Chapter 87: perception

Chapter 87: Chapter 87: perception

The Strategic Management Society occupied one of the larger lecture halls in the Business Building.

Unlike most academic organizations, the society functioned more like a corporate think tank than a student club. Every academic year, its members developed business proposals, identified market opportunities, and built ventures from the ground up, testing whether their ideas could survive beyond the classroom. By year’s end, each team was expected to present not only a comprehensive business plan, but also the measurable results of its execution—its financial performance, operational challenges, and recommendations for future growth.

For students expected to one day lead corporations and family enterprises, it was among the university’s most demanding organizations.

By the time Damian arrived, the weekly executive meeting had already begun.

The faculty adviser looked up from the discussion as the lecture hall door quietly opened.

"Running behind schedule, President Blackwood?"

Damian inclined his head.

"Unfortunately."

"My apologies, Professor."

The older man nodded.

"We’re finalizing the proposals for this academic year’s ventures."

"Take your seat."

"Thank you."

Without another word, Damian crossed the room and took his seat at the head of the conference table.

A first-year committee representative stood before the room, finishing the presentation of her group’s proposal. The moment she concluded, several hands immediately rose with questions, offering differing opinions on the venture’s viability, projected costs, and target market.

The discussion continued for several minutes before gradually settling.

The adviser looked toward Damian.

"So, President?"

Damian lowered the proposal in his hands.

"The concept itself is sound."

The freshman straightened instinctively.

"But your market research is too narrow."

He tapped one page of the report.

"Most of your respondents come from a single college."

"If you’re positioning this as a university-wide venture, your data should reflect the university—not merely your immediate circle."

The students quickly scribbled notes.

"Revise the survey."

"Expand your sample size."

"Then reassess your pricing assumptions."

The committee representative nodded.

"Yes, President."

Another proposal followed.

Then another.

Some required only minor adjustments.

Others prompted lengthy discussion between committee heads.

Damian rarely spoke first.

He preferred listening while members challenged one another’s assumptions and refined their ideas.

Yet whenever the discussion reached an impasse, the room inevitably looked toward him.

Not because he spoke the most—

But because he carried the responsibility of making the final decision.

Nearly ninety minutes later, the faculty adviser closed his folder.

"We’ll take a fifteen-minute recess."

"We’ll resume promptly."

Conversations immediately filled the lecture hall.

Some members remained seated to continue discussing revisions.

Others headed toward the adjoining lounge for coffee before returning to their respective organizations.

Before leaving, Damian answered a few final questions from committee leaders regarding proposal timelines and presentation schedules.

Only then did he step into the lounge.

The space was shared by several academic organizations housed on the same floor. During breaks, students from neighboring societies often crossed paths before returning to their own meetings.

"There he is."

Damian looked up.

Julian stood near the coffee counter, lifting his paper cup with an unmistakably mischievous grin.

"Hey, Lancelot."

Damian slowed.

"...Lancelot?"

"That’s inaccurate."

Julian closed his eyes.

"I knew that was coming."

Adrian looked up from the folder he had been reading.

"Lord Anthony isn’t his king."

"They’re cousins."

"They’re equals."

"The comparison doesn’t work."

Julian waved a dismissive hand.

"Fine."

"Historical accuracy acknowledged."

"Now let me tease my friend."

A faint smile touched Adrian’s lips.

"As you wish."

Julian turned back to Damian.

"Now..."

"Do you finally remember your friends?"

Damian accepted the coffee Julian had apparently ordered for him.

"I wasn’t aware I’d forgotten them."

"You absolutely did."

"Adrian and I walked right past your table."

"You looked straight through us."

Damian frowned.

"...You were there?"

Julian looked triumphantly toward Adrian.

"You see?"

"I told you."

Adrian nodded once.

"You genuinely didn’t notice."

Damian searched his memory.

"...Apparently not."

Julian laughed.

"I’ve known you for years."

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ignore us like that."

"We were having lunch."

"So I noticed."

Julian’s grin widened.

"I also noticed you helping yourself to Lady Beaumont’s strawberry shortcake."

"She didn’t seem to mind."

Julian blinked.

"...That’s your entire explanation?"

Damian regarded him with mild confusion.

"It wasn’t an issue."

"And then you put broccoli on her plate."

"She wasn’t eating enough vegetables."

Julian stared.

"...You’re serious."

"I am."

"Lady Beaumont has disliked vegetables since childhood."

"It seemed irresponsible to let her finish lunch without eating any."

Julian let out a disbelieving laugh.

"I honestly don’t know how to respond to that."

"It is a reasonable explanation."

Julian looked at Adrian.

"I wasn’t asking for expert testimony."

Adrian merely shrugged.

"You asked a question."

Julian sighed dramatically before turning back to Damian.

"I swear..."

"I’ve never seen you act like that with anyone."

Damian tilted his head.

"Like what?"

"You took her cake."

"You put food on her plate."

"You ignored your two best friends."

Damian considered the list.

"I’ve known Lady Beaumont since she was a child."

Julian waited.

"She’s practically family."

"If I worry that she isn’t eating properly..."

He gave a slight shrug.

"I don’t see anything unusual about it."

"I’ve always regarded her as a younger sister."

Julian’s smile softened.

"I know."

"And I’m not questioning your intentions."

He gestured lightly with his coffee.

"You know that."

"I know that."

"Adrian knows that."

"But the rest of the university doesn’t."

Silence settled over the three of them.

"They don’t know the history between the Blackwoods and the Beaumonts."

"They don’t know the two of you grew up together."

"They just saw Lord Blackwood sharing dessert with Lord Ashford’s fiancée."

Adrian closed the folder in his hands.

"Julian isn’t questioning your conduct."

"He’s pointing out how it may be perceived."

Damian remained quiet.

Of course he understood.

Julian wasn’t questioning his intentions.

He was reminding him that appearances rarely carried explanations with them.

To Damian, lunch had simply been lunch.

Lady Beaumont had always been Anthony’s fiancée.

There had been nothing unusual about their interaction in his eyes.

But Julian was right.

No one else shared that perspective.

No one else knew the familiarity that existed between their families.

They saw only what had happened in the cafeteria.

Lord Blackwood sharing dessert with Lord Ashford’s fiancée.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly around the paper cup.

...I should be more mindful.

Not because he believed he had done anything wrong.

But because he understood that perception often mattered just as much as intent.

A soft chime echoed through the lounge.

The fifteen-minute recess had come to an end.

Julian finished the last of his coffee.

"Back to work."

Damian nodded.

"I’ll see you both later."

The three exchanged brief farewells before returning to their respective organizations.