Chapter 187: Evan

The Marquis frowned, and with his second son's reminder, he finally noticed the problem on the table.

Although the Austen family's prestige meant no one would accuse them of stinginess for lacking desserts,

a banquet without sweets or pastries would surely bring the family immense negative publicity.

He waved his hand, and the steward waiting nearby immediately stepped forward.

"Kael, what's going on?"

Steward Kael looked troubled but whispered, "My Lord, Young Master Adams is already preparing in the kitchen. I'll go check on the situation right away!"

"Hurry him up—don't keep our guests waiting! That would be terribly rude!"

"Yes, My Lord!"

The steward hurried away.

But Evan had no intention of letting this opportunity slip.

Earlier, Adams had pretended to have a solution, telling Kael not to worry, which had prompted the steward to rush off to find his mother.

Fortunately, his mother believed Adams was merely bluffing.

Subsequent spies sent to monitor the situation confirmed this.

Although the kitchen had been sealed off by Adams since morning, the watchers outside could be certain not even a single jar of honey had been brought in.

Without honey, there would be no reversal today.

"Father, I've heard a troubling rumor these past two days—I'm not sure if it's true—but people in Odin City say the honey Young Master Adams prepared for your birthday celebration was stolen by pirates!"

"That's why the castle now lacks enough honey to make desserts and pastries for tonight's banquet!"

Gasps erupted.

The nobles at the table began whispering among themselves.

A few vassals were fine—they'd already heard the news.

But the other honored guests, who had traveled from afar, heard it for the first time.

If the Austen Marquis's birthday banquet truly lacked desserts due to stolen honey, it would be a colossal joke.

The Marquis's face darkened instantly.

Whether from Evan's meddling or the bad news, he couldn't tell.

The Marchioness's eyes flickered with amusement, but she scolded, "Evan, where did you hear such nonsense? Didn't Steward Kael just say your brother is already preparing?"

"Mother, I hope this rumor is false too—after all, a banquet without desserts would make the Austen family a laughingstock!"

"But the city has been buzzing with it these past two days!"

The mother-and-son act left the Marquis utterly cornered.

The vassals at the table all knew: Young Master Adams was finished.

Nobles prized face above all, especially a great house like the Austens.

If this banquet failed and the Austen Marquis became a joke of the Eastern Frontier,

even the last shred of paternal affection he held for Adams would vanish.

The vassals' expressions varied—some delighted, others frowning in thought.

Clearly, Adams, the legitimate eldest son, still had a few supporters among them.

But if he lost this round, he would forever lose any hope of inheriting the title.

Worse, stripped of his father's final favor, Young Master Adams might very well be "killed off."

After all, primogeniture could never be violated.

"My Lord, Young Master Adams has arrived!"

At that moment, Steward Kael returned.

Following the steward was none other than Young Master Adams himself.

"Father, greetings. I wish you a joyous birthday!"

The Austen Marquis frowned at his eldest son, who looked disheveled.

His fine silk ceremonial robes were stained, his face dusted with flour.

"Adams, what is this?" the Marquis demanded, barely holding back his anger.

Even with forced restraint, his tone was unmistakable—any fool could hear it.

The Marchioness and Evan both smiled.

The Marquis was already furious over the honey—and now Adams had the audacity to show up at the banquet in such disarray, humiliating himself.

"Father, forgive my impropriety," Adams quickly apologized. "I intended to change into clean robes first, but Steward Kael said you wished to see me immediately! In my haste, I dared not delay!"

The steward added, "My Lord, when I went to the kitchen, Young Master Adams was personally overseeing the servants preparing tonight's desserts and pastries for you!"

"He said it was to thank you for raising him all these years!"

The Marquis's anger lessened slightly.

The noble guests, upon hearing this, nodded in understanding and began praising him.

"Yes, Father," Adams replied respectfully.

But Evan panicked. "Father, you haven't even asked Brother about the pastries yet!"

The Austen Marquis shot his second son a furious glare, then turned back to Adams, waiting for an explanation.

Adams spoke calmly: "Father, the rumor is true. I prepared honey for this celebration six months in advance, but over ten days ago, pirates stole it."

"I sent the family fleet to pursue them, but we recovered no honey."

"Even when I offered five times the market price in Odin City, every merchant claimed they were out of stock—I couldn't buy a single drop."

The Marquis's face grew darker.

Adams's admission changed nothing: the banquet was still ruined.

Just as the Austen Marquis was about to speak, Adams continued, "But Father, thanks to the Grace of the God of Glory, I found a way to salvage the situation—I've made the desserts and pastries, and your birthday celebration will not be spoiled."

"Otherwise, as your son, I could never forgive myself."

"Adams, you're lying!" Evan sneered. "If there's no honey, how could you possibly make desserts? Even tonight's juice won't be sweet!"

He couldn't let Adams get away with this.

Adams ignored him entirely. "Father, I'll have the servants bring the desserts now."

"Hmm," the Marquis couldn't tell what his eldest son intended.

But the situation had gone too far to hide—now he could only watch and see if Adams could truly recover.

Adams waved toward the entrance.

Moments later, dozens of servants entered in orderly procession.

Each carried a serving tray.

Upon reaching the hall, they moved to each table and placed the elegant trays in the center of the long table.

Only then did guests notice: several empty spaces had been deliberately left along the table's center—perfectly sized for the trays.

As the trays were opened, beautifully shaped, vividly colored pastries appeared before them.

Undeniably, these were the work of the Marquis's castle.

Every shape, every hue, was exquisite.

Yet sharp-eyed guests soon realized: though beautiful, the pastries bore no trace of honey.