𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 || 𝑨 𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

05. 𝑴𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆

CHAPTER 5:
Mystery Of Love

.˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

ETON COLLEGE STOOD tall and formidable, its towers rising against the blue skies like sturdy sentinels standing guard over the future of the elite.

Within its hallowed halls echoed voices of future lords and gentlemen, a mix of privilege and ambition.

Among these boys was Benjamin Featherington.

His mind, sharp and quick, often left him at the top of his class, much to the envy and admiration of his peers.

Yet, beneath the surface of his academic success lay an understanding of the world that was uniquely his own.

His best friend, Mathew, sat beside him, hunched in his seat and fidgeting with the edges of his parchment, where words struggled to form coherent sentences.

Having been graced with a less fortunate upbringing marked by an abusive father, Mathew relied heavily on the benevolence of the Featherington family to obtain his education.

Eton was not merely an institution for him; it was his escape, his fleeting chance at being something more than what he had known at home.

During a particularly tedious mathematics lesson, Mathew leaned closer to Benjamin, his whisper barely audible above the scratching of quills.

"Ben," he said, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "I'll pay you to do my homework. Just this once!"

Benjamin glanced up from his neatly organized notebook, filled with elegant equations and careful annotations.

"Mathew, you need to learn this. Ask the Professor for extra help. I can't just do it for you," he replied, returning to his work.

Mathew pouted, his lower lip jutting out in a way that reminded Benjamin of a sulking child. "Come on! I'll give you a penny! Or... or I can get you my mother's famous ginger biscuits!"

The boy's attempts to bargain were filled with desperation, and Benjamin couldn't help but chuckle. "Ginger biscuits won't earn you grace in math. You need to figure it out for yourself. I'm telling you, it's the only way you'll pass."

Before Mathew could fashion an argument that might sway Benjamin's moral compass, their Professors' sharp voice cut through the boys' whispering. "Mr Fitzroy! Care to entertain the class with your musings?"

A hush fell over the room, students adjusting in their seats, and all eyes turned towards Mathew, who squirmed like a fish caught in a net.

"N-no, sir," he stammered, refusing to make eye contact, praying for the moment to end.

"Then perhaps you would like to solve this equation on the board?" He asked, his tone cool and commanding.

Mathew's face blanched as he stared at the chalkboard, the numbers swimming ominously before his eyes. "I-I..." He opened his mouth to speak but found no words.

Feeling the weight of his friend's humiliation, Benjamin rose to his feet. "Mathew, it's... it's just a simple equation!" he called out, taking strides towards the board. He hastily scribbled the answer before turning to Mathew with a look that signaled his buddy to escape the teacher's wrath.

The Professors narrowed his eyes at the two boys. "Are you now trying to answer for your friend, Benjamin? Think you can shield him from accountability?"

Before Benjamin could utter an apology, Mathew's wrist snapped back sharply against The Professors' ruler, his temper flaring like an uncontained fire.