***

The car parked in front of the tall wrought-iron gates of St. Isaac's Academy, and Videgrel, stepping out of the vehicle, headed toward the gatehouse.

"Hello," the man greeted the elderly security guard. "My name is Videgrel Roger. I'm the guardian of Ethelstan Zitris. May I see him?"

The security guard gave Videgrel a scrutinizing look, as if scanning him, before opening a large visitor log.

"Did you make an appointment?" he asked, scanning the names in the list.

"No, there wasn't one. I'm here at the request of his mentor. He called this morning and asked for a parent to come," Videgrel explained the reason for his visit.

"I see."

The guard set the log aside and reached for the phone. After the teacher confirmed Videgrel's story, the guard handed him a visitor form that needed to be filled out before entering the academy grounds.

After completing the necessary fields and writing in his details, Videgrel returned the form to the guard and was about to head toward the entrance, but the guard stopped him.

With an apologetic smile, the guard handed Videgrel two more forms. One was an entirely pointless, in Videgrel's view, social survey, while the other was a waiver granting permission for video and photo recording of his presence on campus, as well as an acknowledgment that he had read the rules and agreed to follow them.

After completing the required paperwork and signing his name in three different registers, the guard finally smiled warmly and pressed the button to unlock the door.

"Go ahead," the guard said when the light above the door turned green. "The first-year mentor is waiting for you in the lobby."

"Thank you," Videgrel replied and finally passed through the gatehouse.

As if guiding him, the autumn wind pushed along a lone yellow leaf that had been torn from a nearly bald tree. A few large raindrops fell onto the cobblestone path beneath Videgrel's feet, shed by the gloomy, low clouds rushing north, where the weather forecast promised rain later in the day. A bird cried out in the distance, and an old maple tree rustled its branches. Videgrel thought to himself that this was perhaps the most serene and beautiful place one could imagine for an academy.

Still, given the choice, he wouldn't have set foot on these grounds even if offered untold treasures, let alone sent a child here.

But he didn't have children of his own, and Miranda, despite all his pleas, had been unwavering in her decision. And now Videgrel was paying the price with a headache, bad mood, and a sense of foreboding.

Miranda had called him as he was on his way home from work, demanding that Videgrel deal with Ethelstan's rebellious behavior.

The guy, as expected, had found a way to express his dissatisfaction with the unfair treatment he felt he was receiving—by staging a prolonged hunger strike, which greatly concerned the first-year mentor, who had informed Miranda about it.

The conversation with his wife had been incredibly tense. Miranda was torn between worrying about her son and being jealous of him at the same time. She forbade Videgrel from seeing the guy, yet at the same time wanted him to talk some sense into the unruly child.

This contradiction led to a serious argument between them, but in the end, Miranda's maternal instincts won out over her jealousy.

Videgrel wasted no time arranging the meeting with Ethel. After a shower and a change of clothes, he drove straight to the academy, hoping that Ethelstan would listen to reason and stop tormenting himself, him, and Miranda.

Crossing the courtyard, Videgrel climbed the wide steps to the low porch, and pushing the door open, entered the building.

In the lobby, as promised, someone was waiting for him.

A thin man, who introduced himself as the first-year mentor, extended a narrow, dry hand, which Videgrel promptly shook.

"I understand you're Ethelstan's stepfather?" the teacher asked gruffly.

Videgrel gave a brief nod.

"In general, we have no complaints about your stepson's behavior," the man said, getting straight to the point. "However, his refusal to eat concerns not only me but the administration as well."

Videgrel listened intently as the man gestured for him to follow and frowned more deeply with each passing moment.

"Did he explain why he refuses to eat?" Videgrel asked after the teacher finished.

"Yes," the man replied. "'People don't belong in a pigsty,' 'I won't eat in a barn,' 'I want my own table and food, not slop.' That's just part of his reasoning, and believe me, there were plenty of explanations. Ethelstan turned out to be quite talkative when it came to discussing food."

"Talkative is right," Videgrel sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed in front of the mentor. "May I speak with him?"

"Of course," the man nodded. "That's why I invited you. However, he's in class right now, and the academy rules don't allow students to be taken out of lessons. The only exceptions are poor health, serious illness, or the death of a close relative. No one has died, I hope?"

Videgrel shook his head, and the man nodded approvingly.

"Good. Health is the most important thing. In any case, here we are."

The mentor stopped at the door to one of the classrooms and gestured toward it.

"The lesson will end in a few minutes. You can wait here and take Ethelstan as soon as he leaves the classroom. If your conversation runs long or if he's late for his next class for any reason, please inform the office. We have strict penalties for missed lessons."

Videgrel nodded, and after saying goodbye to the man, walked over to the large, wide window.

***

"The process of separating our distant ancestors from the world of great apes took a considerable amount of time. For example, Australopithecines, who were not much different from apes in terms of intelligence, exhibited traits of upright walking or bipedalism, while most primates continued to move on four legs. Thus, scientists were able to suggest that bipedalism preceded the development of intelligence in humans, rather than the other way around, as was previously thought. Following from this..."

