Chapter 3

Before Jordan left, he wore a downright sinister smile as he hissed, "I paid a hefty price for this gift, Julian. You'd better cherish it."

At first, I didn't get what he meant. It wasn't until Madam Cavill sat in the pavilion drinking tea in the shade while she made me stand under the hot sun, balancing a vase on my head, that it finally clicked.

Oh. So this was what Jordan had in store for me.

But I'd trained in martial arts since I was a child. This level of "punishment" was no more than a light scratch. If Jordan wanted to see me make a fool of myself, he was dreaming.

I stood there as steady as a rock all day and even took the initiative to balance two more vases.

Madam Cavill was furious. She immediately changed tactics and made me practice walking instead. Every time I took a step, she jabbed me hard with a needle, the pain sharp enough to make me suck in a breath.

Her eyes were full of disdain. "Mr. Julian, it's not that easy to learn Javilon's etiquette and rules. If you can't handle it, you'd better hurry back to your bandit—"

Her words cut off mid-sentence because I plucked the needle right out of her hand. I pinched my fingers together just a little, and the three-inch needle snapped into two.

My knuckles cracked as I clenched my fist. I lowered my voice and warned her, "I used to put down ten old hags like you before lunch. Go ahead and try me."

Madam Cavill froze, then plastered on a fawning smile. "It's my fault for failing to teach you properly."

After that, she didn't dare make things difficult for me anymore and actually started teaching me by the book. I improved at lightning speed. In just a few days, I started looking and acting like a refined heir.

Madam Cavill kept singing my praises in front of my parents, going on and on about how clever and talented I was. They were delighted, but Jordan had to dig his nails into his palms to keep his jealousy in check.

The next day was the banquet. First thing in the morning, Jordan sent me two outfits. One was this dull, washed-out color an old man might wear, and the other was so bright it practically screamed for attention.

Did he really think that growing up in a bandit stronghold meant I had no sense of style?

I didn't even give them a second look. I put on the outfit I'd already picked out and headed to the banquet. When he saw me and realized his plan had been ruined again, the hatred in his eyes deepened.

He suddenly thought of something and covered his mouth, pretending to be all secretive as he whispered to the guests around him, "You guys don't know this, but Julian grew up in a bandit stronghold. He's the chief there and knows martial arts. Impressive, isn't he?"

The moment he said that, everyone around perked up. Those spoiled heirs looked me up and down with mocking interest.

One of them asked, "What's it like being a bandit, Mr. Julian? Come on, tell us about it."

They were obviously waiting to see me make a fool of myself, but I still answered proudly, "We robbed corrupt officials, killed tyrants, and took from the rich to help the poor."

The vice minister of revenue's son snorted. "So you basically looted and killed, right? I heard there are no women in those bandit dens. If you guys have… needs, how do you deal with them? Or do you swing the other way? Why don't you tell us how different it is to be with a man instead of a woman?"

He kept going, getting more and more carried away.

My face was blank as I grabbed my teacup and splashed the tea right in his face. He screamed in response.

Jordan had been dying for me to cause trouble, so he jumped in immediately, practically buzzing with excitement. "Julian, how can you mess around on such an important day? Someone, grab him!"

The servants all rushed at me. My blood was already boiling with anger, so I kicked anyone who came near aside. They flew into the tables, spilling food and drinks all over the floor in a complete mess.

The guests screamed and scattered in all directions; the scene turned into pure chaos.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Father hurried over with a princess in tow. His face was like thunder as he took in the sight before him.

I'd swung a punch at Jordan amid the chaos. He clutched his bruised cheek and ran to Father, looking upset. "Father, I just wanted Julian to talk a bit about what life was like in the bandit stronghold, and he started attacking people out of nowhere."

The heir I'd doused with tea chimed in right on cue. "What else would you expect from someone raised by bandits? He doesn't hold a candle to Jordan!"