciliation. "If you ever need anything..."

"I don't need anything," Lenard muttered. "And anyway, I've got to go."

With that, he ended the call and returned the phone to the secretary's desk. After briefly thanking the man, he headed back to his room.

The corridors of the academy were quiet. No one was running around, no one was making noise. There was none of the usual laughter, conversations, or crowds typical of schools, making St. Isaac's Academy feel more like a monastery.

When Lenard returned to his room, he sat down on the bed he had claimed and gloomily stared out the window, which offered a picturesque view of the autumn park.

His mind was filled with countless dark thoughts, but he couldn't focus on any of them. At first, it was because he was too angry, and then, when the anger finally subsided, leaving behind only a bitter aftertaste of disappointment, he was interrupted by the arrival of a guy, who introduced himself as his new roommate.

Lenard glanced at the person with whom he would have to share a room for the next three years and, overall, was satisfied with what he saw.

After introducing himself, the newcomer absentmindedly tucked a long blonde strand of hair behind his ear, which had slipped out from under the clip holding his fairly long hair at the back. He removed his glasses with bright yellow lenses, allowing Lenard to take in his large, strikingly blue eyes. The guy was dressed stylishly, though not gaudily, which indicated good taste and wealth. The only thing Lenard didn't like about his appearance was the complete mismatch between the cheerful smile playing on his attractive lips and the incredible sadness in his eyes.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, the roommate tried to strike up a light conversation with Lenard, but Lenard deliberately ignored him, responding to his questions with short, clipped answers delivered in a tone that typically discouraged further attempts at communication.

It worked this time too.

The guy fell silent, sat down on the empty bed, and ran his hand across the bedspread. Lenard, watching him out of the corner of his eye, noticed a shadow of sadness passing over his handsome face.

At that moment, Lenard suddenly felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment, as if he had been caught peeking through the keyhole of a women's changing room. He quickly shifted his gaze back to the rust-colored treetops and tried not to look at his roommate anymore.

"They told me you'd give me a little tour," the blonde spoke again after a few moments, and there was no trace of sadness in his voice.

Lenard had no intention of refusing, but he wasn't in the mood to engage in idle conversation or show the newcomer around.

"Later," Lenard replied, still not turning toward him, and admitted honestly, "I'm not in the mood right now."

"Well, thanks for that," Ethelstan chuckled. After sitting for a few more moments, he began unpacking his things.

"Why is everything so small here?" Ethelstan glanced at the inside of the wardrobe and clicked his tongue in frustration.

There was barely enough space in the wardrobe for one person's clothes, and Lenard, that gloomy grouch, had already taken up half of the shelves. Ethelstan had to work hard to neatly cram in his own clothes, but some of his things still didn't fit.

"Hey, my clothes won't fit in here!" he protested, hoping his roommate would agree to make some space.

But there was no response from Lenard, so Ethelstan had no choice but to make do with what he had.

He took out only what could fit in the wardrobe and sat down beside the bedside table, hoping to shove a few more items in there. But before doing so, he thoughtfully asked,

"Hey, Lenard, are there any rules about what should go in the bedside table and what shouldn't? You know, like in the army? Can I see how you've organized yours?"

"Go ahead, but there aren't any rules," Lenard said indifferently, still not turning toward his roommate. "And this isn't the army. It's more like a prison."

"Thanks." Ethelstan beamed and, approaching Lenard's bed, cautiously opened the door of his bedside table.

To his surprise, there was nothing unusual inside. Just a few books, a thick notebook, some board game, and a comb.

"Hm, how depressing..." Ethelstan said absently, barely stifling a laugh when he caught Lenard's furious glare. "I didn't mean your stuff," he quickly corrected himself, "I meant the overall vibe."

After wandering around the room a bit more, Ethel pulled at the curtains, which were surprisingly dust-free, and tried to open the window, which turned out to be firmly shut.

"What's going on here?!" he exclaimed, climbing onto the windowsill and tugging at the handle of the vent, which also refused to budge. "I feel like I'm trapped."

Having achieved nothing, Ethel jumped down to the floor and headed to the door of the bathroom. Throwing it wide open, he skeptically examined the tiny space, where one person could barely fit, and let out a tortured sigh. Then he returned to the room and lay down on his bed.