The loud rumbling of Ethelstan's stomach drowned out the teacher's voice as he lectured about early human history, and Ethelstan grimaced in pain.

His body felt feverish, but as soon as he bent over and rested his head on the desk, a wave of chills swept across his skin.

For the past four days, he had been feeling absolutely miserable. His hunger was so intense that even thinking about food caused his insides to twist in painful spasms, bringing tears to his eyes. But Ethelstan stubbornly endured these sufferings, determined to make the academy administration reconsider its stance on his meals. So far, however, he was losing this uneven battle.

For the first two days, Lenard had snuck fruits and bread for him from the dining hall, but then he got caught and was punished with four hours of detention in the solitary cell. Ethelstan was summoned to the disciplinary office, where he was given a stern warning. Mr. Eigert graphically described the punishment he planned to impose on Lenard for enabling Ethel's whims, and out of fear for his roommate's well-being, Ethelstan refused any more food from him.

Now, he felt his strength rapidly draining and could think of nothing but eating even a crumb of bread. Unfortunately, Lenard hadn't brought anything for him today. Worse, the guy had lashed out at him in the morning, threatening to drag him to the dining hall by his hair and shove food down his throat if he didn't come to his senses. Secretly, Ethelstan hoped his roommate would make good on his threat and force-feed him, even if it meant doing so in the "pigsty".

The mere thought of food made his stomach growl again, tightening into a knot of pulsing pain.

Lenard, who was sitting in front of Ethel, turned around and shot him an irritated look. Then, with a quick motion, he tossed a crumpled piece of paper at him and turned back to the board.

Ethelstan smoothed out the hastily scribbled note and read:

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer, idiot. You're coming to the dining hall with me at lunch, no arguments."

Ethel smirked and scribbled back, "I'm not going anywhere, leave me alone," before tossing the note over Lenard's shoulder.

Thankfully, the teacher didn't notice their covert exchange. He was standing by the board, showing slides of early humans and rattling off complicated terms, threatening to give them a test next lesson.

Ethelstan barely managed to stifle a groan of despair.

Damn this academy!

He wondered if his mother had already been informed that he was wasting away from hunger and misery here. And if she had, when would she take action to resolve the situation with his meals? Was she waiting for him to be hospitalized with gastritis?

Ethel had no answers to these questions, and the sense of hopelessness overwhelmed him as he hugged the desk and resisted the urge to chew on a sheet of notebook paper.

Time seemed to drag painfully slowly until the end of the lesson. He'd replayed his favorite song in his head three times, recalled several silly childhood rhymes, and daydreamed about Videgrel sitting by his hospital bed. Finally, he sighed in relief as the bell rang for break.

Lenard was the first to stand up, and turning to him, said gloomily:

"I've got cookies. Let's go to the alcove, and I'll feed you."

"Thanks, but I'm already fed up with this academy and can't wait to faint from hunger," Ethelstan replied as he stood and headed for the door, trying to ignore the slight dizziness.

But as soon as he crossed the threshold, a cry of disbelief and joy escaped his lips when he saw his stepfather standing by the window.

"Videgrel!" Ethelstan exclaimed, unable to believe his eyes, and rushed toward the man he had missed terribly these past few days.

He wanted to embrace his stepfather, to pour out all his worries, his pains, and the torment of the endless four days, but Videgrel was holding those cursed lilies, and that made Ethelstan stop just two steps away and plaster a simple smile on his face.

"Hi," he breathed, trying to hold back the emotions swirling inside him. "Where's Mom? Did she really let you see me?"

The smile on Videgrel's lips disappeared the moment he saw his stepson.

It had only been a few days since they'd last spoken, but Ethelstan seemed like a completely different person. His face had become gaunt and pale. His once vibrant, youthful skin had taken on a grayish hue, as if dusted with ash. Dark shadows had settled under his eyes, making him look exhausted and ill. Even his hair had lost its usual shine, transforming from beautiful curls into a neat yet lifeless mop.

"Gods! Ethel, what are you doing to yourself?" Videgrel asked, ignoring his stepson's question, his voice full of concern. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I refuse to eat in a pigsty," Ethel replied, staring intently at the tempting centers of the flowers, which looked so appetizing, as if Videgrel were holding a gourmet dessert rather than plants. "It disgusts me. The students crowd onto one bench and throw food around. They might as well have sent me to a farm to eat with the pigs from a trough."

"You're exaggerating," Videgrel shook his head, pursing his lips.

It was physically painful to look at his stepson. Videgrel desperately wanted to take the guy to a decent restaurant and feed him, feed him, and feed him until he was as plump as the pigs he had mentioned.

"Your mother's worried about you, you know that?" Videgrel tried to guilt him. "She's beside herself."

"And I'm supposed to be touched by that?" Ethel scoffed. "If she's so worried, why didn't she come here herself and check out the conditions I'm forced to live in? Did I do something so terrible to deserve this?"

Ethelstan spoke calmly, but Videgrel could hear the tremor in his voice. He also saw the tears that made the guy's eyes glisten.

