The Mystery of the Young Master

The annoyed guy on the bed sat up and with quick movements tidied his tangled hair. A sparkling comb fluttered in his hands like a dangerous weapon.

Tying the top of his hair into a bundle, he looked calmly and confidently into Liam's eyes. Normally his cold stare of his made people tremble. Girls immediately threw their hearts at his feet, and men preferred to treat him with apprehension.

But Liam also had a straight look in his eyes. His uncomplicated appearance, somewhat sloppy, did not impress Cal at all. Liam didn't look like a rich, spoiled daddy's boy.

If Cal hadn't known he was the heir to Glinier, he wouldn't have guessed it. Liam himself stared at him for a few moments before he bowed dryly and left the room before the young man could make another move.

Cal remained sitting on the bed in embarrassment, not knowing whether he had won or lost.

In the days that followed, Liam came frequently to see the castle's new occupant. He brought him food and medicine, fulfilled his requests to buy something at the market, or simply entertained him by chatting about the art of swordsmanship. But these meetings were not frequent.

Liam would disappear for days and then return with dark circles under his eyes. Feeling insecure, Cal didn't know which way to take this acquaintance and behaved with restraint.

Liam went into the back room of the second floor as usual, but Cal was gone. A crumpled blanket was lying in the middle of the bed, a sheet pulled down, pillows piled in a heap.

Looking around the empty room, Liam dumped everything on the floor and methodically made the bed, starting with the sheet. After standing for a while and making sure everything was perfect, he left. He was in a hurry to get to class.

The stern teacher would hit his palms painfully with a wooden stick if you were even a moment late.

Making his way through the crowd in the marketplace, Liam heard a familiar voice. He suddenly looked up and saw Cal arguing with a salesman. Interested, Liam changed course and moved closer.

Cal wanted to buy a travel bag, but he didn't have enough money. The salesman stood his ground, and there was no end in sight to this confrontation. Liam pulled out the missing coins and handed them to the salesman.

He recognized the young Mr. Glinier and flashed a fake smile. Cal snatched the traveling bag from his hands and turned to leave. Liam didn't stop him, preferring not to meddle in other people's affairs. Still had a hand in Cal's plans, though.

As expected, Liam was too late. With his palms outstretched obediently, he waited for his punishment. His teacher measured out ten strokes and ordered him to sit back down. His palms were still on fire, and the teacher had already demanded that he rewrite several pages from his textbook.

He had forgotten all about Cal and began to work hard to finish the task. After the lesson, his father's helper found him.

"Young master, hurry home. Your father is waiting."

There were guards in the courtyard of the palace and with them the Head.

"What's wrong, Father?"

"There's no time, you'll figure it out on the way."

Jumping on horses, they rode out of the city.

A group of riders rushed along the dusty road and soon the convoy appeared in the distance. The men looked bleak: threadbare clothes, hunted horses, hungry eyes. They turned out to be a band of rebels.

They entered the town and began looting everyone they saw, passing through the town like a hurricane, they stole some children and women and stole a lot of money and valuable things. The battle was short.

The rebels didn't stand a chance. Liam fought as well as the grown men, regardless of his flogged hands. Disarming the bandits proved easy.

The head separated the prisoners and found Cal among them! Even Liam was surprised, but he also thought things were not quite as they looked. The traveling bag that Cal had haggled over was full of stuff.

So Liam concluded that Cal was about to leave town and might have been caught by the bandits... For some reason, Liam remembered Cal's bed being left behind in a hurry...

He escorted the men back to town, including the fugitive, and again said nothing. Upon his arrival, the Head decided to attend to Cal's matter.

"This young man will now live in our family. He will go to school, and the Glynier family gives him their protection."

Having said this, Mr. Glynier softened, his eyes warmed, and he put his hand on Cal's shoulder.

"You must not run away again, let this place be your home. We are glad to have you with us."

The guest of honor froze in amazement with round eyes, not expecting to hear something like that from the Head of the City. Especially, since he had made his escape the day before. Liam tilted his head in agreement with his father and bit his lip.

The new student was incredibly interesting to everyone around him, including the young female teachers. Everyone wanted to get to know each other, and Cal glanced victoriously at the heir to Glinier sitting demurely on the sidelines.

But Liam assumed that would be the case. He saw the competitive excitement in Cal's eyes and guessed vaguely that he'd been fighting his whole life for his place in the sun. Liam wanted to be angry, wanted to resent his father, but he couldn't.

He just had to try harder.

Liam's graduating class was taught by the children of wealthy and influential families. They chose the same people to be their friends.

But Liam wasn't particularly keen on friendship, feeling uncomfortable in a crowd.

Liam didn't have outstanding looks, though he was cute enough as a kid. He was not given love letters, he was not competed with, insulted, or suspected of mischief.

He was an extremely boring honors student, hard-working and moody as an old man. Looking at the crowd around Cal, Liam turned indifferently toward the window and put his palm under his cheek.

