Of course, it was a shock to be named a personal bodyguard—or rather, a candidate for the position.
But I couldn't deny there were advantages.
The first of them was the time Silius had promised me.
He hadn't managed to secure a full week.
But he gave me four days.
Four days alone in the forest.
With a tent.
With silence.
With meditation.
Every day, someone left food and water just beyond the boundary of the area assigned to me. They never crossed it. Never came close.
Good.
I wouldn't have tolerated it.
Even now, just remembering what had been done to me made something twist painfully in my chest.
My body reacted before my mind did.
A wave of nausea.
My throat tightening.
A flash—
hands.
Pressure.
I forced it down.
Buried it.
That incident had burned something out of me completely.
Any desire for sex at all was gone.
Completely.
But in its place,
something else appeared.
Fragile.
Unstable.
But real.
A kind of balance.
Taisha really was a genius.
As I packed my things and headed straight for the dorm showers, I felt a sharp, almost painful gratitude toward her.
—
"Hey, Alan."
Torrent's voice.
Careful.
Too careful.
"Hey," I said, forcing something that might pass for a smile.
"You're not ignoring me anymore?" he asked, relief slipping through.
"Sorry. Had a few bad days. I'm fine now."
A lie.
"I'm going to need the full story," he said with a grin, stepping in behind Matthew.
Formation.
Unchanged.
Me in front.
Matthew behind me.
Torrent after him.
Like nothing had happened.
Like everything was still normal.
I realized then—
none of them knew.
Not one of them.
The breath I let out was quiet.
Controlled.
Relief—
sharp enough to hurt.
I glanced back.
Alma.
Watching me.
Not looking away.
She knew.
I gave her a small nod.
A silent thank you.
For keeping quiet.
—
"Fifth-year elite class," Rigor began.
"All present."
Routine.
Order.
While the roll call continued, my gaze drifted across the rows—
and then stopped.
Him.
The leader.
Heat surged through me too fast, too suddenly.
My stomach twisted.
My skin crawled.
Then the others.
I found them too.
Watching me.
All of them.
Some of the teachers as well.
Did they know?
No.
If they knew, this wouldn't be happening like this.
"First-year Special class."
"All present," I said.
My voice didn't shake.
But it came close.
Too close.
—
Badges.
Announcements.
Routine.
I stepped forward when my name was called.
Took the badge.
Didn't let anything show.
Didn't let them see.
Another surprise—
Iveson.
Taking me as a personal student.
Not standard.
Didn't matter.
Learning mattered.
Control mattered.
—
"I hereby name Alan Holivan a candidate for my personal bodyguard," Silius said.
I stepped forward.
Everything slowed.
Too many eyes on me.
"Thank you for your trust, Lord Silius," I said, taking his hand. "I swear to serve you, to follow your orders without question, and to give my life for your safety."
Murmurs spread through the hall.
Shock.
Confusion.
Even the teachers.
Of course.
They understood what this meant.
So did I.
This wasn't just protection.
Clyde was taking a risk.
A serious one.
By doing this, he was openly declaring a conflict with the Holivan family.
Anyone who understood how this world worked—
knew it.
—
"So," the director said, her voice cutting cleanly through the noise, "we're done with the pleasant part?"
Her gaze settled on the fifth-year elites.
"Am I correct, Mr. Holivan?"
"I have nothing to add, Lady Gordinstreet," Theodore replied.
Tense.
Too tense.
"How strange," she said calmly. "Because last Saturday, you approached Instructor Houm and expressed your intention to appoint a fourth-year Special-class student—Tiror Mour—as your future bodyguard. You even issued a patronage badge ahead of time."
Silence.
"By academy rules, this should have been announced today. Why was it not?"
"I… changed my mind. I forgot to report it."
A lie.
A bad one.
"Since the verbal agreement was properly established, this student has already been considered a candidate for over a week. However," she continued, "several students were recently involved in a serious incident."
A pause.
"Pavel."
—
Rigor called five names.
They stepped forward.
Nervous.
All except one.
The leader.
Calm.
Of course he was.
So this is how it starts.
I almost laughed.
If I still could.
Everything that happened to me—
every second—
wasn't random.
It wasn't just cruelty.
It was ordered.
Planned.
By my own brother.
How much did his reputation matter—
if he was willing to tear his own blood apart to protect it?
—
"Mr. Holivan," the director said. "Step forward as well."
"I refuse to participate in this! Do not put me on the same level as these delinquents!"
"We have irrefutable evidence that you issued the order that led to severe consequences."
I was grateful she didn't say my name.
Didn't say what they did.
Didn't say how.
But it didn't last.
"First-year Special-class student Alan Holivan, who filed the complaint—step forward."
I looked at Silius.
He didn't move.
Didn't look at me.
Then—
Andrew.
Among the teachers.
Watching.
He gave a short nod.
That was enough.
I stepped forward.
—
"Since one of the accused had no authority to act on anyone's orders except his future employer," Rigor began, "we conducted a body memory review."
My stomach twisted.
"We confirmed that the order which resulted in severe physical and psychological harm to two first-year Special-class students was issued by Theodore Holivan."
Silence.
Heavy.
"We are therefore expelling him immediately for violating academy rules and intentionally causing harm to a student."
"You have no right!" Theodore shouted.
"Remove him."
Two figures in black stepped forward, grabbed him, and dragged him out.
His voice broke into shouting.
Then screaming.
Then nothing.
—
Pavel waited until the echoes of those screams faded, then continued.
"The following four students are also expelled for accepting the order and knowingly harming a fellow student."
Names.
One by one.
Then—
"As for Tiror Mour: he acted under the authority of his future employer. Mour, you are stripped of Theodore Holivan's patronage without penalty. Continue your studies."
I frowned.
Because the one I wanted most—
was still standing.
Untouched.
Unpunished.
Tiror met my gaze.
Smiled.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And winked.
Something cold settled in my chest.
Not rage.
Not panic.
Something quieter.
Something worse.
Pavel dismissed us.
I turned—
and caught Silius's expression.
Sharp.
Unfinished.
Good.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
I would find a way.
And when I did—
I wouldn't let him forget me.
Ever.