Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 656: Some People Have No Taste

It was one thing for Joy’s subordinates to eat a meal that Cassius had prepared.

She could excuse that—it was partaking in hospitality after all.

It was another thing entirely for all of them to participate in one of his events, like the fashion show he had held just yesterday.

Joy had reluctantly attended that as well, and while it had grated on her, she could still rationalize it as observation.

But this?

This was absolutely inexcusable.

Joy stood frozen at the edge of the garden, her mind struggling to process the scene before her.

These were her sisters. Her cold-hearted, iron-willed sisters who had carried out countless judgments and executions right by her side.

Women who had stared down death without flinching, who had faced the worst criminals in the kingdom without batting an eye.

And here they were.

Gleefully begging to feed Cassius like he was some beloved pet.

Like he was family.

Like he was theirs.

The man himself looked utterly overwhelmed, drowning in a sea of spoons and pleading voices.

Two spoons were already in his mouth at once, and a third sister was trying to shove hers in alongside them.

Vivi clung to his side, watching the chaos with childish amusement, occasionally adding her own tiny voice to the chorus demanding he eat more.

But what made it worse—what made Joy’s vision swim with dizziness was Stella.

Her right hand.

Her most trusted lieutenant.

Stella was right there in the thick of it, holding out a bowl with desperate, pleading eyes.

"Young Master, please!"

Stella begged, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I know it’s only oatmeal, but it’s the best oatmeal you’ll ever have! I serve it to the sisters every morning after prayer, and they absolutely love it!"

"You have to try it!"

Joy felt the world tilt beneath her feet.

Even Stella.

Even her most loyal, most dedicated, most serious sister had fallen under his spell.

All the warnings came flooding back to her—the whispers she had heard from so many people, the cautions from the Empress herself.

They had told her that staying by Cassius’s side for too long would change her.

That even the most hardened veterans would be swayed by him, would find themselves drawn into his orbit.

She had dismissed it as exaggeration.

As paranoia.

But now she was witnessing it firsthand.

While Joy remained frozen in her personal crisis, Aqua recovered from her initial bafflement and found herself grinning despite everything.

There was something genuinely funny about watching her brother being smothered by enthusiastic nuns.

She nudged Isabelle, who stood nearby watching the chaos with fond exasperation.

"So..."

Aqua said, her voice light with amusement.

"Want to explain what exactly is going on here? Why is everyone trying to smother my brother with food?"

Isabelle shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips.

"The sisters are simply returning favors to the Young Master."

Maria’s eyebrows shot up.

"Favors? What kind of favors could possibly warrant this kind of reaction?"

She gestured at the scene—Cassius with his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, Vivi tugging at his sleeve, and at least five sisters simultaneously attempting to insert spoons into his mouth.

"They look like they’re trying to worship him, not thank him."

Isabelle chuckled.

"Well, you see, the Young Master was having tea with all of them this evening. During their conversation, he mentioned how pretty they all looked in their clothes yesterday and suggested they should wear normal clothes more often."

She paused, watching the scene with fond eyes.

"Of course, they all appreciated the compliment, but they resisted. Said they couldn’t possibly do that—they’re dedicated to wearing their habits, it’s part of who they are. And no matter how much the Young Master insisted, they wouldn’t relent."

Aqua leaned in, curious. "So what happened?"

"So eventually, he offered an alternative." Isabelle’s smile widened. "He asked them—what if, instead of wearing new dresses, they made the robes they already wear even prettier?"

Maria tilted her head. "Prettier how?"

"Well, everyone got very interested at that. They asked what he meant. And the Young Master—"

Isabelle shook her head in wonder

"—he simply asked them to give him one of their robes. An extra one, if possible."

She gestured toward the chaos.

"They were all confused, but they gave him one. He went into a room by himself, and when he came out..."

She paused watching everyone’s look of anticipation.

"Everyone was astonished."

"What...What did he do?"

Aqua leaned forward eagerly.

"He had embroidered beautiful designs onto the black fabric."

Isabelle’s voice carried genuine admiration.

"Flowers, leaves, stars and when I asked, he told me he had asked each sister what kinds of things they liked, and then stitched those very things onto their robes."

Maria gasped softly and when she looked over at the sisters, she realised it was true.

At the hem, at the bottom, there were subtle patterns.

They didn’t stand out—weren’t not pompous or flamboyant at all.