The class was over and everyone hurried to the river, including Cal and his new friends. Liam carefully gathered his things and walked in the opposite direction. When Cal returned at sunset, out of breath, after the swim, he found Liam on the practice field.

The instructor was giving him commands, and the young man was diligently practicing his exercises. Cal was hanging on the stone fence and watching the practice.

Liam noticed his sunburned face, too, and knew at once where he'd spent half the day.

With a shrug of his shoulders, as if he didn't care, he continued studying. In the time that followed, Cal spent more and more time with the elite of the class, ignoring Liam. But the young man was ready for that. He knew from the beginning that they wouldn't become friends.

No one would voluntarily want to be the mate of such a moody man. Liam had a low opinion of himself. He'd learned since he was a kid that it was pretty hard for people to like him. It used to be even worse.

He could say something hurtful to people right to their faces without realizing it wasn't tactful. Mom spent a lot of time teaching him to understand the nuances and subtleties of communication ethics. He was diligent as usual and mastered the science, but still preferred to shun people.

Every day after school he practiced until he was exhausted to meet his father's expectations, and then, after washing up, he would run to his studio and could paint until morning.

But only two people knew about it: him and his mother. A white cat lived in the studio and greeted his master every evening. He was free to leave the room, all he had to do was jump from the window sill onto a thick spreading tree.

But the cat remained faithful to his master and patiently waited for him, sprawled out on tubes of paint. This strange cat chose the most uncomfortable places to sleep. Sometimes Liam caught him with his head hanging down and drooling...

Liam sometimes drew his cat. This lazy animal didn't move for hours, so you couldn't find a better model. That evening, as usual, Liam went to see if the coat on his latest work had dried.

When he entered the room, he didn't find Fluffy. This was strange. Liam looked out the window, leaned over the window sill, and looked down «no one.

Then he looked up and suddenly heard a wild «meow» from the top of the tree. Liam was dumbfounded. Why on earth had his lazy cat come to the top of the tree? The feline nonsense began to howl as loud as he could when he saw his master.

Liam climbed up the tree from the windowsill, gripping the strongest twigs with his hands. Gradually the trunk grew thinner and bent sneakily under his weight.

The height plus the unstable position in space made Liam sweat and grasp the tree with his hands harder. It was at this awkward moment in his ridiculous life that the young man was spotted by Cal from his window.

At first, he didn't realize what was going on, but then he saw a white cat at the top, and a little lower, a crazy man about to fall. Cal clutched at the window sill so that his fingers turned white.

But there was nothing he could do but stand there and watch. At that moment, Liam reached for the cat's disheveled fur. He grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and pulled it up against him, taking a hundred stabbing blows, but bearing them firmly, he began to climb down.

Cal stared at Liam until he jumped through the window of the room, then backed away from the window and slid down the wall.

Liam did the same. Cradling the poor furry creature in his arms, he slid down the wall and, stretching out his trembling legs, muttered: «he saw us, Fluffy, what a shame...».

Liam noticed Cal, or rather he was already afraid he'd look out his window and catch Liam climbing trees.

As the saying goes, whatever you're afraid of happens...

The next day Liam was practicing as usual, and Cal climbed a tree to sneak into the very room where Liam was hiding with the cat. The white coat, curled up in a bob, slept on a stack of paper.

«Perfect disguise,» thought Cal. He peered around the corner. The cat lifted its head lazily and, stretching, changed its pose. The young man hadn't expected to see such a thing.

Climbing into someone else's room, Cal was ready to ferret out dirty secrets, to find some stain on the Glinier heir's reputation, but he hadn't expected to learn such a shocking secret.

Dust and sweat-stained guy practiced on the field and then went to paint?

Cal didn't know how to react to this at all. Accustomed to suspect rather than trust, he was confused. How could he despise Liam, or rather for what?

As he hurriedly left someone else's sanctuary, he shook off his embarrassment and decided that Liam was bound to get caught up in some future mischief.

A few days later, Liam overslept for class and took thirty punches to the palms of his hands in front of everyone. Cal watched in bewilderment as the punishment was administered, waiting for the guards to break into the classroom and twist the insolent teacher.

But after giving the student his due punishment, the teacher continued the lesson as if nothing had happened, and Liam took his seat. Cal's heart was still boiling with indignation, but Liam was unfazed.

The young man was calmly completing his class assignment and was as calm as if he'd been raking it in so regularly. Only a slight flicker of blush betrayed his feelings.

Liam was rarely ashamed or rather didn't care what his classmates thought of him. But Cal had only just come into his life, and the young man had already managed to screw up in front of him.

He hadn't yet forgotten the story about the cat and the tree, how he'd gotten a slap on the wrist in front of everyone for being late. «Such a loser!» Liam scolded himself.

He didn't have a close friend to tell about his experiences.

The lesson ended and everyone surrounded Cal.

«It's amazing how he makes people like him,» Liam thought and left the school.