Taking a deep breath, Videgrel pulled the guy into a tight embrace.

"You've done nothing wrong," Videgrel tried to comfort him. "But there's no need to put yourself through this. I'm worried about you, Ethel. I'm very worried."

"I don't want to stay in this academy," Ethel whispered, pressing close to his stepfather, still feeling that irresistible attraction to him.

The man's body, his scent, his handsome features, and gentle hands—all of it stoked the fire in Ethelstan's heart. He simply couldn't bring himself to give up these feelings.

"Take me away from here. I promise I won't even look in your direction. Just help me escape this prison."

"I'm sorry," Videgrel said, stroking the guy's back gently, "I can't. I may be your guardian, but your mother holds more authority, and her quiet word will always outweigh any shout I make."

"Then why did you come? To scold me?" Ethel asked bitterly.

"To feed you," Videgrel smiled. "But my cunning plan seems to have failed miserably. Instead of carrying it out, I'm just standing here hugging you." He released Ethel from the embrace and stepped back slightly. "Take the flowers to your room, and then let's go have lunch. We can discuss everything while we eat."

Ethelstan beamed, but then shot a suspicious look at his stepfather.

"You're not planning on eating with me in the dining hall, are you?" he asked with a frown.

Videgrel laughed and shook his head.

"We'll go to a restaurant. While you get ready, I'll grab a pass for you. Meet me in the lobby."

"Alright," Ethelstan smiled graciously and, clutching the lilies to his chest, hurried off to the dormitory.

As he passed Lenard, who stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, Ethel shot him a meaningful look.

"I won," his sky-blue eyes seemed to say, "I always get what I want."

***

Forty minutes later, they were seated in a cozy Italian restaurant, and Videgrel watched with a smile as Ethelstan devoured a double portion of Sicilian risotto.

The guy ate with great appetite, though none of his movements betrayed just how hungry he really was.

With refined grace, Ethel lifted each spoonful to his mouth, chewing slowly, savoring every grain of rice, and even closing his eyes in delight, almost purring with satisfaction.

"I can see you're enjoying it," Videgrel said with a smile, taking a small sip of Chianti.

"Well, of course," Ethel replied with a sated grin. "I've been surviving on apples and stale bread for two days, and on air and water for the last two. A proper meal is like a gift from above."

"So you did go to the dining hall after all," Videgrel smirked, but Ethel shook his head in response.

"Then where did the apples and bread come from? Did they fall from the sky?"

"You could say that," Ethel chuckled, leaning back in his chair and contentedly rubbing his stomach. "Thanks to Lenard the Savior, my moody and reclusive roommate. He was feeding me until he got punished for it."

Videgrel raised an eyebrow.

"You've made a friend?" he asked, noticing the kind smile on Ethelstan's lips. "That's good. What's not good is that he's being punished because of you. Or are you just using him for your own ends, you little manipulator?"

"How was I supposed to know that sharing food was forbidden?" Ethel replied with a question of his own. "When they punished him, I stopped eating anything altogether. I haven't had a crumb in my mouth for two days now. So, I'm not using him—he does everything on his own initiative."

Videgrel suppressed a smile.

He had experienced Ethelstan's version of "his own initiative" firsthand, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for Lenard. However, he chose not to voice this thought and decided to move on to the most pressing matter.

"Ethel, I hope you understand that I can't feed you every day. But starving yourself isn't the solution either. You'll just end up with an ulcer. Perhaps you should reconsider your stance? It's possible that your first impression of the dining hall was just a shock. Maybe it's not as bad as it seemed to you?"

"It was exactly as bad as I said!" Ethelstan stubbornly insisted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I'm not sitting at a communal table. It's unacceptable. I don't want people throwing food at me, spitting into my plate, or rubbing up against me. I'd rather get an ulcer, but I'll never set foot in that pigsty." He pursed his lips in irritation and looked at his stepfather with a hint of despair. "Why does she hate me so much? Why did she send me to this horrible place?"

Videgrel reached out and clasped Ethel's hand firmly, trying to offer his support.

"Your mother doesn't understand what this academy is really like," he shook his head. "The glowing praises of some of her colleagues about this school drown out anything I have to say. I can't get through to her, no matter how hard I try."

Videgrel sighed and, after a brief pause, continued:

"I'll try to resolve the issue with your meals. And I might even succeed, but... that's not what's really worrying me."

He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully, and then finally voiced what had been troubling him all these days:

"Has anyone been bothering you? Have you been bullied? Threatened? I know what St. Isaac's Academy is like, and I'm well aware of what sometimes happens there. If you're in danger, I need to know."

Ethel remained silent, wondering if he should tell Videgrel about the older student who had cornered him and tried to kiss him.

It had happened when Leonard was locked up in detention. Ethel had been walking back to his room alone when a broad-shouldered creep looking for some "fun" had approached him. The guy had groped him in all the wrong places and slobbered on his cheek before panting like a locomotive and promising him a hot time in some storage room.

Ethelstan had managed to escape and run away, but he couldn't sleep that night until Lenard returned. Since then, he had stuck to his roommate like glue, but he still hadn't worked up the courage to tell him what had happened.

