The Duke's youngest son is Unbearable

Asher's POV

Asher stepped out of the bathhouse wearing a comfortable set of silk pajamas, tailored perfectly to his frame. The fabric had a casual yet elegant look, exuding the luxury only afforded to nobility. Stretching his arms lazily, he followed behind the butler, his wet hair slightly tousled, adding to his carefree appearance.

As they walked toward the grand dining hall, Asher casually asked, "Mister Alfonso, how long do you think it will take for Father to get here?"

The butler, ever composed, replied, "The Duke might take a day at most to reach the capital, young master, so there's no need to worry. And haven't I told you to simply call me Alfonso?"

Asher let out a small groan. "Ugh, haven't I told you it feels weird calling someone so much older than me by their name so casually?"

Alfonso's lips twitched upward in a subtle smile, but he remained silent as they entered the dining hall.

The room was grand and imposing, centered around a long bronze table polished to a mirror-like sheen. It could easily seat fifty men on each side. The towering walls were adorned with portraits of past Crimson family heads, their stern gazes seemingly watching over the room.

Arthur was already seated on the left side, next to the main seat reserved for their father. His posture was impeccable, his expression calm yet imposing. Without a word, Asher took the opposite seat across from his older brother.

The maids moved with precision, placing plates of food in front of him. The aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and exotic spices filled the air. Asher inhaled deeply and couldn't help but gulp, thinking, Even though I just stuffed myself with all those fruits, I'm still so hungry.

The moment the maid set the last dish on the table, Asher dug in without a shred of decorum. He tore into the food like a man starved, ignoring the fact that Arthur was watching him with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur cleared his throat sharply, trying to get his attention. Asher, pretending not to hear, continued to shovel food into his mouth with abandon.

Arthur's throat-clearing grew louder, but Asher kept ignoring him, savoring each bite as though it was his last. Finally, Arthur's patience snapped, and his expression darkened.

Before Arthur could say anything, Alfonso stepped in, his tone polite but firm. "Young master Asher, it would be better to eat with a little more elegance."

Pausing mid-bite, Asher swallowed hastily and waved his hand dismissively. "What's the matter? It's just us here. Nobody's gonna know."

Arthur's jaw tightened, and he finally spoke. "It's not about whether someone is watching or not. It's about having manners."

Asher froze for a moment, sensing his brother's growing irritation. Crap, he thought. "Who cares... I mean, I care! So don't get angry. I'll eat properly, okay?"

Arthur gave him a pointed look but said nothing, and the tension hung awkwardly in the air.

Hoping to change the subject, Asher asked casually, "By the way, Brother, why are you in the capital all of a sudden? Shouldn't you be with Father, helping him manage the territory or something?"

Arthur stiffened slightly at the question, his hand pausing mid-cut. He didn't respond immediately, continuing to eat with deliberate calmness.

Asher was about to press further when Alfonso, ever the savior of awkward moments, answered smoothly, "Master Arthur is here to handle some matters related to the palace."

"Palace matters, huh?" Asher muttered, narrowing his eyes at Arthur's expression. Suddenly, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Oh, I see! More like princess matters, right?"

Arthur shot a sharp glare at Alfonso, silently cursing the butler for giving Asher ammunition. "What nonsense are you thinking about? What princess?"

Asher chuckled knowingly. "You know, sometimes you can be really cute, Brother."

"Shut up," Arthur snapped, his ears tinged red.

Asher burst out laughing, his carefree demeanor infectious. Even the maids and servants around the hall couldn't help but smile and stifle small chuckles at the scene.

It wasn't exactly a secret that there was something between Arthur and Princess Helen, the second princess of the Aurion Empire. Rumors had swirled for years, and the fact that neither party ever denied them only fueled the gossip further.

"Come on, Brother," Asher teased, "it's not like it's a secret. I know about it, Father knows about it, Grandfather knows about it, the Emperor knows about it—basically, the entire empire knows about it. Why don't you just propose already?"

Arthur sighed heavily and finally answered, his tone weary. "The next Emperor hasn't been decided yet. The crown prince title is still vacant since the eldest prince refused it. Any action surrounding a prince or princess could be seen as a political move."

"So what?" Asher interjected, waving a piece of bread in the air. "It's not like it matters much who becomes the crown prince right now. The Emperor will probably stay on the throne for decades anyway. Why bother?"

Arthur sighed again, this time at his brother's carelessness.

Asher continued, "Besides, do they realize how much responsibility comes with that title? In my opinion, only idiots willingly take on that burden."

Suddenly, Asher felt the weight of Arthur's glare and realized his mistake. Oh no. "I didn't mean you, Brother! I mean them! You're actually very smart—so smart!"

---

Meanwhile, at Aetherion Academy

Ariana Emberfell strode briskly through the academy halls, her expression tight with worry. The second daughter of the Emberfell Marquis family, she was known for her sharp intellect and fiery temper. As a professor at the esteemed academy, she had a reputation for being strict but fair.

The news of the dungeon incident had reached her while she was away. Her personal student, Elvin, had been involved in something serious, and she had wasted no time returning to the academy.

Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she approached the room where Elvin was being held. As soon as she entered, her sharp gaze landed on the young man sitting quietly, his head bowed in guilt.

"Elvin," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Explain everything. Now."

Elvin looked up hesitantly, his guilt-ridden eyes meeting hers. "Professor, I..."

But before he could continue, Ariana cut him off. "No excuses. Start from the beginning. What happened in the dungeon?"

Elvin swallowed hard, knowing there was no escaping her interrogation.

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