But if you look closely, you could appreciate the beauty of them.

It was the perfect blend of their required modesty and just a tiny bit of prettiness.

Aqua’s eyes lit up in wonder.

"My brother knows how to embroid?"

She shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her.

"At this point, I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore."

Beside her, Carmela, who had been watching in reluctant silence felt a similar sentiment stirring in her chest.

She would never admit it, but even she was impressed.

The designs looked really cute and she wondered how they would look on her old, blood-filled robe.

Isabelle sighed, watching the feeding frenzy continue.

"The sisters were so happy, so elated by this gesture. They wanted to do something in return for the Young Master."

"So they decided to make him dishes they were particularly proud of—their best recipes, their family specialties, their personal favorites."

"And, well...it all led to this. Now they’re fighting over who gets to have him taste their dish first."

Aqua snorted. "Fighting is putting it mildly."

"I know." Isabelle shook her head, but her eyes were soft. "It’s almost pitiful, really."

Hearing this comment, Carmela couldn’t hold back any longer.

She let out a sharp scoff, rolling her eyes so dramatically it was almost comical.

"Pitiful?" She repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "You think this is pitiful?"

She gestured at the scene—at Cassius surrounded by adoring women, being literally smothered with affection and attention.

"He’s literally being swarmed by beautiful nuns who would never give this kind of attention to any other man."

"Even if the Cardinal himself walked through that garden right now, they wouldn’t look twice at him."

"But here? They’re practically worshipping Cassius."

She shook her head.

"There’s nothing pitiful about this sight. Any man in the kingdom would kill for an opportunity like this."

"The only truly pitiful thing here..."

Her gaze shifted to Joy.

"...is how Joy looks right now."

Everyone followed her gaze.

Joy stood like a statue, her expression caught somewhere between devastation and denial.

Her lips moved slightly, as if she were trying to form words that wouldn’t come.

And as she stood there, her mood darkening with every passing second, a familiar figure walked past without warning.

Lucius.

The butler moved with his usual purposeful stride, his face scrunched in concentration as if he were mentally cataloging a thousand tasks that needed completing.

He was so focused that he nearly walked right past them without noticing.

But then—he stopped mid-step.

His head swiveled toward the group, and a bright smile broke across his face, as if someone had called out to him, though no one had.

"Oh! You’re all here!"

He exclaimed cheerfully before quickly saying,

"Were you looking at this? Were you admiring the design my Young Master added?"

He didn’t wait for an answer.

He didn’t need one.

With the enthusiasm of a child showing off a prized possession, Lucius grabbed the edge of his butler’s jacket and pulled it forward, proudly displaying the hem. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Look! Look at what Young Master did! See this beautiful design he put on it?"

Everyone leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of them.

And then—

They saw it.

Small, delicate, and utterly unexpected, there at the edge of Lucius’s jacket was an embroidered design.

But it wasn’t flowers or rainbows or any of the elegant patterns the nuns had received.

It was a tiny, adorable caricature of Cassius’s face.

Not the handsome, striking version everyone knew.

This was a tiny version—cute, round-cheeked, with oversized sparkling eyes and a little smile.

It was the kind of design that belonged on a child’s lunchbox or a cute accessory, not on the jacket of a dignified butler.

But nonetheless—Lucius beamed with utter joy.

"Isn’t it precious?"

He gushed, running his finger gently over the embroidery.

"My Young Master is always so handsome, of course, but this captures his adorable side! His cute side! Look at those little cheeks!"

He turned to Joy specifically, clearly expecting her to share in his delight.

"Isn’t it wonderful? Don’t you think it’s the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen?"

Joy stared at him.

Her expression didn’t change.

Lucius still waited for a response.

But Joy continued staring.

And then slowly, Lucius’s smile faltered.

His eyes narrowed with something that looked almost like betrayal.

"You don’t appreciate it." He said flatly. "You don’t appreciate his beauty at all."

Before anyone could respond, he huffed like he was offended and turned away with wounded dignity.

"Why do I even bother showing such precious things to people who can’t appreciate them?"

He muttered loudly as he walked off.

"Some people have no taste. No appreciation for art. No appreciation for cuteness."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving everyone dumbfounded.

He had come over without being called.

Showed off his embroidery without being asked.

Gotten offended without being insulted.

And now he was walking away as if they had done something wrong.