But his restless nature didn't allow him to stay still for long, and after a short while, he got up again, grumbling about the terrible living conditions:

"No TV. No Internet. No phone. What's there to do around here?"

Ethelstan once again glanced at Lenard's back, hoping the guy would respond. But his roommate continued lying on the bed, pretending to be a log, completely ignoring Ethel's attempts to start a conversation.

"So boring..." Ethel drawled, moving closer to the large window.

Ignoring Lenard's heavy gaze, he sat down on the windowsill, staring out at the pristine, deserted garden.

The trees had already turned yellow and crimson, delighting the eye with their wild brightness. The wind tore at the withering leaves, driving them along the alleys, laying out a beautiful multicolored carpet. Ethel suddenly had an overwhelming urge to go outside, lie on that soft natural blanket, gaze up at the autumn sky, and bask in the warmth of the gentle sunlight.

But instead, he was stuck inside with a grumpy roommate, trying to find some interesting way to pass the time without going mad from the longing for home.

"Lenard, let's go outside," Ethelstan suggested, feeling a bit suffocated by the cramped room. "It's really beautiful and warm out there."

His roommate's restless fidgeting annoyed Lenard to no end, but he endured it. He tried not to pay attention to Ethelstan, focusing on his thoughts, but Ethel wouldn't leave him alone.

He wandered around the small room, poking into every corner he could reach. Lenard even imagined that if Ethel found a mouse hole, he would undoubtedly crawl inside, greet the mouse gatekeeper, and politely demand to be taken to the mouse king so he could complain about the cramped tunnels, the gloomy decor, and the poor state of the mouse dens, which no self-respecting rodent should ever live in.

To top off his exploration, Ethel unceremoniously sat on the windowsill and, as if they were old friends, suggested they take a walk. That must have been the last straw for Lenard, and he finally snapped.

"You're so noisy!" Lenard exhaled in frustration, gritting his teeth as he sat up on the bed. "I told you I'm not in the mood. But you're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

Ethelstan responded with a mischievous smile and shook his head, confirming Lenard's suspicions.

Lenard forced himself to stay calm and, taking a deep breath, suddenly stood up from the bed.

"Fine, let's go," he muttered, heading toward the door.

Ethel didn't hesitate or test the limits of Lenard's patience and quickly jumped off the windowsill.

"Autumn parks are truly magnificent!" Ethel began as they stepped into the corridor. "Once we go for a walk, your mood will improve in no time."

"What parks? We're touring the academy," Lenard shot his roommate a dark look.

"What's there to see?" Ethel replied, disappointed. "It's boring."

"Do you even want to go or not?" Lenard asked roughly, coming to a sudden stop.

"Of course I do!" Ethelstan hastily reassured him, afraid Lenard might change his mind. Then he gently nudged Lenard forward and added with a slight hint of flattery, "I'm sure you'll make an excellent guide."

Lenard didn't bother to respond and led the way, giving brief descriptions of the places they passed.

For the first few minutes, Ethelstan listened attentively to his roommate, but soon he began getting distracted by trivial things unrelated to the tour of the academy.

He peeked behind the curtains, where he discovered some intriguing hidden alcoves. He opened every door that wasn't locked, startling a couple of freshmen who were still unpacking their suitcases. He asked about anything and everything, never stopping for a moment, and by the end of the tour, Lenard's brain was about ready to explode.

As they wandered through the building, checking out the accessible areas, it was soon time for dinner, and Lenard led Ethelstan toward the dining hall, warning him that being late to meals was forbidden and could result in serious disciplinary action.

"What doesn't come with a punishment here?" Ethelstan asked, his voice filled with despair as they descended to the first floor together.

"For good grades, I suppose," Lenard shrugged.

He himself still hadn't fully figured out what was allowed and what wasn't, but he sincerely hoped they wouldn't be punished for academic success.

Once they reached the ground floor, the guys passed through the lobby and entered the double doors leading to a spacious hall.

Students were slowly making their way into the dining room, and Ethel unconsciously stuck close to Lenard's back, staring in horror at some of the faces around him—angry, ugly faces with grim, darting eyes and terrible manners.

One of the upperclassmen purposely bumped into Lenard's shoulder as he passed by. Lenard hissed angrily in response but chose to remain silent.

"We're here," Lenard said when the crowd thinned enough for them to get a good look around. "Our table's over there."

