Cale Henituse, the troublesome son of Count Deruth Henituse, was known across the continent- not for brilliance or strength, but for disgrace. He made scenes wherever he went. When anger struck, he broke things, destroyed things, shattered order. To most, he was nothing more than the shame of the Henituse family. Citizens, servants, even knights feared him. His presence left them uneasy, and when he so much as lifted a chair in frustration, they trembled. It was whispered that even the count could not control his son. That was why taverns, shops, and entire streets allowed Cale's entry without protest; no one dared refuse him. The count always apologized. Always paid reparations. Always smiled bitterly and promised to make it right. "What a good father," some said. But no one asked the obvious question: was he really a good father if he never tried to stop his son from unraveling? "He always apologizes for what young master Cale does. Poor man, to have such a son!" Wasn't it easier to call the boy trash than to wonder what had turned him into this? To everyone, Cale was trash. A selfish, spoiled boy who lashed out for amusement. But oh, poor red-haired noble...is there anyone who truly sees you? ------- This is the original version of this fanfic. If you'd like to read the Spanish translation, you can find it on my profile under the title "Todo que perder, nada que ganar". The cover image was created by jamchya on X!