“It seems Orson doesn’t mind Litte,” Lucius remarked, seeing the two brothers so close and harmonious, and let out a sigh of relief. “Orson really is a good child.”
“Yes,” Mary nodded in agreent. Though she was Lucius’s second wife after the death of the Duke’s first wife, Diana, and neither Orson nor Litte were her biological children, if she had to choose between the two, she would undoubtedly pick Orson.
“Having Orson is already a blessing for the Stranick family,” Mary said with a smile. “As for Litte, let’s raise him properly first and strip away his rustic deanor before making any judgnts.”
“Indeed,” Lucius nodded, then turned to address the nobles gathered behind him. “Thank you all for your trouble. Please, head into the hall and take a rest.”
“Litte’s return is a grand occasion; standing outside for a bit is no trouble at all,” one of the nobles quickly replied with a polite laugh.
—
Elsewhere, Litte, who had been carried in a princess carry, buried his face in Orson’s chest.
His small, delicate nose subtly sniffed the scent coming from Orson’s body.
The fragrance was quite pleasant, and he couldn’t help but take in a little more of it.
But then, as if realizing how improper this was, he quickly covered his face with his hands.
What am I doing? I just joined the family, and I’m already doing sothing like this to my elder brother. This is way too rude!
At that mont, Orson, focused on looking ahead, didn’t notice Litte’s small movents in his arms.
To be honest, this little brother of mine is really light.
Sigh, after living in the countryside for so long, look how thin and frail he’s beco.
No wonder, in the original novel, he was so easily bullied.
From his deanor to his physique, there wasn’t a single trait that resembled a noble. Yet he was being treated as one—how could others not feel envious or jealous?
Suddenly, Orson seed to hear Litte mumbling sothing under his breath and imdiately looked down at him.
“What’s wrong, Litte? Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”
Seeing Litte’s slightly flushed cheeks, Orson assud he might be sick.
“No, not at all...” Litte replied softly, then asked hesitantly, “O-Orson... brother, if you carry like this, your clothes... they’ll get dirty. I... don’t sll good either...”
Orson looked at Litte in surprise before breaking into a gentle smile. He reached out to ruffle Litte’s hair.
“If my clothes get dirty, I’ll just change into another set. Besides, Litte, you’re not dirty at all.”
Truth be told, with his current appearance, Litte really did evoke a protective instinct in others. Orson couldn’t imagine how the original version of himself in the novel had the heart to harm such an adorable younger brother.
He carried Litte into his own room.
“Your room is still being tidied up. Since you need to change clothes anyway, let’s use mine for now.” Orson said this as he placed Litte on his bed and then walked to the wardrobe to search for so of his older clothes.
Orson wasn’t particularly tall—about 1.8 ters—but compared to Litte, who was barely 1.6 ters, the height difference was striking.
Litte, anwhile, was utterly stunned by the room’s decor the mont he stepped inside.
It was filled with ornants he had never seen during his ti in the countryside.
The bed, in particular, was sothing he couldn’t believe was ant for sleeping the mont his body touched it.
It’s so soft!
And the entire room seed to reflect Orson’s tastes. From the mont he entered, there was a faint and elegant fragrance, seemingly from a type of flower, though Litte didn’t recognize it.
A few minutes later, Orson found a set of clothes he had worn three years ago. He held them up to Litte and decided they would suffice.
“Alright, I’ve picked out the clothes. Now let’s get you a bath.”
“Huh? A... a bath?” Upon hearing this, Litte’s expression instantly turned to one of panic.
“Of course. Your hair is a bit ssy, after all.” Orson pointed toward the room’s adjoining bathroom. “You can use my bathroom. I’ll even teach you how to use everything in there.”
Without waiting for Litte’s response, Orson grabbed his wrist and led the wide-eyed boy into the bathroom.
“Litte, watch carefully. This is a magically powered showerhead. It’s driven by magic stones, so even if you don’t know magic, you can use it. Just press this button, and hot water will co out.”
“And this knob here adjusts the temperature. Here, try it out.” As he spoke, Orson took Litte’s hand and guided it toward the button.