He nodded in the direction of the table, but Ethel didn't move an inch.

The scene before him filled him with disgust. The students were eating at three long communal tables, sitting shoulder to shoulder on wooden benches. The noise around them was unbearable. And the mess they made as they pushed and shoved, throwing food, made Ethelstan wrinkle his nose in distaste.

He's not going to sit at this table.

They could punish him, beat him, or lock him up somewhere, but he was not going to eat in a pigsty.

"Are you coming?" Lenard asked, turning to the frozen Ethelstan. "All the good seats will be taken soon."

"I'm not coming," Ethel snapped petulantly. "They can give me a separate chair and table, or I won't eat in this academy at all."

Lenard stared intently into Ethel's large blue eyes and quietly said,

"Rule number one, and it's certainly not the last: everyone eats in the communal dining hall. No exceptions. Got it? Now let's go."

He grabbed Ethelstan by the elbow and tried to pull him along, but Ethel jerked his arm free.

"I'm not eating among these pigs!" Ethel said loudly enough for a few students to turn their heads and give the two freshmen hostile glares. "If they don't give me a separate place, I'd rather starve to death!"

"Suit yourself," Lenard shrugged and turned away from Ethel, silently cursing the room assignment that had given him such a spoiled roommate.

He walked a few steps toward the table before stopping and looking back.

"Just don't wander the halls, or you'll definitely get a physical punishment. From what I've heard, the teachers here are fond of that practice. So you'd better go back to the room and stay put. It's safer that way."

With that, Lenard said no more and headed to the table, leaving Ethelstan to decide what to do next.

Ethel scoffed, glaring at Lenard's back, then turned and headed back to their room.

His frustration and anger were building.

What kind of cursed academy was this? Did his mother even bother to check what kind of place this was? And if she did, then why on earth did she send him here?!

Once back in the room, Ethel climbed onto the bed with his legs curled up and sat there, seething at the world. His stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him that he was hungry, but Ethel mentally told it to shut up. Clearly, no one was going to bring him dinner to his room. But he wasn't setting foot in that dining hall either. Sooner or later, the administration would have to give in, or he would simply starve to death. Then maybe his mother would finally breathe a sigh of relief—her precious Videgrel would be safe at last, and they could live happily ever after without the annoying obstacle that was him.

Angrier than ever, Ethelstan jumped off the bed, mentally going over his plan for revenge against his "loving" parents, and began ripping off his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the bed.

He'd make sure his mother had her fair share of scandalous days under the glare of the media. Just let him get to the nearest journalist. Then he'd unleash all his accusations, spicing them up with false but sensational details.

Calmed by these thoughts, Ethelstan headed for the shower. Thoughts of revenge warmed his soul and dulled his hunger. The guy bravely stepped under the cool streams of water, convincing himself that, if approached wisely, such procedures would help him strengthen both his health and his spirit.

***

The dinner was so awful that Lenard had to muster all his willpower just to swallow the disaster sitting on his plate, which the menu mistakenly labeled as vegetable stew.

Once he'd managed to finish the unpleasant task, Lenard got up from his seat and headed toward the exit, but at the last moment, he paused and grabbed a large, red apple from a basket sitting on the table.

The room was quiet. On the empty bed where Ethelstan usually lay, his uniform lay abandoned, with one sleeve pinned down by a heavy textbook. The rest of his books were stacked neatly on the edge of the desk. In the corner, his bag was crumpled like a rag. But Ethelstan himself was nowhere to be seen.

The mere thought that, despite his warnings, the blond brat had decided to break the rules and wander the halls made Lenard angry. He really didn't want to have to go searching for the spoiled troublemaker, risking running into the teachers and getting reprimanded. But then he heard the muffled sound of running water coming from behind the bathroom door, and Lenard felt a wave of relief as he sat down on his bed.

Twenty minutes passed, and still, Ethelstan hadn't come out of the bathroom. In that time, Lenard had already packed his bag, prepared his uniform, and even smoothed out every wrinkle on his bedsheets. At one point, he even started to worry that something might have happened to Ethelstan. But then the sound of singing, accompanied by the water, came from behind the door, dispelling his concern and replacing it with a strong sense of irritation. Finally, Lenard couldn't take it anymore. He approached the bathroom door and knocked loudly with his fist.