Now, clutching Videgrel's hand tightly, Ethel couldn't find the words to share his fears. He didn't know if Videgrel would believe him or if he'd just accuse him of overthinking everything again.

For a brief moment, Ethel's hand gripped Videgrel's more firmly, but it was enough for the man to understand—someone had indeed been bothering him. The flicker of fear in Ethel's large blue eyes said more than any words could.

"I knew it," Videgrel muttered under his breath, quietly cursing as he anxiously thought of how to protect Ethelstan. "How bad is it? Were you threatened?"

Ethel let out a mocking snort, trying to mask his disgust and fear, and replied:

"I was persistently offered sex, despite my resistance."

Upon hearing his suspicions confirmed, Videgrel's face darkened like a storm cloud, ready to burst with thunderous fury. His anger toward Miranda flared anew. His wife had been too stubborn to listen to his warnings, and now the situation was on the verge of a real disaster.

"Listen," Videgrel exhaled heavily, "I'll do my best to fix this too. But... you need to defend yourself. Remember, no matter how hopeless the situation may seem, there's always something nearby you can use to fight back."

"I'll remember," Ethelstan promised with a crooked smile. "But if I can't manage it, you won't turn away from me, right? You won't stop loving me if something terrible happens?"

"That won't happen," Videgrel said firmly, dismissing any thoughts of a bad outcome. "No one will touch you. I give you my word." He tried to smile at his stepson, but the worry that gnawed at his heart turned his smile into a nervous grimace. "If you're done eating, let's head back to the academy. I want to speak with your principal."

"So soon?" Ethel asked, sounding disappointed. "I haven't seen you in four days."

"It's for your own good," Videgrel reminded him. "If the principal isn't available, we'll have to delay solving your problems. It's better to go now and take our chances."

"Will you take me home for the weekend?" Ethelstan asked, his heart skipping a beat.

"I definitely will," Videgrel assured him.

Given the circumstances, he had no choice but to protect Ethel from potential danger. And if Miranda objected, well... they'd just have to have another argument.

"I promise I'll take you," he repeated with a smile. "Now let's go. We shouldn't waste any time."

Ethelstan didn't protest. But as he rose from the table, he asked Videgrel to buy a dessert to go.

"It's for Lenard," he explained. "I want to apologize for the trouble I've caused him."

Videgrel nodded with a smile.

It was good that Ethelstan had made a friend. In this academy, he needed someone who could support him in difficult times. And something told Videgrel that there would be plenty of those during his time at this school.

***

Ukraine...

Isaac first heard of this country twelve years ago from a young man he met in Egypt.

Viktor had joined him at his table in the restaurant to confess his feelings. At the time, Isaac, gripped by paranoia, had brusquely told him to get lost. But eventually, things resolved themselves, and what started as a simple conversation soon blossomed into a romantic relationship.

Viktor was bisexual, and Isaac himself...

Isaac smirked, recalling the days gone by.

He had become gay almost out of spite, just to irritate his father and brother, who started accusing him of homosexuality when things weren't going well with women. His family repeatedly told him that it was wrong, provocative, and sinful, and Isaac, who had always had a sharp and curious mind from a young age, decided to test their claims. Was it really as awful as they said?

He still remembered his first experience with a man. A strong, slender body, honest in its desires, legs tense and gripping his back, and the hot, tight passage he couldn't get enough of, driving his lover to cries of pain and deep erotic moans.

It had been amazing. And after tasting that forbidden fruit once, Isaac couldn't stop. There was no going back to the "righteous" path.

He did everything he could to fully meet his father and brother's worst fears. At first, he changed lovers like gloves, appearing in public with each new one. Then he entered a long-term relationship with a young man from Ukraine. Isaac didn't hide his visits to the most scandalous places, like the "Scarlet Cube." He delighted in corrupting naïve minds at the private academy he had founded for just such purposes.

No, he wasn't interested in the students sexually. Isaac was studying their psychology, their behavior in confined spaces under extreme circumstances. He gave them the opportunity to overcome challenges on their own, fostering resilience and exposing them to healthy competition for a place in the sun. Meanwhile, he provided them with a solid foundation of knowledge to help them navigate life with a broad intellectual perspective and strong self-confidence.

Of course, not every student made it through his academy with dignity. When natural selection came into play, only the strongest and most stress-resistant survived. And what a thrilling game it was, drawn out and intoxicating...

Yes, Isaac had found his calling in life. He was a great teacher and mentor. It was just a shame that many of his students failed to grasp the deeper meaning behind his teaching methods.

But back to Ukraine.

Isaac picked up a photo from the table, one of Viktor standing in front of a shabby seaside bay. He gazed at his lover's familiar face and tall, slender figure. Then, with a deep, calming breath, he set the picture back down.

Wealth, connections, power, a sharp mind... What good were they if he couldn't accomplish one simple thing—getting the love of his life out of that wretched country?!

Feeling a surge of frustration, Isaac dialed Viktor's number. Viktor's voice always calmed him down, and this time was no different.

