The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 158. The Little Brother’s story

Chapter 158: 158. The Little Brother’s story

In the gold section leader’s office sparkled with fancy things, its shiny wooden walls catching the warm glow of lamps, their soft light shining on tapestries showing the Academy’s big wins.

Lucian Caulem sat on a soft velvet couch, legs crossed easily. His gray eyes, calm and cool, hid a flicker of annoyance. Across from him sat Prince Cassain, blue eyes sharp with clever charm. Darius Rathur, the gold section leader, stood behind him, gold brooch shining, dark eyes staring hard at Lucian Caulem.

Cassain leaned closer, his smile smooth but sharp. "My thanks for joining us, Lucian Caulem. It’s rare to host such a talent."

Lucian’s lips curved into a small, mocking smirk. "A prince’s summons isn’t easily ignored, Your Highness. I’d hate to disappoint."

Cassain’s smile tightened, a flash of irritation in his amber eyes, but he kept going, his voice full of fake warmth. "Your entry into the election tournament as a special slot is impressive. Well earned, I’d say."

Lucian’s smirk grew, his gray eyes shining with quiet confidence. "Second-highest scorer in Academy history. It was only a matter of time." He uncrossed his legs, leaning forward, his voice turning sharp, cutting through the polite words. "But let’s skip the flattery, highness. Why am I here?"

Cassain’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning sly, voice low and curious. "Rumors swirl about your... less capable brother, Leonhardt, being named the next Duke of Caulem. Some argue the title suits a prodigy like you better."

Lucian’s gaze locked onto Cassain’s. "And what’s your point, Your Highness?"

Darius stepped forward. "We know your worth, Lucian. Join our campaign in the tournament, and we’ll secure your rightful place as Duke."

Lucian sighs softly, moving slowly as he picked up an oval glass paperweight from the table. He turned it in his hands, his voice calm. "With your permission, Your Highness, allow me to tell a little story." His gray eyes flicked between Cassain and Darius. "It’s worth your time."

He set the paperweight spinning, its soft hum filling the silence. "Years ago, the Dukedom of Caulem had a young heir who loved a woman from a small noble house. His father, enraged, forced him into a marriage of duty."

"The wife was loyal, but the heir’s heart stayed cold. He brought his true love home as a concubine. The wife had a son, but he didn’t even bothered to name him. A year later, his concubine had another son, Lucian, and he named me with joy."

The paperweight spun again. "Growing up, I hated my older brother being first in line, even my mother’s poison added to it. But when the Duke’s wife died, my brother cried for her, continously, for day’s, he’s crying and crying and crying.

"I wondered—could someone who loves like that care for me like that too? My hate started to fade."

Lucian’s voice grew quieter, his eyes pinning Cassain, whose blue gaze darkened with hidden anger. "Then came the day lowlives planned to kill my brother on his way to the Academy."

The paperweight spun faster, its hum louder. "He survived, but he came back different. Now he respects me, talks to me, even loves me. But that wasn’t enough. When my little sister—the one I love most—was kidnapped, he risked everything to save her, never letting her face danger. He did it alone."

Lucian stopped the paperweight, his hand firm, his voice rising, strong and fierce. "That’s the man I stand beside. So tell me, Prince—" His gray eyes blazed, cutting through Cassain’s mask. "How could I ever betray someone like him?" He slammed the paperweight onto the table, the loud crack echoing, the glass shaking under his hand.

Cassain’s eyes burned with cold anger, his jaw tight, like he might lose control.

Darius Rathur stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. "Watch your tongue, dear," he said, his tone sharp. "You stand before the Prince."

Lucian’s lips curled into a smirk. "The Prince?" he said, leaning back. "The one scheming to steal my brother’s honor?"

"Honor?" Cassian snapped. "Leonhardt’s a pest I could crush underfoot."

Lucian tilted his head, chuckling low. "A pest that forced you to grovel for my help?"

"That must sting, Your Highness," he said, his voice a teasing whisper.

Darius’s face darkened, his fists clenched. "You’re out of line, Caulem."

"I came to spit on your sad little offer in person," he said, his words firm and fearless. "You’re the ones who crossed the line, calling my brother worthless."

Cassain leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, his voice soft but deadly. "You think we need you to win?" he said, his tone icy. "You’re still under Darius’s command as a gold-class student."

Lucian threw his head back, laughing loudly, the sound bouncing off the fancy walls, grating on Cassain’s nerves. He covered his mouth, but his eyes sparkled with fun. "That’s rich," he said, catching his breath. "I’ll have to tell Velmera that one."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a sneaky hiss. "When I heard you were bullying my brother indirectly, I was eager to rip the gold leader’s seat from Darius just to make his academy life easier. But when he started fighting back. I didn’t need that seat anymore."

He moved closer, his gray eyes locked on Cassain’s. "Mark my words, your highness—if my brother—if he ordered me, I’d take that seat without a thought."

Lucian stood smoothly, fixing his tunic. "Good day, Your Highness," he said, his tone light but firm. "Velmera gets mad if I’m late, and I’d rather not test her patience." He walked to the door.

Cassain’s voice broke through, low and threatening. "You know who you’re defying, Caulem?"

Lucian stopped at the door, glancing back. "Doesn’t matter," he said, stepping into the hallway, his boots clicking softly down the quiet corridor, leaving the office in stunned silence.

As he walked, a figure came walking towards him—a young woman with a gold brooch, her graceful walk catching attention. Lucian’s eyes narrowed, recognizing Elara Valcourt, the gold-class beauty linked to rumors about Leonhardt’s supposed stalking.

He never believed those stories, never saw proof, but her heading toward Cassain’s office sparked doubt. Elara passed without looking, her eyes cold and blank, she slipped into the office, the door closing with a soft thud.

Lucian paused, looking back, his smirk fading into a serious frown. Those rumors about Leonhardt and Elara always felt wrong. Now, seeing her enter the room, a new suspicion grew.

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