Seeing the butler Sanders actually leading a disheveled fellow, swaying as he entered the door, the young man who had just stepped out of the hall was dressed in a dashing knight’s outfit. The silver-threaded, ring-wrapped bullwhip coiled in his hand was deftly retracted into his palm. The young knight carefully scrutinized the somewhat familiar-looking man who had just walked in.

“Sanders, who is this guy?” Frowning, unable to immediately recognize who the man before him was, the young knight couldn’t help but ask in a deep voice.

The ragged young man shot a sidelong glance at the fellow standing above him on the steps, still with that same look. The cold gaze made the young knight standing on the steps instantly recognize him: “Harold! It’s you!”

“That’s right, it’s me. Surprised?” The ragged young man’s lips twitched slightly, tilting his head with a mocking smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he replied.

“Hmph! You’re still the same, not a bit changed. It’s been three years—where have you been?” The young knight’s initial excitement faded at the sight of that annoying half-smile on the other’s face, his expression returning to its usual composure.

“Where have I been? Wasn’t it you all who told me to go hide for two years? It’s been three years now, I even stayed away an extra year. I suppose there shouldn’t be any more problems, right?” The ragged young man looked around the courtyard carelessly. “Heh, looks like our old man’s harvest in the territory these two years has been pretty good, huh? Even inside and outside the walls have been tidied up. Seems my leaving really did bring our old man some good luck.”

His brows knit tightly together, the young knight straightened his robust frame slightly. “Harold, is that how you talk? Has three years of wandering still not taught you a shred of manners or decorum? Father has gone to the Duke’s residence and will be back soon. I hope you’ll watch your words when he returns—don’t anger him!”

Seeing his unruly half-brother still so defiant and unrestrained, the young knight felt a wave of frustration. Why did the The Lester Family have to produce such a disgrace? The blood of servants could only ever make a lowly servant; even if he had climbed up to noble blood, it was hard to change that reality.

He sighed inwardly. His always wise and decisive father had, in a drunken moment, produced such a wayward and unprincipled son, something he could never quite accept. Over the past three years, under his own capable performance, the The Lester Family had won the Duke’s favor and gradually improved their reputation. But now that this fellow was back, he feared that all the hard work he and his father had put in over the past three years would be ruined in an instant. Still, they shared the same father and both belonged to the The Lester Family. As the legitimate eldest son, it wasn’t his place to say much; he could only wait for his father to return and discuss how to deal with him.

Hearing his self-righteous brother speak this way, the ragged young man gave a slight, cold laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t anger Father. I’m sure he won’t be happy to see me either. I think I’d better just stay quietly in the back courtyard.”

Casting a contemptuous glance at the other’s slovenly appearance, the young knight said coldly, “Quietly? I highly doubt you can manage that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have slunk away from Cyprus with your tail between your legs! Do you know how much trouble Father took on for you? If you still consider yourself a member of the The Lester Family, I hope you won’t do anything else to damage our family’s reputation!”

“A member of the The Lester Family? Heh, such a glorious and noble identity—how could I possibly bear it? Conan, in everyone’s eyes, you’re probably the only one fit for that sacred role, right? If I could have borne such an identity, I wouldn’t have had to run away three years ago, would I?” The ragged young man shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned, but his face darkened unnaturally. Clearly, the other had touched the deepest, most painful part of his heart.

As the two brothers’ sharp-tongued exchange was about to turn ugly, the butler Sanders, who had been silent on the side, had no choice but to step in and stop the impending verbal clash. He forcibly pulled the ragged young man—none other than the The Lester Family’s illegitimate second son, Harold Lester—away from the front courtyard.

Taking a deep breath, Harold stood in the chilly courtyard, silently gazing up at the azure sky, lost in thought.

Chapter Five: True Friend

It had been two days since his return, and everyone in the household avoided Harold as if he were the plague. The head of the family, Sir Ramla Lester, had only met him once with cold indifference and then wanted nothing more to do with this man who seemed to have nothing in common with his own wisdom. All Ramla Lester ever got from him was endless trouble and embarrassment. Having such a misfit in the The Lester Family could only be blamed on the unfortunate timing, place, and circumstances of his own biological urges, or so Count Ramla Lester always thought.

On the surface, Harold didn’t seem much changed from three years ago. In front of outsiders, he was still that lecherous, cynical figure. But only Harold himself knew that the original Harold had ceased to exist after being toyed with and abandoned three years ago, forced into exile. The Harold that remained was someone who, for the past three years, had been forced to roam the continent like a stray dog, struggling to survive. This fate only began to change a year ago.