"Isaac, did something happen?"

"Why would anything have happened?" Isaac responded, surprised, before quickly asking the question weighing on him most. "How's the visa situation?"

Viktor snorted.

"I've always admired your unbridled romanticism," he quipped, followed by a weary sigh. "No change. I got denied again."

"Damn it!" Isaac swore, the frustration genuine. "And I won't be able to make it out there for at least a few months. But as soon as I can get a free weekend, I'll fly over, and we'll try to figure something out with the paperwork."

"Don't worry about it," Viktor replied. "They have to grant it eventually. Besides, it's not entirely hopeless. They said my chances went up by half a percent this time."

"Maybe we should just use my connections?" Isaac tried his luck but immediately regretted it when Viktor launched into a tirade of choice curses.

"Alright, alright, I was just asking," Isaac said quickly once Viktor stopped, angrily huffing into the phone. "I miss you. That's why I'm talking nonsense. Sorry."

There was a pause before Viktor spoke again, softly this time.

"I miss you too. I'm as sick of this mess as you are," he sighed heavily. "I love you. So much. Come soon."

"I'll try," Isaac promised.

And after excusing himself with urgent matters, he ended the call.

The longing for his lover was sometimes unbearable. Now, after setting the phone aside, Isaac felt the full weight of their long-distance relationship. He and Viktor had been together for twelve years, but they still couldn't build a normal life together, all because of the cursed bureaucracy. He was tired of it.

He had been about to call an old friend with government connections when a call from his secretary interrupted his plans.

"Principal, there's a visitor for you. Mr. Roger. He says it's urgent, but he doesn't have an appointment..."

"Let him in immediately!" Isaac ordered, rising sharply from his seat and heading to the door to personally greet this undoubtedly valuable and important visitor.

Videgrel Roger, the owner of the "Scarlet Cube". A strikingly handsome and charismatic man, who skillfully managed his business while understanding the needs and tastes of his clientele.

This exotic and magnificent flower had been carefully nurtured by the Japanese businessman who adopted him, becoming a true feast for the eyes. His refined manners and almost otherworldly beauty made hearts flutter with admiration, while his alluring physique stirred vivid fantasies. Yet even Isaac would have thought twice before laying a hand on this fragrant blossom, knowing the fiery temper of his guardian. After all, just thinking about a heated night in the arms of the long-haired beauty could cost someone not only their limbs but other, far more important body parts.

Isaac chuckled thoughtfully as he opened the door to his office, warmly greeting the young businessman and shaking his elegant, well-groomed hand.

"Mr. Roger, what a pleasant surprise!" the principal beamed with a welcoming smile. "I never imagined I'd see you within the walls of my institution. What brings you to me? I trust your father is well?"

"My father is in good health," Videgrel quickly reassured the principal. "His business keeps him tied to Japan, but he promised to visit the States for a couple of days when he gets the chance. However, I must trouble you for another reason."

Videgrel shot a brief glance at the secretary, who pretended to be engrossed in some documents, then turned his gaze back to Isaac's mischievous eyes.

"Could we speak in private?" he asked politely.

"Of course." Isaac gestured invitingly toward the office. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

As the man made his way to the chair closest to the desk, Isaac closed the door tightly behind him.

"Would you like coffee, or perhaps something stronger?" the director offered.

"Something stronger sounds perfect." Videgrel nodded as he sat down in the chair.

The principal smiled and moved toward the bookcase. He pulled on one of the books with a stiff spine, revealing a hidden compartment, and retrieved a bottle of finely aged cognac and two glasses. Returning to the desk, he settled into his chair.

"So, Mr. Roger," Isaac said, pouring the cognac into the glasses, "I assume this is quite an important matter?"

"I'm sure you already know why I'm here," Videgrel smirked. "Nothing within your institution escapes your notice, does it?"

Isaac gave a self-satisfied smile, drawing out his words.

"You've come to talk about Ethelstan Zitris," the principal stated confidently. "I've heard of this guy. A charming, headstrong young man. Quite the personality. High standards in life. He possesses decent manipulative skills and a sharp mind. He's quite my kind of person. But unfortunately, such individuals often crumble under the pressure of fate. And my academy—it's a real Coliseum, where only the strongest survive. How did you even allow such a pampered, delicate child to end up in a den of chaos and vice like mine?"

"If it were up to me, he wouldn't have come within a mile of your academy," Videgrel admitted honestly and took a sip of his cognac. "But my dear wife isn't acquainted with you, and her opinion of your institution is based entirely on the positive reviews from some of her colleagues. My voice, it seems, was drowned out."

"A pity," Isaac feigned a sorrowful expression. "I've always said, foolish women cause more trouble than they're worth. But perhaps Mrs. Zitris was simply misled. I won't judge her intelligence based on this one mistake."

He took a small sip of the bitter drink and set the glass aside, smiling openly at Videgrel. But in his bright green eyes, a strange detachment remained, indirectly confirming the rumors of Isaac's disdain for women.