"Get out of there!" he shouted, realizing that if he didn't drag Ethelstan out of the shower now, he'd be waiting forever. "I'm not taking a cold shower because of you."

Hearing the insistent knock, Ethel turned off the water and responded cheerfully to his roommate's shouting:

"In that case, you're too late, buddy. The hot water's already run out."

"Get out anyway!" Lenard demanded, knocking impatiently on the door.

"Give me a minute," Ethel replied, peeking out from behind the shower curtain in search of a towel, but of course, he hadn't brought one.

"Lenard!" Ethel called out in confusion. "I don't have a towel."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Lenard snapped. "Just dry off with anything and get out of the shower!"

"But I don't have anything," Ethel complained petulantly. "I left my clothes in the room. Could you bring me a towel? Please."

"For crying out loud!" Lenard muttered under his breath as he stomped over to the wardrobe.

After rummaging through the shelves for a moment, he grabbed the first towel he could find and returned to the bathroom.

"I'm coming in, princess," he said loudly as he opened the door and stepped into the small bathroom.

Ethelstan stood in the shower, modestly covering himself with the see-through curtain, his face blushing with embarrassment.

"Here!" Lenard shoved the towel at him, and when Ethelstan smiled gratefully, he added with irritation, "Now get out of here."

"Thanks," Ethel said sincerely, his cheeks still pink with slight embarrassment.

Lenard glared at him with barely concealed anger, but Ethelstan didn't feel afraid of him.

On the contrary, Lenard's unexpected act of kindness made Ethel's heart flutter with a deep sense of gratitude.

"I'm not used to carrying towels with me," Ethel confessed as he wrapped himself in the soft fabric and stepped out of the shower.

The cold floor chilled his wet feet, and Ethelstan stood on tiptoe, hugging himself and shivering from the cold that crept through his body.

"Not used to it, huh?" Lenard scoffed, turning away from him and beginning to undress.

Ethelstan, still shivering, hadn't moved from his spot. Lenard, tossing his shirt into the laundry basket, glanced at him in surprise.

"Are you planning to stand there all night?" he asked irritably. "Or did you forget something else?"

"No," Ethel shook his head, but he was staring with fascination at his roommate's well-defined torso, where Lenard's muscles stood out impressively.

Lenard was indeed an attractive guy. He had a handsome face and a lean, toned body. And his large hands—though not delicate—sparked fiery fantasies in Ethel's mind. If he ever found himself in Lenard's hands, Ethel knew he'd plunge into pure bliss.

The vivid images, born from his active imagination, made Ethel's face flush with color. He quickly turned away from his roommate and darted out of the bathroom, scolding himself for his reaction.

Was he really going to throw himself at every man he met, like a starving dog at a bone? What shameless behavior! He needed to remind himself who he truly loved. He needed to keep thinking about Videgrel.

Back in the bedroom, Ethelstan pulled on his pajama pants, tossed his uniform carelessly onto the chair, and dove under the blanket.

The bedding smelled sickly sweet from fabric softener, making Ethel sneeze a few times, wrinkling his nose in disgust. But he had no choice but to tolerate this minor annoyance.

After lying down for a while, warming up and getting used to the unpleasant smell, Ethelstan finally relaxed and hugged the pillow. He felt so lonely, and by evening, that feeling had only grown stronger.

He wanted to go home, to his bed, or even better, to Videgrel's bed, where Videgrel would whisper to him that this nightmare was over. Then, he'd kiss him passionately and promise never to let his mother treat him so cruelly again.

These fantasies sent a shiver through Ethelstan's body, and a sweet ache spread through his lower abdomen.

If only he could go home and see Videgrel, he wouldn't need anything else. But sadly, that was precisely why they'd sent him to this academy—so he would stop fantasizing about the impossible.

***

When Lenard emerged from the shower, Ethelstan was already asleep. Trying not to make any noise, Lenard quietly walked to his bed, carefully hung his clothes on the back of the chair, and slipped under the covers. But before he could settle in, a quiet, pained moan came from his roommate's side of the room.

Alert, Lenard turned toward him, peering at Ethelstan's flushed face. When the moan repeated, Lenard climbed out of bed and approached him.

Ethelstan's light hair was splayed across the pillow. His lips were moving as if he were trying to say something, and his face was twisted in such agony that it made Lenard uneasy.

