“Damian, truly my son. To look so valiant already—today at the hunt, Damian is sure to bag the most game of all.”
Duke Maldini, mounted on a warhorse, spotted Shushu and praised him lavishly before the officials.
Whether it stemmed from a guilty conscience over having neglected Damian all this time, or because of the sheer effectiveness of Callix’s manufactured lie about ‘receiving a request from his mother in a dream,’ he couldn’t quite tell.
“Ha-ha-ha. Spoken like a true Duke. Truly, the Vesper bloodline is peerless. To be this reliable at such a tender age, how delighted the Grand Duke must be.”
“Indeed. If I might venture an opinion, Young Master Damian is bound to manifest as a dominant alpha. The firstborn an ultra-dominant alpha, and the second a dominant alpha within the same household—what an immense divine blessing. Though counted among the collateral branches, imperial blood is imperial blood. There is always something exceptional about them.”
Flattered by the sycophancy of the officials, Shushu almost fell under the delusion that his height had suddenly shot up to 180cm.
Looking down at his white hands, which were much smaller than a maple leaf and well below the size expected of his peers, he barely managed to recover his reason.
So this was how aristocrats grew up to be so arrogant and out of touch.
Surrounded entirely by people like this day in and day out, it was no wonder they completely lost all self-objectivity.
“Your Grace, look forward to it. Since this is his first time attending a hunt, Damian will surely capture the most game.”
Callix swept Shushu up in his arms and hoisted him onto his own warhorse.
In reality, any game caught under Damian’s name today would undoubtedly be brought down by his older brother, Callix.
The Duke and the officials alike were well aware of that fact, yet they praised Damian until their throats ran dry.
Riding a horse for the very first time, Shushu froze stiff with terror.
Callix, seated right behind him in the saddle, slowly guided the horse forward and issued a warning.
“Damian, horses are clever animals; they read the mood of the rider they carry very well. If it senses that you’re afraid of it, it will start acting up and eventually throw you off. So don’t let it catch you being scared.”
Every time the horse took a step, his lightweight body bounced up and down.
If he fell off and rolled right now, breaking arms and legs would be the least of his worries.
As Shushu squeezed his eyes shut in pure panic, Callix said in a low voice.
“Didn’t I tell you before? If you’re scared, rely on your older brother.”
Shushu pressed his back tightly against Callix.
Having Callix’s arms acting like safety barriers on both sides of him as he held the reins brought a modest sense of reassurance.
Flanked by soldiers carrying red banners, the nobility passed beyond the castle gates.
The people of the North had gathered outside to watch the Grand Duke’s procession depart for the hunt.
“Callix! Callix! Callix!”
“Have a safe return, Young Duke!”
Callix’s popularity was immense.
Everyone chanted his name with the fanatical zeal of hardcore fans attending an idol concert.
Naturally, he was an ultra-dominant alpha and a 9th-circle archmage—wonders that hadn’t been born in the imperial family for over a century.
Add to that his raven-black hair, crimson eyes, and the classic cold-blooded, devastatingly handsome looks of a Northern Grand Duke.
Who wouldn’t idolize someone born with the archetypal appearance and power straight out of a romance fantasy novel?
Yet Callix, sitting right behind Shushu, showed no sign of pleasure or warmth at the sight of people cheering themselves hoarse for him.
In this world, the prevailing mindset was that whatever commoners yelled out meant nothing more than the squeaking of ants to aristocrats dwelling in the heavens.
As the heir to the highest-ranking ducal family second only to the imperial house, it was only natural that his pride reached stratospheric heights.
Passing through the massive crowds, they arrived at a forest where the leaves were dyed in autumn’s deep crimson hues.
The procession came to a halt in front of the maple forest.
The Duke instructed the officials attending the Thanksgiving hunt to return safely without injuries.
The soldiers immediately set about erecting large formation tents on flat ground.
Despite joining the hunt, Meiyou had come dressed in a gown with voluminous skirts because her purpose differed entirely from the alphas’.
As the sole concubine of the Grand Duke within the ducal estate, she intended to spend her time socializing and chatting with the wives and lovers of the nobles attending the hunting festival.
Contrary to her expectations, she caught sight of the cheeky fake Damian—who had completely bewitched both the Duke and the Young Duke—and glared daggers at him as she passed by.
Catching Meiyou’s gaze, Shushu experienced the terrifying sensation of his limbs locking up stiff as a corpse.
Judging by the fact that he was suffering this level of post-traumatic stress disorder just from getting hit in the head once, he could fully understand why the real Damian—having suffered far more brutal atrocities over the span of five years—had grown up to hate the world and go mad.
Fortunately, failing to notice Shushu’s sudden internal panic, Callix slowly guided his horse forward into the forest.
His personal attendants gripped the leashes of the hunting hounds and walked along the perimeter to escort them.
Shushu glanced back with his eyes to confirm whether Melissa was keeping up properly.
He was worried she might be exhausted, having walked continuously without a break for the two hours it took to reach the forest without riding a horse.
Catching Shushu’s eye, she smiled reassuringly to let him know she was fine.
Though he felt guilty for riding comfortably by himself while she walked, seeing her smile brought him relief.
Just then, a chilling voice rang out from right above his head.
The raw killing intent buried in that low voice caused goosebumps to break out all over Shushu’s silky skin.
“Damian, it seems you find that woman quite pleasing.”
With a mere flick of his chin, Callix ordered Melissa to approach them.
Looking flustered at the disrespectful treatment directed at her by the Young Duke—who was young enough to be her son—Melissa hurried over.
Though the insult wasn’t aimed at him directly, watching such high-handed bullying inflicted upon his beloved mother bruised Shushu’s pride and filled him with heartache.
“What is your name?”
“It is Melissa, Young Duke.”
Melissa lowered her head in a polite bow.