"Impulsiveness makes fools of many," Videgrel said blandly. "Nevertheless, we are where we are. Ethelstan is enrolled at your academy, and there's no changing that. Unless you expel him yourself. But you have no reason to do so, which means he'll stay until graduation. Still... I have a favor to ask of you."

"Is that so? Hmm..." Isaac's smile widened. "Well, I'm all ears, and if it's within my power, I'll help."

Videgrel smiled gratefully.

"To begin with, I'd like to mention that Ethelstan is very dear to me. His self-destructive refusal to eat pains me deeply. If this were just one of his whims or a ploy to gain attention, I would have let your methods steer him in the right direction. However, the reason lies in personal matters. Thus, I dare to ask you to make an exception to the rules and allow him to eat in his room, instead of joining the communal canteen. In return, I will do you a favor and make an exception to the rules of my club for you."

"An exception?" Isaac leaned forward slightly, biting his lower lip. "Are you referring to the Cube? You mean that, don't you? Say it, Mr. Roger, and your stepson will receive a privilege no other student has ever had."

Isaac's eagerness was as good as a sealed agreement. All that remained was to formalize the deal, which Vidégrel was quick to do.

"Indeed," he confirmed the principal's suspicion with a polite smile. "I'm offering you an exclusive indulgence at the Cube, with an equally exclusive program. As I mentioned, Ethelstan is very important to me."

"How fortunate that the guy has captured your heart so deeply," Isaac concluded.

But inwardly, he thought how Zitris's whims had done him an unexpected favor he could hardly have dreamed of.

The thing was, no clients were ever admitted to the Cube. Only the finest professionals worked there—men who were well-trained, talented performers capable of truly igniting the crowd. No exceptions were made, not even for the closest friends. And now, some guy's reckless antics had opened the gates of paradise for Isaac, while simultaneously putting Videgrel at risk before his guardian.

Unbelievable! Such a minor issue could trigger a true drama. Yet here was Mr. Roger, with a calm smile, poised to take a reckless step forward.

"I accept your offer," Isaac said seriously. "And, since you're taking such a risk with this venture, I'd like to offer you another favor, completely free of charge."

"Another one?" Videgrel asked, genuinely surprised.

Isaac Eisen wasn't the kind of man who did favors without seeking something in return. Videgrel felt a chill run down his spine at the seemingly dangerous generosity.

"Indeed," Isaac confirmed. "Perhaps your stepson could use some supervision. A discreet bodyguard of sorts, who can prevent any impending trouble while also ensuring young Zitris doesn't embarrass himself in front of his peers. I happen to know just the candidate for this role—a man who loves to impose his own rules in the academy."

Supervision would be beneficial for Ethelsten. Videgrel knew this well. But he still harbored doubts about Mr. Eisen's supposed selflessness.

"That would be wonderful," he nodded in agreement. "Still, as you like to say, 'a favor deserves repayment.' How might I thank you for such a generous offer I can hardly refuse?"

"Thank your unparalleled beauty," Isaac said without a hint of flattery. "It was a pleasure to admire you during our conversation. Your father is incredibly fortunate."

Videgrel raised an eyebrow in surprise, but the principal only laughed in response.

Isaac Eisen was known for his eccentricity, and understanding his thoughts was sometimes impossible.

"Nevertheless, I am deeply grateful to you," Videgrel said, rising. "I think I've taken enough of your time and attention, so I will leave. The only thing left to discuss is the date and time when you can visit my club. But we can arrange that over the phone. The choice is yours. I want you to fully enjoy your entertainment. Ah, and is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Surprise me." Isaac smiled mischievously, escorting Videgrel to the door. "I could use some wonder in this crazy world."

"I think I can manage that," Videgrel replied playfully, shaking the principal's hand. But before leaving the office, he asked one more question: "Forgive my persistence, but I wanted to ask... Ethelstan's roommate, what's he like?"

"Oh, him? No need to worry. The guy comes from a very wealthy family and was raised with strict rules. His father is Ethan Legrim. I believe he's one of your business partners. Lenard is his youngest son."

The principal's words reassured Videgrel.

Ethan Legrim was a man of firm principles and moral standards, and he had likely passed on good manners to his child. Moreover, Ethelstan spoke warmly of his roommate, noting his kindness and selflessness.

"Thank you again, Mr. Eisen. I look forward to your call," Videgrel said as he departed, heading toward Ethelstan to deliver the good news and meet Lenard Legrim personally.

***

Lenard was on his way back from lunch, as usual, carrying two sandwiches and an apple for Ethelstan.

More than once, he had asked himself why he sneaked food to his roommate like a thief, repeatedly risking getting into trouble. But he still hadn't found an answer.

Ethelstan called it inner nobility, but Lenard considered himself nothing more than a fool, with a tendency toward masochism.

In just a few days, he'd been caught red-handed three times, whipped twice on the calves, once across the back, and even thrown into the solitary cell for a few hours—a place better described as a "torture chamber". Yet, the confinement in the cramped, damp room with its endlessly flickering light and deafening siren wasn't as bad as the blows from the long metal pointer that left red, stinging welts on his back for two whole days.

