### Chapter 58: Sowing Discord
Tyril arrived at Donny’s dormitory, holding his notice of disciplinary action.
“I’m sorry, Young Master Donny. I ssed up again this ti...” Tyril lowered his head in sha.
“Oh, so you’re aware of that?” Donny snorted coldly, though he didn’t seem particularly angry this ti. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to succeed anyway.”
“If you had actually managed to get Orson removed from his position as Student Council President, I’d have been truly surprised.”
“Thank you, Young Master Donny.” Tyril had braced himself for a beating or at least a harsh scolding, but to his surprise, Donny seed to be in an unusually good mood today.
“Alright, I need you to... no, find soone else to deliver a letter to Junior Litte for . I’m inviting him to lunch so we can have a little chat,” Donny said, handing Tyril a sealed letter.
“Make sure it’s delivered by soone Litte doesn’t know. If he doesn’t show up, I’ll hold you responsible.”
“Understood.” Tyril nodded and left the room.
Afterward, Donny stood in front of his bedroom mirror, striking a few poses to ensure his appearance was flawless before preparing to head out.
Today wasn’t just about having lunch with Litte; there was also an important banquet waiting for him in the evening.
That was why he was in such a cheerful mood.
—
At noon, inside a high-end, elegant restaurant on the Imperial Academy’s campus, Litte sat nervously on one side of the table. Across from her sat Donny, whose nacing features clashed with his attempt at a refined deanor.
“Young Master Litte, I heard you were only recently brought back to Duke Lucius’s household?” Donny said, taking a sip of red wine with a smile.
“Mm.” Litte nodded while chewing on a piece of steak.
She had grown numb to this question. Whether it was intentional or not, nearly everyone who spoke to her brought it up. Over ti, she had gotten used to it.
“That must’ve been tough,” Donny said, his tone carrying a hint of sympathy as he sighed. “Living in the countryside for so long must have been difficult. It’s nothing like life in a duke’s household.”
His tone was far from the mocking one Tyril had used before. Instead, it seed genuinely empathetic, as if he truly felt sorry for Litte.
“It wasn’t that bad... the countryside has its own charm,” Litte replied.
“I see. Soone like , who’s always lived a noble’s life, probably couldn’t understand what it was like. But at least now, you’re the duke’s son, aren’t you?” Donny said with a smile, raising his glass toward Litte.
“A toast?”
“No, thank you.” Litte waved her hand. “I don’t drink. I’m not used to it.”
“That’s fine. You’ll get used to it eventually.” Donny, unfazed by the rejection, set his glass down with a smile.
“Um, Senior Donny, may I ask why you wanted to et this ti…”
“Oh? Young Master Litte, you’re already eager to get down to business?” Donny said, looking at Litte.
Then he continued, “To be honest, Young Master Litte, I happen to know so information about Duke Lucius’s household.”
“What do you an?” Litte asked, looking at Donny in confusion.
Seeing that Litte was interested, Donny lowered his voice to a level only the two of them could hear.
“There’s a rumor that your birth mother, the duke’s first wife, Lady Margaret, only ever had one son—you.”
Litte’s eyes widened at his words.
“Although Young Master Orson also has black hair and purple eyes, he doesn’t really resemble Duke Lucius, does he?”
“So, Young Master Orson isn’t actually Lucius’s biological son. He was rely a stand-in the duke mistakenly found to replace you.”
Donny’s tone grew more persuasive, as if he were planting seeds of doubt.
“Think about it, Young Master Litte. You were supposed to be the duke’s only son. Everything in the Antica Duchy’s future should rightfully belong to you.”
“But Orson took your place, claiming the position that should’ve been yours. Because of him, you spent eighteen years living a hard life with peasants.”
“If it weren’t for Orson, Duke Lucius would’ve likely expanded the search, eventually finding you with your adoptive parents and bringing you back to live a life of luxury.”
“If Orson hadn’t been there, you’d now be a respected young master admired by everyone, not soone who’s looked down upon and forced to rely on another’s protection.”
As Donny spoke, Litte’s expression began to waver.
“Of course, since Young Master Orson is the one protecting you, it’s natural for you to feel so dependence on him, thinking he wouldn’t harm you. I understand that.”
“But what if—just what if—Young Master Orson’s goal is to turn you into a puppet who obeys his every command? What if that’s why he’s treating you so well?”
Donny said this with a smile, stood up, and left the restaurant.
Litte sat there in a daze.
—
Donny was in an exceptionally good mood all afternoon.
The reason he had chosen to stop abruptly and leave was to give Litte ti to reflect on his words.
He wouldn’t provide answers but would guide Litte toward the idea that “Orson might harm him.”
As they say, even the strongest dam can be undone by a single ant. Donny was digging that “ant hole” now. In ti, as the cracks between the brothers widened, the dam would collapse, and the stage would be set for a power struggle.
The re thought of the chaos that might one day engulf the Stranick family made Donny want to laugh out loud.
As evening approached, Donny stood in front of his mirror, checking his appearance one last ti. Once satisfied, he left his room.
At the entrance, a group of his followers—mostly sons and daughters of counts—was already waiting for him.
Since their families were vassals of the Duke of Napolis, they were obligated to serve as Donny’s companions while studying at the Imperial Academy.
Tyril wasn’t among them; his face hadn’t yet healed, and the banquet Donny was attending tonight was too important to bring along soone as conspicuous as a “pig-headed” lackey.
“Let’s go,” Donny said, leading his entourage off-campus.
—
anwhile, Litte returned to the dormitory in the afternoon, her mind replaying Donny’s words.
Even before this, Little Dark had warned her not to trust Orson too much.
But... could she really not trust Orson?
At that mont, Orson opened her door, startling her.
“Ah, Litte.” Standing in the doorway, Orson was dressed in formal attire. He adjusted his collar and looked at him. “I have a banquet to attend tonight, so I’ll be back late. Just grab sothing to eat for dinner, okay?”
“Ah, alright.” Litte nodded.
“Good.” Orson was about to leave but paused as if rembering sothing. “Oh, about yesterday... I’m sorry.”
“I was too intrusive about your life. Your life should be your own to decide, Litte. I won’t do that again.”
He smiled at him, then closed the door and left.
Reviews
All reviews (0)