He leaned over his roommate and softly called his name, but the only response was another pained sigh, followed by a distressed moan.

"Hey, Ethelstan," Lenard whispered, gently gripping his bare shoulder. "Wake up, it's just a nightmare."

His roommate's skin was burning hot, and Lenard realized that Ethelstan must have developed a fever after staying too long in the cold water.

"Are you feeling sick?" he asked again when Ethelstan's beautiful face contorted with pain.

Lenard flinched as he felt the hot touch of Ethelstan's fingers on his wrist.

"You said you wouldn't leave me. You promised, Videgrel. You promised," Ethelstan murmured, breathing heavily, then let out a ragged sigh and relaxed, releasing Lenard's wrist.

Lenard quickly straightened up and took a few steps back.

He had the strange sensation that he had just witnessed something he wasn't meant to see. Something very intimate... personal, and deeply unsettling.

A wave of awkwardness washed over him, and Lenard, hastily turning away from his roommate, crawled back into bed and closed his eyes.

Ethelstan continued mumbling in his sleep, but Lenard tried not to listen. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment, though he couldn't quite understand why he was reacting this way.

And when another moan-sigh echoed from the neighboring bed, Lenard just pulled the pillow over his head, trying to block out the awkward situation.

***

Ethelstan woke up in the middle of the night and, opening his eyes, didn't immediately realize where he was.

The room he was sleeping in was dark, and it smelled of cheap cleaning products, making his nose itch terribly.

He sat up in bed, sleepily surveying the shadowy room, and groped around on the nightstand for a glass of water. Instead, his hand found an electronic clock that lit up at his touch, projecting a red time display onto the ceiling.

According to the clock, it was half-past two in the morning.

Ethelstan groaned in frustration and flopped back onto his pillow.

He was unbearably thirsty. His mouth was completely dry, and his stomach kept growling, demanding any kind of food. But Ethel stubbornly ignored his body's needs, continuing to lie still in bed and focus on his feelings.

Once again, he was overwhelmed by homesickness. And then there was the creeping fear, slithering under his skin like tendrils, making him shiver with an unsettling chill.

Everything around him felt alien and disgusting. A strange room. A strange, huge building full of unfamiliar people. Strange smells. Strange sounds. Everything was foreign... repulsive... horrible... Even the guy sleeping in the next bed felt completely foreign to him.

Ethel squinted, trying to make out the faint silhouette of his roommate, and suddenly felt incredibly lonely and miserable. He wanted to hear a human voice, something to break the suffocating silence in the room. So, he softly called out:

"Lenard! Are you asleep?"

Naturally, there was no response. Ethelstan could hear his steady, peaceful breathing, the kind that only came from deep sleep, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

"Lenard! Wake up!" he demanded a little louder, feeling the sticky fear tighten its grip on his body.

Still, there was no reaction from Lenard.

So Ethel resorted to extreme measures. Grabbing his pillow, he threw it at his roommate and shouted:

"Wake up already! I'm scared!"

The sudden impact of something large and soft on his head jolted Lenard awake. He shot up in bed, looking around in alarm. The grogginess instantly evaporated. His heart pounded in his chest, racing at an insane pace, while a horrible, prickly lump lodged itself in his throat.

It took Lenard several long seconds to process what had happened. When he saw the extra pillow on his bed and the sight of his roommate staring at him, lips pouting in irritation, a cold wave of anger surged through his nerves.

"For crying out loud!" Lenard barked, hurling the pillow back at Ethelstan. "What the hell are you doing in the middle of the night?!"

"I'm scared..." Ethel repeated, secretly glad that Lenard was finally awake. "I kept calling you, but you didn't hear me. What was I supposed to do?"

Lenard cursed under his breath and flopped back onto his pillow.

"For God's sake, SLEEP! What else?!" he grumbled irritably. "Are you a little kid or something? Why the hell are you scared?"

"Have you never been scared in an unfamiliar place?" Ethelstan asked, genuinely surprised.

"No," Lenard snapped.

"Not even when you were little?"

"Not even then. Now shut up and go to sleep."

"I can't," Ethel said, shifting into a more comfortable position and hugging his pillow tightly, as if it could protect him from some unknown danger. "Let's talk for a bit. The silence is driving me crazy."

"So you decided to drive me crazy too, huh?" Lenard asked indignantly, sighing heavily as he turned to face Ethelstan.

