The banquet followed a plated meal format, with each individual served a dish in front of them.
Litte stared at the plate before her, completely at a loss.
She didn’t know what to do.
(TL Note: The author uses 她 (she/her) instead of 他 (he/him) here. I’m assuming the author will refer to Litte as she/her whenever the story shifts into her perspective and otherwise he/him until Litte’s gender reveal.)
She had used knives and forks back in the countryside, but this was the first time she had ever used silver ones.
Porcelain plates were something she had only seen once before, when her adoptive parents had taken her to a restaurant for her tenth birthday. Even then, they were nowhere near as exquisite as the ones here, which even featured intricate patterns.
These plates, crafted to the standards of fine art, were actually being used to serve food...
As for the food itself, aside from recognizing one dish as bread, Litte had no idea what the other dishes were.
“Everyone, today is the first day my son Litte has returned to the family and reunited with me,” Lucius said as he raised his wine glass, addressing the nobles seated at the table. “On this joyous occasion, let us toast to Litte!”
With these words, the nobles below also raised their glasses.
Seeing this, Orson gestured to Litte to raise his own glass. Mimicking Orson’s actions, Litte awkwardly lifted his wine glass.
Lucius led the toast by downing his entire drink, and the nobles followed suit, draining their glasses in unison.
Litte imitated Orson’s movements, but after forcing down the bitter wine with a furrowed brow, he began to choke.
Before this, Litte had never had alcohol. After this, it was unlikely he would ever develop a taste for it.
“Cough, cough...” He coughed uncontrollably.
His coughing immediately drew the attention of everyone present.
The nobles around the table turned their gazes toward Litte, their expressions subtly tinged with disdain.
When they first saw Litte in ceremonial attire, they had to admit he looked far more presentable compared to when he had just entered the family home.
For a moment, they thought this ugly duckling might be on the verge of transforming into a swan.
But a country bumpkin would always remain a country bumpkin. No matter if he was the Duke’s son, after living in the countryside for so many years, he couldn’t shed those faint traces of his commoner habits, which made him an eyesore to these nobles.
He couldn’t even drink wine properly—how could he call himself a noble?
Still, out of respect for Lucius, none of them dared to show their disdain openly.
Lucius’s expression remained neutral, while Mary’s brows furrowed deeply.
From the very start of the banquet, it seemed she had not been in a good mood.
And it was no wonder—her child had just made a fool of himself in front of everyone. For Mary, a woman who cared deeply about appearances, this was simply unacceptable.
What’s more, Mary was not Litte’s biological mother. The Duke’s first wife had died in childbirth after giving birth to Litte, and Mary had become Lucius’s second wife five years ago.
She was the stepmother to both Orson and Litte.
In the original novel, Orson’s relationship with Litte had rapidly deteriorated, partly because Mary had sown discord between them.
After all, among the four core members of the family, only Litte and Lucius were connected by blood.
Mary was not Litte’s biological mother, and Orson was not Lucius’s biological son.
Naturally, the two of them formed a small alliance, with Mary devising schemes and Orson carrying them out.
Ultimately, after Orson was expelled from the family, Mary, left without her tool, had to plot on her own to get rid of Litte...
After that, Orson couldn’t remember the rest of the book’s content.
On the other side, as Litte coughed, she silently berated herself.
Why am I so useless? I’ve already resolved to live a good life in this new home, yet I keep embarrassing myself again and again...
She thought about the looks Lucius and Mary had given her.
Lucius’s gaze was filled with helplessness, while Mary’s was cold and indifferent.
Is that what parental affection is supposed to look like...?
But it’s only natural. A countryside bumpkin like me—how could I possibly gain the approval of these nobles...
Even Brother Orson must be disgusted with me by now. I even dirtied his clothes...
Tears began to roll down from the corners of Litte’s eyes as these thoughts filled her mind.
At that moment, Orson picked up a napkin, tucked one corner of it into Litte’s collar, then unfolded it and laid it across Litte’s chest.
“This way, you don’t have to worry about getting dirty.” Orson smiled and then cut the steak on his plate into small pieces. He speared one with his fork and placed it in front of Litte.
“Here, eat.”
Lucius, watching Orson take such good care of Litte, nodded in approval. Mary’s expression also softened somewhat.
As long as Litte didn’t cause any more trouble, that would be enough.
The other nobles, seeing Orson’s actions, felt ashamed and lowered their heads.
No wonder Orson was the most highly praised young man in the Empire.
To be so kind and considerate toward a brother he had only just met after so many years apart—this level of magnanimity was beyond what anyone else could achieve.
Even Orson, a duke’s son, wasn’t looking down on Litte. What right did they, as small-time nobles, have to do so?
Thanks to Orson’s gesture, the awkward atmosphere at the banquet quickly eased.
“Young Master Litte is truly fortunate to have such a good elder brother like Young Master Orson,” a count at the dining table remarked.
“Indeed, indeed, as expected of Young Master Orson,” the other nobles echoed in agreement.
“Oh, not at all. Litte has endured so much hardship in the countryside all these years. Now that he’s back home, it’s only right for me, as his elder brother, to take care of him,” Orson said, looking at the nobles with a polite and composed smile.
“Besides, I can see that Litte is a good child. In time, I’m sure he’ll grow into a proper noble and won’t let any of you down.” Orson smiled as he spoke. “Alright, everyone, it’s a rare occasion for us all to be gathered here. Please, enjoy the wine and feast. I won’t keep you.”
At the dining table, a warm smile was often the best way to lighten the mood.
Sure enough, as soon as Orson finished speaking, the atmosphere at the banquet lightened considerably. Many nobles began chatting among themselves.
Several even raised their glasses in salute to Orson, and he responded to each one in turn.
The banquet, which had been somewhat awkward due to Litte’s earlier coughing, returned to its intended course.
Lucius, watching Orson handle the situation with such composure, felt deeply satisfied with his eldest son, despite the lack of blood relation.
In Lucius’s eyes, Orson, as the family’s eldest son, was not only extraordinarily gifted but also adept at interpersonal relationships, making him incredibly likable.
It seemed like the most logical decision to have Orson inherit the family.
However, the deeply ingrained belief in the importance of bloodlines was something Lucius couldn’t entirely shake off.
That was why he had never formally declared Orson as his heir.
He wanted to see if Litte could grow into someone capable of leading the family.
If Litte were ultimately deemed unfit to take on the responsibility of inheritance, only then would he choose to name Orson as his successor.
Otherwise, even if Orson was unwilling, he would still have to persuade him to do his best to support Litte.
With this in mind, he looked at Litte, who sat beside Orson, silently eating without saying a word.
Beside him was Orson, engaging with the nobles and interacting with them effortlessly.
Lucius didn’t know why Orson was treating Litte so unusually well, but he didn’t see it as a bad thing. On the contrary, the closer the two became, the more willing Orson might be to support Litte if the latter became the family’s heir.
Your brother has taken on many burdens for you, but there are some paths you must walk on your own, Litte.
Lucius silently looked at Litte, thinking this to himself.