The moment Vester entered, every pair of eyes in the hall turned to him.

Whispers rippled through the crowd, no one bothering to lower their voices.

"Isn't that the third son?"

"Third son? Please, he's just the bastard's kid. Everyone knows Mr. Archer can't stand him."

"If it weren't for that mistress of his dying and leaving him without a guardian, there's no way Mr. Archer would've brought him back into the family. A bastard born to a mistress-what a disgrace for the Archers."

"And on top of that, the guy's crippled. A total waste. Mr. Archer treats him like a stray pet-barely worth the trouble to feed."

"I heard his mother was the one who crippled him. Do you know why? She broke his legs just so Mr. Archer might pity her enough to see her one last time. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Honestly, what's he even doing here tonight? Just an embarrassment."

Mr. Archer's face was practically green.

to be the subject of praise in these circles—young, brilliant, a prodigy

brought Vester home, the only thing people remembered

could he

the reputation he'd spent a lifetime building, branding him with a stain he could never

as if nothing was wrong, his expression calm, as though he couldn't hear

with contempt. "What's that cripple doing here?

disgust, she muttered, "Should've had someone run that

his brother and sister's eyes. He nodded politely to the guests around him, then wheeled himself straight up

was spoken, but the mocking glint in his eyes made it clear he felt anything

teeth. "What are

remained unruffled, and-where no one could see-a provocative smile flickered across his lips. "Sorry, I'm

close to shattering his own teeth. "Filthy

Vester's blue eyes, but it vanished in

looked up at

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