Something told Lenard that his roommate wouldn't leave him alone. That he'd keep disturbing his sleep until either his need for late-night conversation was satisfied or Lenard ended up strangling him to death. So, Lenard chose the safer route. Propping his head up on his hand, he asked resignedly:

"Alright, what do you want to talk about, princess? But don't expect me to humor you with any nonsense."

Ethelstan smiled and immediately asked the first thing that came to his mind:

"Lenard, did you used to go to a regular school or a academy? I mean, a normal school, not a private one."

Lenard was caught off guard by the question. He had expected something more like «Do you believe in ghosts?» or «How many teeth does a male carnivorous tarsier have?» but certainly not about education.

"Of course, I went to school. What kind of question is that? Everyone goes to school."

"It's a normal question," Ethel said. "I didn't go to school. This is the first time I've been away from home without someone accompanying me. That's why I'm scared."

He sighed heavily and wrapped himself tighter in the blanket, as the room felt cold and even a bit damp.

"What?" Lenard asked in surprise. "What are you, Rapunzel or something?"

Ethelstan just pouted and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

Lenard was about to throw in another jab, but the loud growling of Ethelstan's stomach interrupted his train of thought.

Lenard shook his head, reached into his bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out the apple he had grabbed from the dining hall.

"Catch, Snow White!" he tossed the fruit to Ethelstan and collapsed back onto his pillow. "You must've done something really terrible to get sent to this dump."

Something small but heavy landed on Ethel's lap. Reaching for the unknown object, he was surprised to find it was an apple.

His mouth immediately watered, and without hesitation, Ethelstan sank his teeth into the firm, juicy fruit, rolling his eyes in pleasure.

The sweet juice flowed over his tongue and down his throat, silencing his stomach's complaints in anticipation of food. Ethel chewed the bite and swallowed it, then devoured the rest of the apple in just a few bites, leaving only the core.

"Thanks!" he breathed, expressing deep gratitude to his roommate for the gesture. "That was very generous of you."

He set the core on the nightstand and lay down, pulling the blanket over himself and hugging it tightly.

"So, what happened to you, princess?" Lenard asked, staring up at the ceiling. "How did you end up here?"

Ethel was silent for a moment before deciding to answer:

"I fell in love with someone I shouldn't have. That's what ruined me."

Lenard laughed out loud upon hearing that.

Well, well! So he wasn't the only one sent to this godforsaken place because of romantic entanglements.

"Looks like the older generation has a new trend—'Don't let love wither, rip it out by the roots,'" Lenard said bitterly, letting out a deep sigh. "That guy... Videgrel must've been a real thorn in your family's side."

Ethel froze upon hearing his stepfather's name. His heart began to race, pounding out a frantic, uneven rhythm.

"How do you know that name?" he asked softly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"You said it in your sleep," Lenard shrugged. "You called out for him, blaming him for promising you something... So I just guessed he's the one they sent you here for."

"Oh my god," Ethelstan buried his face in the pillow, burning with shame.

What else had he said in his delirium? What secrets of the heart had he spilled to his brooding roommate?

"Actually, Videgrel is my stepfather," Ethel finally muttered into the pillow. "Nothing ever happened between us, but my mother went insane with jealousy and sent me to this academy. He really did promise me that he wouldn't let anyone hurt me. But it turns out all his words were just lies to lull me into complacency."

"You don't need to justify yourself," Lenard said quietly, feeling awkward again as he quickly turned away.

"It's none of my business. Anyway, you should get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be rough, and you won't be able to pretend to be Aurora. So get some rest, princess."

"Goodnight," Ethel said, a little disappointed, as fear crept back in.

What did Lenard think of him now? He must have figured out that Ethel was gay. And now he would probably avoid him, worried about his own reputation.

Ethelstan sighed heavily and turned away from his roommate, trying to hold on to the last bits of his composure.

Life in this academy was going to be a real test for him if Lenard stopped talking to him. But Ethel couldn't expect understanding from his roommate when even his own mother hadn't shown it. He would just have to get used to living in an atmosphere of hostility and complete loneliness.

Ethel burrowed under the blanket, hiding from the invasive, unpleasant thoughts, but he couldn't fall asleep until morning.

Enjoy your reading. The next chapter will be published on January 12, 2025.