Despite all this, Lenard, with the stubbornness of a purebred mule, kept sneaking food to his starving roommate, feeling like a plucked hen clucking over her half-dead chick. And, in truth, Ethelstan did look the part. In less than a week, he had grown gaunt, turned a sickly pale gray, and looked so miserable that the urge to feed the poor guy outweighed Lenard's fear of punishment.

And today, to Lenard's surprise, Ethelstan was taken out of the academy.

A handsome, imposing man with ridiculously long hair and a bouquet of pure white lilies had arrived, hugged Ethelstan in the hallway—sparking a whirlwind of gossip at lunch—and took him away.

Ethelstan hadn't returned for the next two classes, and for some reason, Lenard couldn't focus on what the teachers were saying. He kept glancing out the window, which had a view of the main gate, and paid no attention to the lecture, earning himself a reprimand and a warning that his course mentor would be informed of his "unacceptable behavior" during the class. This promised an unforgettable conversation with Mr. Eigert, so Lenard forced himself to push thoughts of his roommate out of his mind. But the blonde leech seemed to have latched onto his brain, draining his common sense with tireless enthusiasm.

It took considerable effort for Lenard to convince himself that Ethelstan had simply been taken home and wouldn't return until next week—if at all. Maybe his parents would finally agree to transfer him to another school.

For some reason, that last thought left a bitter taste in Lenard's chest.

Because of his sullen and antisocial nature, Lenard didn't get along with people very well. Ethelstan had been a rare exception. He didn't take offense at Lenard's grumbling, didn't point out how to behave or not behave, didn't expect politeness or pleasantries. In his company, Lenard felt comfortable. At ease, even. And that's why he really didn't want Ethelstan to leave the academy.

Lenard knew it was wrong and incredibly selfish, but he couldn't shake the feeling. That's why his heart was heavy with sadness, and a hidden fear filled him with anger and frustration. These emotions only grew stronger when he stepped into their room and found Ethelstan dreamily smiling.

The guy was sitting on his bed, gazing at the massive bouquet of white lilies with an expression of tenderness, gently stroking the velvety petals with his fingertips. He didn't even notice Lenard's arrival, completely absorbed in his task.

Lenard felt a painful knot of inexplicable resentment tighten in his throat, but he fought to push the feeling down. He approached Ethelstan and held out his prey.

"Here, eat this," he muttered, stepping back toward his bed. "You'll be transparent soon."

"Lenard, I told you not to bring me food anymore," Ethelstan said with a hint of reproach in his voice. "Besides, I've already eaten today."

"You expect me to just watch you starve?" Lenard shot back, frowning. "Besides... you'll want to eat tonight anyway. Just hide it in your nightstand. Or throw it away. Whatever." He shrugged and turned away from the guy.

"All right, but this is the last time," Ethel said, tucking the food out of sight. Then he suddenly brightened. "I've got something for you too."

"What?" Lenard turned back to him, frowning suspiciously.

"A slice of Caprese cake with vanilla sauce," Ethelstan replied, offering him a piece of cake in a plastic container with a clear lid, his smile sweet and teasing. "There's even a strawberry. Take it, don't be shy. You won't get punished for this."

Lenard stared in surprise at the very appetizing slice of chocolate-almond cake, feeling his mouth water. He wasn't particularly fond of sweets, but somehow, Ethelstan had managed to guess and offer him one of his favorite desserts.

"Thanks," Lenard muttered quietly, accepting the treat and gripping the sturdy plastic of the package tightly.

A flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks, and Lenard fervently hoped his roommate wouldn't notice. So he quickly changed the subject.

"The man you were hugging... was that Videgrel?" Lenard asked, casting a sidelong glance at the flowers, which for some reason irritated him.

"That's right," Ethel replied, trying to keep his voice light. "He came to resolve the issue with the canteen. Hopefully, he'll be able to convince the academy administration to make an exception for me."

Lenard was silent for a few moments, thinking about what he'd just heard and trying to process his feelings.

It didn't seem like there was any talk of transferring to another college. But what if they couldn't come to an agreement? What then?

"And if they can't resolve it, will he take you away?" he finally asked, voicing the thought that troubled him the most.

Ethelstan's face darkened, and he shook his head.

"My mother won't let him. She'd rather I starved to death than let Videgrel and me stay home alone."

"Why?" The question slipped from Lenard's lips before he could stop it, and his gaze shifted from the flowers to his roommate's face, watching for any change in his expression.

"Oh, Lenard, don't be naive," Ethelstan replied, his voice a little hoarse. "I thought you would've figured it out by now."

Lenard's mouth went dry.

He wasn't homophobic, nor was he the kind of person who thought anything outside the norm was wrong or unnatural, yet for some reason, he didn't want to accept what Ethelstan was suggesting.

"Is it mutual?" he asked, even though he knew it would have been better to stay quiet and not pry.

"Of course not," Ethel replied. "Videgrel loves my mother, and nothing will change that. But... my mother doesn't trust me. She thinks I might steal her husband."

