I had no idea how I was supposed to get through even a simple warm-up in this condition, but I didn't want to disappoint Andrew on my very first day.
Behind my back, Alma and Robert were arguing about what to do with me. Alma insisted I should be sent straight to the infirmary and officially excused from physical training. Robert, on the other hand, was trying to convince her that I was too stubborn for that—that I'd never agree.
Robert was right. But the fact that they were talking about me so loudly was starting to get on my nerves. It was also drawing way too much attention.
"Alan!"
A sharp, harsh voice cut through the noise, and every hair on my body stood on end. For a second, I thought it was Mr. Holivan growling—but when I turned around, I realized it was his eldest son.
One look at Theodore's face was enough.
He was furious.
"Get over here—now!" he snapped, grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the dining hall.
"Mr. Holivan," Alma said, stepping forward with a polite smile, "I understand he's your brother, but could you not handle him so roughly?"
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he shot back. "Stay out of our family business."
He yanked my arm again.
I followed, grimacing, barely holding back a groan. He didn't stop until we reached the main hall on the first floor. Then he pulled me toward a window—somewhere he thought no one would interfere.
He was wrong.
"Care to explain, dear brother," he said through clenched teeth, "what exactly you think you're doing? Is this some kind of teenage rebellion? Father's been searching for you all over the country, and you—how did it even cross your mind to enroll in the special division?"
"He was so upset about me not getting in," I shot back, "that I figured I'd take a different path. And here I am."
"Idiot! Do you have any idea what he'll do to you when he finds out?"
If Theodore wanted privacy, he picked the worst possible place. Students were already gathering nearby, openly watching and listening. They didn't even have to try—he was shouting loud enough for the entire floor to hear.
"And what exactly is he going to do?" I said. "Even if he wants to, he can't. You know the academy rules."
"You're going to the headmaster right now and asking to be expelled."
"No," I said calmly, but firmly.
"No?" His eyes widened. "Do you even understand what kind of consequences you're facing?"
He grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard enough that this time I couldn't hold back a groan.
"Stop shaking me," I hissed through clenched teeth, grabbing his wrist.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, glancing at the back of my hand—then suddenly seized it and rolled up my sleeve.
"There's not a single spot on you that isn't bruised!" he roared. "Who did this? Who?!"
"No one. I just fell down the stairs."
"Don't lie to me! Alan, what happened to you? Why have you changed so much? Is this because of your memory loss? Go to the headmaster—right now. Once you're home, they'll fix you!"
"I told you—I'm not going," I said, pulling my arm free and yanking my sleeve back down.
"Then I'll take you there myself." He grabbed my forearm again and tried to drag me off.
"Get off me!" I snapped, my voice rising. "I said I'm not leaving this place—not on my own, not ever!"
"Oh, you will. Stop disgracing the family! Stop making my life harder! I'll tell Father to have you treated—and if that's what it takes, locked up in a psychiatric clinic!"
"You don't get to decide that!" I shouted, the desperation finally breaking through.
"Listen to yourself—the one who chose to become a servant!"
"Theodore Holivan."
A calm voice cut cleanly through the tension. We both turned.
"I heard the commotion and thought I must be mistaken," Clyde Silius said evenly.
"Silius? Sorry, I'm a bit busy right now. If you've got something to say, it can wait."
Clyde glanced at me—at the thin layer of powder on my chin—then back at Theodore.
"You're a council member. And the head's assistant. It's my duty to remind you of the academy's rules. Holivan, you've always been known for your composure—and if I remember correctly, you know those rules by heart."
"What are you getting at?" Theodore frowned, looking even more like his father.
"Alan Holivan," Clyde said, looking at me again, "is your younger brother—but he is also a first-year in the special division. What you're doing right now could be considered coercion. It would be unfortunate if your exemplary record were tarnished by a disciplinary note. That might affect your future appointment. I hear you've already been offered a position in the main division. Quite impressive."
"I'm acting as his older brother," Theodore replied stiffly. "I'm concerned about his mental state. I can't just stand by and watch him ruin his life."
"Mental state? So what you said about memory loss is true?" Clyde studied me briefly. "He doesn't look unstable to me. At the moment, Alan is a student of the special division—and as such, he has the right to file a complaint. Wouldn't it be wiser to leave him alone?"
"…You're right. I overstepped." Theodore finally released my arm. "Thank you for helping me regain my composure."
He gave me a cold look.
"In that case, first-year Holivan, I will request an evaluation of your mental condition. I'm certain that if you were in your right mind, you would never have made such a reckless decision."
He looked me over one last time, then turned and walked away.
I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding.
"Thank you, Mr. Silius," I said, turning to Clyde. "In just three days at the academy, you've already helped me twice."
"I don't like seeing rules broken so openly."
"Alan!" Alma called, worry in her voice.
"Sorry, I've got to get to my next class. Thank you again."
Feeling painfully self-conscious, I hurried toward the exit, fully aware of the eyes burning into my back—everyone who had witnessed that little "family reunion."
"Your brother's a complete beast," Robert muttered as we made our way to the stadium.
"Yeah," I huffed. "Definitely his father's son."
"You know," another boy from our class said—the one I hadn't even spoken to before, "I think I get you now. Turns out aristocrats don't have much freedom either."
I actually stopped for a second.
He'd nailed it.
"Yeah," I said with a faint, bitter smile. "Right now, I feel a lot freer here than I ever did in the Holivan mansion."
"Hard to believe," Alma laughed. "I'd gladly trade all this for a not-so-free but very rich life."