The next couple chapters will have a timeskip.

Ever since that humiliating day, many things have happened.

For one, I haven't seen that woman who saved me. I go to town Every other day, but no matter where I go I can't find her.

Secondly, I've been moved up to year four. If you're wondering why, you can thank Mr. Faulkner.

I had fallen asleep in his class after spending the whole night reading... high quality material. Mr. Faulkner, as any teacher would, got mad and gave me a quiz entirely composed of stuff taught in fifth year.

Imagine his surprise when I got a perfect score.

As a result, he reuested I be moved up to fourth year. The only reason I wasn't moved to fifth year is because my etiquette was "abysmal". If you ask me, I think Mr. Faulkner wanted to get rid of me more than anything.

The bad thing about being moved up a grade is that the etiquette lessons have gotten harder even with Belle helping me at home. If it weren't for Belle, I'd be the laughingstock of the class.

My new teacher is Mr. Whit. He's much more pleasant than old crabby Mr. Faulkner. Since I already knew all the fourth year content, he gave me higher level stuff to do and I'm doing sixth year work. I'm pretending to have a bit of trouble with this so I'm not labeled as a renowned genius.

The most people will think is that my father pushed me to study extra hard to live up to the Duke's name. Seriously, it's a real thing here.

Another thing I've learned is that math and science is way easier than where I lived before. The hardest level math here is basic algebra and geometry. There's no calculus, trigonometry, or advanced algebra here!

The kids in this class are nicer to me too. I don't know if it's because they know I'm smart or they have better manners, but I like it!

Not only that, but a couple of them have even asked me to help them with their work! In return, they helped me out in Ms. Gardner's class.

Kids still pick on me, but school isn't a living hell now.

"Young master, Duke Howell wishes to see you in his office." Belle picked up the empty plate and glass.

"Ok," I heaved a big sigh. What could that old man want now?

I walked through numerous halls and knocked on the door of his office.

"Come in," I walked in to see father on one of the couched. I plopped down on the opposing couch.

"What do you want?"

Father cleared his throat, "I've heard from the academy that you've been excelling in your work. I've decided you're ready to have your debutante."

"Wait, what? Isn't that supposed to be when kids are ten?"

"Well, yes. But you've shown you're smarter and more mature than others your age." The original Randall never had a debutante though? Why's he being so nice all of a sudden? Does he not remember when I told him to go shove a dick in his mouth?

"I don't want my debutante yet, it's too early. At least wait until I'm in fifth year."

"But why? Any kid would want the honor of having it earlier than everyone else." Father looked confused.

"Well, if you had payed attention, you would know I hate standing out." I stood up, "if that's all I'm going."

I walked to the door. Right before I shut it behind me, I said one more thing.

"Oh, and don't think pretending to care now will get me to think I can expect anything from you." The door closed with a low thud. I let out a shaky sigh of relief and ran back to my room.

~

"Today we'll be focusing on multiplying decimals." Mr. Whit tapped a stack of papers, "I will pass these out and I expect this to be done by tomorrow." As he handed everything out, Belle handed me a freshly sharpened pencil.

Mr. Whit handed me the packet along with an extra packet of probability and simplifying problems meant for sixth years.

Each packet had fifty questions, but they were all easy so I wasn't stressed about it. I drilled through the questions and within two hours I was done. Wow, I feel kinda smart right now. I've never excelled in school, but put me back a few years and all of a sudden I'm a math genius!

"Done already? You never fail to surprise me." Mr. Whit remarked when I gave the papers to them at the beginning of lunch. I purposely waited until everyone had filed out of the classroom.

"Bye, Mr. Whit!" I followed Belle out to our usual spot. Her sandwiches were amazing!

"So this is where you've been hiding, rat." A few older kids surrounded me.

"What's this? Garbage?" A girl stomped on the homemade scones Belle made this morning. I felt my temper flare up. How dare they disrespect Belle like that?

"How about you taste it yourself, bitch?" I shoved a fistful of the ruined scones in her mouth. She gagged and ran away, scone crumbs getting into her dress.

"How dare you do that to Rose?!" A guy slammed a foot into my back. Ow! There better not be a bruise on my back after this?

"Well how dare you disrespect Belle like that?!" The kids laughed.

"See? He's clearly a commoner! No noble would stoop so low as to defend a mere servant like that!"

"Yeah, servants are meant for one thing. To serve their masters! Any servant incapable of that would be more helpful dead," the boy sneered. The kids laughed again.

The boy fell back, clutching a now broken nose.

"You take that back you good for nothing ass!" I leaped onto him, ignoring the fact he was bigger than me and clawed at him. He pushed me off.

"You crazy shit!" He stood up, ready to hit me. I kneed him in the groin and he fell. I stomped on his groin again for good measure. The other girls had alrreready run off and the two other boys advanced on me. Damn! I'm fine one-on-one, but I can't fight off two!

~

"Young master, please forgive this incompetent servant!" Belle kneeled in front of me. I held a cold compress to my side with a wince.

"What are you talking about? You're the best!" I gave her a wide grin.

"But I allowed you to get injured." Belle didn't move from her position.

"You don't have to allow me to do anything. I knew what I was getting into and I'd do it again!" I frowned, "those guys..." I felt myself tear up a little bit.

"What's wrong, young master? Are you hurt somewhere else?" Belle fretted over me.

"People are people. Not objects," I let a sob escape, "I hate it. Just because they were lucky to be born with powerful parents they think they can treat others like objects!" I gave Belle a hug.

"Young master..." I felt Belle's arms slowly wrap around me, "I'm sorry you had to deal with such things. You're not alone anymore."

"Thanks, Belle," I sniffled. "Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"Don't put your life in danger for me. Please."

"...I cannot promise you that, young master."

"B-But-"

"Not because I'm your servant, but because I care for you as a mother would for her son." Belle patted my head. "Please do not worry, young master. I will be here to take care of you."