I’d been scammed. By a ten-year-old kid, no less.
At first, I only felt sorry for the child who said he needed a mother. I kept him company a few times, played with him a little, even bought him meals.
Thinking back, I even helped him study. I almost looked like a proper guardian—and I felt oddly proud of my maturity.
But all of that was before I realized the “lonely” child’s innocent words had tricked me… and landed me locked inside a duke’s estate.
—
Ascal tapped his fingers against the round table, deep in thought.
He had come to realize that if Rubrion—the boy who was slowly transforming into the ideal heir of the ducal house—was to succeed, she needed to stay by his side.
After all, the only person who could turn that wild leopard cub of a boy into a tame house cat was the young baroness herself.
“Hiring her as your nanny would be the best approach.”
The real question was whether Schmitt would show interest in that position.
“…Then how about playing on her sense of duty and guilt?”
Rubrion pointed to the seventh and final plan at the bottom of the strategy sheet.
“I’ve found a lot more of her weak spots than she realizes.”
The duke, his secretary, and the butler all leaned over the table, studying the paper. They exchanged quiet comments as they stared at the sly, meticulous plan of the ten-year-old boy.
“You’re truly remarkable, young master.”
“…I didn’t raise you to be like this.”
“Well, I’ll do as I’m told.”
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