The banquet was in full swing, yet a piercing gaze remained fixed on Litte, who was quietly eating.
This gaze came from Count Karls, who had been put in his place by Orson earlier. Now, his attention was locked on Litte.
While the other guests exchanged drinks and pleasantries, Orson noticed Count Karls looking in his direction but saying nothing. Orson felt a flicker of doubt.
What is he up to?
Moments later, Count Karls stood up and raised his glass toward Orson.
“Young Master Orson, I toast to you.” With these words, he drained his glass in one go.
Before Orson could respond, Count Karls continued, “Everyone knows that the Stranick family has built its legacy on martial prowess. Young Master Orson, being the most distinguished and renowned youth in the Empire, must have surely inherited Duke Lucius’s strength and valor.”
The words of Count Karls, now standing, drew the attention of everyone at the banquet, including Litte, who had been quietly lowering his head. Litte’s hands froze mid-motion.
“Today, on the occasion of Young Master Litte’s return, I find myself quite curious…” Count Karls said as he turned his sharp gaze toward Litte.
“Young Master Litte, which of Duke Lucius’s excellent traits have you inherited?”
The room fell into a heavy silence at these words.
The other nobles glanced curiously between Litte and Lucius.
Sitting at the head of the table, Lucius and Mary both looked slightly exasperated.
Mary, in particular, shot a displeased glare at Count Karls but refrained from making a scene due to the setting.
Litte, meanwhile, kept his head down and remained silent.
Next to him, Orson’s expression shifted into one of surprise.
What does this Count Karls think he’s doing?
Orson had gone to great lengths to steer the conversation away from Litte, ensuring that Litte’s first day with the family went as smoothly as possible. He wanted to avoid hurting Litte’s self-esteem and, above all, prevent him from going down a dark path.
And now this guy wants to drag the focus back onto Litte?
Are you fucking kidding me?
Thinking this, Orson couldn’t help but prepare to stand up.
“Young Master Orson,” Count Karls immediately addressed him, noticing his movement. “I know that Young Master Litte has only just returned to the family and that you care deeply for your younger brother. However, excessive doting will not help a child grow; it will only cause them to stagnate.”
“Could it be, Young Master Orson, that the reason you are so ‘protective’ of Young Master Litte is precisely because of this?” After finishing, Count Karls deliberately put on a look of feigned surprise.
“Oh my, I apologize. I seem to have spoken a little too much. Surely, Young Master Orson wouldn’t mind such a well-intentioned piece of advice, would you?”
Watching Count Karls flaunt his petty behavior, Orson’s brows furrowed deeply.
He wanted nothing more than to throw this guy out immediately, but there were two issues.
First, Count Karls was a guest invited by his father, Lucius. It wouldn’t look good to insult his father’s hospitality.
Second, Count Karls might be doing this on purpose. After all, Lucius was still present—he was the true head of the Stranick family.
If Orson lost his temper with Count Karls in front of everyone, what would people think of him?
At best, they’d say he was impudent and spoiled by his father’s favor.
At worst, they might suspect that Orson, nervous about Litte’s arrival, was already scheming to secure his position as heir to the family’s title.
Should such rumors spread, the consequences could be disastrous.
At a time like this, it was better to let Lucius handle the situation.
Orson turned his gaze toward Lucius, who seemed to be deep in thought.
After a moment, Lucius raised his head and looked at Count Karls.
“Count Karls, if I recall correctly, your family made its fortune through trade in its early days, didn’t it?”
“That’s correct,” Count Karls nodded, somewhat confused by the sudden question. He couldn’t discern Lucius’s intentions.
“In that case, you must have inherited your elders’ business acumen and be quite skilled in commerce, correct?” Lucius raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a faint edge. “Then why, in the financial report you submitted to me last month, did trade activities in your territory show a decline?”
“This…” Count Karls grew visibly flustered upon hearing Lucius’s pointed words.
“Duke Lucius, please allow me to explain. There were many reasons that led to this result—”
“There’s no need to explain.” Lucius interrupted him sharply. “By your own logic, shouldn’t you be highly skilled in commerce?”
The atmosphere at the banquet grew tense as the exchange between Lucius and Count Karls became increasingly confrontational. Other nobles quickly chimed in, attempting to defuse the situation.
“Duke Lucius, Count Karls only meant well.”
“Indeed, indeed, Young Master Litte is, after all, your son and is destined to inherit your position one day.”
“Count Karls does have a point. Young Master Litte has spent so much time in the countryside, falling behind in education. If you spoil him too much, it might ruin him.”
Hearing the chatter from the nobles, Orson clenched his fists tightly in anger.
So, you all just love stirring up trouble, huh?
On Litte’s very first day with the family, you want to focus on the inheritance issue?
You’re practically broadcasting to everyone that Duke Lucius has two sons vying for the family title, aren’t you?
Orson glanced at Litte, who sat beside him with his head lowered, motionless.
Damn it. Don’t tell me Litte is starting to believe these fools, thinking all my previous kindness was just an act.
Just as Orson was about to lean over and explain himself to Litte, Lucius stood up abruptly.
“Everyone, I invited you here today because you are my vassals and friends.”
“This family banquet was meant to celebrate the return of my long-lost son, Litte, to his home.” Lucius spoke as he turned his gaze to Count Karls and the other nobles who had joined in. “If you’re dissatisfied with the food or wine, you’re welcome to leave. I won’t mind.”
“But if you continue to bring up irrelevant matters, don’t blame me for showing you the door!”
“As for Litte’s education, there’s no need for you to concern yourselves. I will personally arrange for the best tutors to ensure that he grows into a capable contender for the title of Duke.”
With that, Lucius sat back down heavily.
At that moment, his demeanor shifted from that of a kind lord to a commanding and authoritative soldier.
With Lucius’s declaration, the other nobles had no choice but to fall silent.
“Alright, alright, today is a joyous occasion. Let’s not turn it into something unpleasant.” At this moment, Mary, seated beside Lucius, also stepped in to ease the atmosphere.
Litte sat in the chair, not understanding why, even though she had done nothing, the conversation still revolved around her.
As expected, they don’t like me, do they?
Thinking this, his spirits sank lower.
The issue of inheritance didn’t mean much to Litte. Having only just joined the family, he was unfamiliar with the intricacies of noble life.
He didn’t even fully grasp the significance of his father’s title as a Duke.
“Don’t overthink it,” Orson said softly near his ear. “Just focus on eating.”
“Mm, thank you, Brother Orson.” Litte nodded.
This was the first thing he had said since sitting at the table.