He gave a bitter chuckle and glanced at Lenard, whose face had darkened like a storm cloud.

"Why the frown? Afraid I'll start hitting on you too?" Ethelstan teased.

Lenard shot him an angry look but quickly reined himself in. Despite the teasing smile on Ethel's lips, there was a genuine unease in his eyes.

"As if," Lenard scoffed. "If you like guys like him, I've got nothing to worry about. We're in completely different leagues."

"Who said I'm only attracted to one type of guy?" Ethel raised an eyebrow, teasing Lenard further and making him even more flustered. "You're not bad yourself, you know. Why do you think I didn't want to leave the bathroom while you were undressing? I was curious to see your body. And, you know, I was pleasantly surprised."

Lenard blushed to the tips of his ears at those words, and Ethelstan burst out laughing.

"Oh, come on, I'm just kidding. Why are you so scared?" Ethel asked. "You are quite attractive, of course. But I don't think we're compatible... by horoscope."

"By IQ level," Lenard shot back, his pride stung by the teasing, even though he knew Ethel was probably just embarrassed by his own admission. "Yours must be below average if you believe in horoscopes."

"You're such a grouch," Ethelstan said with a mock disapproving shake of his head. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood so you won't be afraid of me."

"Why would I be afraid of you?" Lenard smirked. "Unless you plan to eat me in the middle of the night out of hunger. Or..."

Lenard didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. A soft knock sounded at the door, and the next moment it swung open, letting Ethelstan's stepfather into the room.

"Good afternoon," the man greeted with a bright smile, addressing Ethel's roommate, who looked remarkably similar to his father. "I assume you're Lenard?"

"Is there anyone else here?" Lenard muttered instead of offering a proper greeting, turning toward the window.

For some reason, this man really annoyed him. What bothered him the most, though, was the way Ethelstan looked at him.

"Uh..." Videgrel hesitated, glancing at his stepson, but Ethelstan just waved dismissively.

"Don't mind him," he said, jumping off the bed. "Lenard's a good guy, and he can even be polite sometimes. He's just in a bad mood today. Once he eats some cake, he'll be fine. Speaking of food, did you manage to sort that out?"

Ethelstan looked up at Videgrel with hopeful eyes, waiting for his answer, barely able to conceal his anticipation. And Videgrel had good news for his stepson.

"Let's step outside," he suggested, gently pulling Ethelstan into the hallway. "Lenard must be tired, and I don't want to disturb him."

Ethelstan didn't protest and quickly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Well? Don't keep me in suspense... Will I get my own table?"

"No," Videgrel shook his head, but immediately added, noticing the dark shadow that passed over the guy's face, "You'll have your meals brought to your room..."

He didn't finish the sentence. Ethelstan, barely containing a shout of joy, threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"I love you so much!" Ethel blurted out, clinging to his stepfather, unable to express the depth of his gratitude. "You saved me from starving to death!"

Videgrel smiled gently and closed his eyes for a moment, softly stroking Ethelstan's back.

"I managed to find a compromise this time," he said quietly, then pulled away, looking sternly into his stepson's eyes. "But, Ethel, I can't guarantee Mr. Eisen will be this accommodating in the future. So I'm asking you, stop with the antics. I'm not all-powerful."

"It's not antics," Ethel said, his voice tinged with hurt. "I get sick just thinking about the canteen. I'm not complaining about the food quality, or the cold water in the showers, or the hard classes, or the teachers treating us harshly. I can tolerate all that. But I can't stand the filth at the dining table."

"Don't be upset," Videgrel squeezed Ethelstan's shoulder in a conciliatory manner. "I know things are tough for you here, but unfortunately, I can't change that right now. I've secured the privilege of private meals for you, and I really hope my efforts won't be in vain. I trust you understand me."

"I won't let you down, I promise," Ethel said earnestly, then added hopefully, "Take me home tomorrow after classes. I'll behave, I swear. Mom won't have anything to complain about."

Videgrel nodded and tousled the guy's hair.

"I'll take you home," he promised with a smile. "I can't promise I'll spend the whole weekend with you, but I'll definitely take you home."

"Thank you," Ethel said, beaming, and with a sigh of relief, he followed the man downstairs.

They said their goodbyes there, and Ethelstan returned to the room in high spirits.

"I'm going home tomorrow," he announced from the doorway, addressing his roommate. Grabbing the flowers from the vase, he flopped onto the bed, clutching the lush stems and crumpling the delicate petals in his hands. "At least I'll get a couple of days away from this prison."

Lenard didn't respond and didn't even turn around. Ethelstan's voice was filled with genuine joy, but for some reason, it made Lenard feel sad. As if something important was being taken away from him... something he needed... something...

"What nonsense!" he mentally scolded himself. "As if you don't have anything else to think about! You're going home for the weekend too. So why the hell are you so upset?"

Lenard took a deep breath and exhaled quietly, continuing to stare out the window.

Just one more day, and he'd see Rachel. Just one day... and they'd be together again. No matter what, they'd still be together.

Enjoy your reading. The next chapter will be published on January 26, 2025.