Water suddenly sprayed out from the showerhead mounted on the wall, its icy chill soaking Litte’s hair and wetting his head.
Naturally, Orson, standing behind Litte, wasn’t spared either, and his formal jacket beca damp as well.
Orson turned off the shower.
“Well? Isn’t that interesting?”
Litte turned around and saw Orson’s soaked clothes, and imdiately panicked. “I-I’m sorry, Brother Orson! I didn’t an to... I...”
“It’s fine,” Orson shook his head. “I was the one who told you to try it out, wasn’t I?”
Saying this, Orson cast a spell. In an instant, steam rose from his clothes, and the water that had soaked his jacket evaporated, leaving it dry once again.
“Huh?!” Litte stared in astonishnt, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
“This is magic. One day, you’ll be able to learn it too,” Orson said before heading toward the door.
“You don’t need for the rest, right?”
“Mm-hmm,” Litte nodded quickly. “Thank you, Brother Orson...”
“There’s no need to thank . We’re family now. No need to be so formal.” Orson said this as he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.
I should have left a pretty decent impression on the protagonist, Orson thought to himself.
—
anwhile, Litte sat in the bathtub, hugging his knees and burying his face in the water.
His face was beet red, and while it looked as though the steam from the bath had caused it, only he knew the real reason.
The day Albert contacted him, his adoptive parents had been overjoyed.
Their child was about to be taken to the city to live a better life, and they would receive a generous reward in return. It seed like a win-win situation.
But shortly after, they were overco with sorrow.
After all, Litte was the child they had raised for eighteen years. The idea of suddenly sending him to the city was undeniably heartbreaking.
Litte rembered how, on the day of their parting, his adoptive mother had taken out clothes she had sewn herself and handed them to him.
Even so, in the eyes of those nobles, the clothes were still considered cheap and lowly, sothing they wanted him to change out of.
At the very least, Litte wanted to wear those clothes when eting his biological parents for the first ti.
After all, once he joined this family, he probably wouldn’t be able to wear his adoptive mother’s handmade clothes ever again.
As expected, when Lucius and Mary’s initial looks of joy shifted into faint disappointnt upon seeing him, Litte knew he had ssed up.
Should I have listened to Uncle Albert and worn sothing more appropriate to please my parents?
Thinking this, Litte looked at the clothes basket beside him.
One side held his own clothes, while the other side held the outfit Orson had chosen for him.
Litte vaguely rembered the answer his adoptive father and mother gave when Albert ca to their ho at the ti.
“Is this child really yours?”
“No... We found him. He had a jade bracelet with him at birth, and we thought he was so noble’s unwanted child...”
“Yes, indeed. But he wasn’t unwanted. He was the Duke’s long-lost child.”
“I see...”
“We’re willing to give you a thousand gold coins. You can use it to buy a house in the city or open a shop, as long as you agree to return the child to the Duke.”
“...We agree,” his adoptive father had said after a long pause.
“By the way, the child is nad Litte, right? He’s quite a good boy.”
“No, actually, she is—” The adoptive father was just about to speak when the adoptive mother interrupted him.
“Sir, you truly have sharp eyes.”
That night, before he left, his adoptive mother called Litte into a room alone.
She took out a strip of white cloth and wrapped it around his chest, securing it tightly under his arms.
“Litte, when you get to the city, you must tell them you’re a boy. Only then will they treat you well,” she had said with heartfelt concern.
In the countryside, boys were favored over girls, and they assud the sa was true in the city.
To protect their daughter from suffering mistreatnt, they had co up with this solution.
—
Litte stepped out of the bathtub and approached the clothes basket. He picked up the strip of white cloth and carefully wrapped it around his chest once more.
For now, it worked, as his figure wasn’t fully developed yet. But what would happen in a few years when it was impossible to hide? What then?
His heart raced uncontrollably at the mory of Orson’s kind and gentle gaze earlier.
(Author’s Note: Regarding the fact that others are unaware of Litte’s true gender, this is a foreshadowing that will be revealed in future plot developnts.)
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