The Duchy’s Direction (1)
I followed after the duke into the office at the top of the spire.
The moment the door shut, Rosena’s atmosphere changed.
She was no longer the stern duke who had been lecturing the nobles in the corridor a moment ago, but wore an expression that seemed to anticipate something, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly.
“I have something to show you.”
Rosena reached toward the wall inside the office, and mana flowed along its surface as a hidden panel opened.
What lay beyond took up an entire room: a vast map and a set of status boards.
The second I stepped over the threshold, my jaw dropped.
A map of the entire Demon Realm covered the wall.
Troop deployments marked with red flags, vassal territories indicated by blue dots, dungeons and quarries circled in green, trade routes linked by gold lines.
The scale was beyond imagination.
Each territory was the size of a small city, and even counting the managed dungeons left me short by more than ten fingers.
Flags showing troop deployments were jammed so tightly into the map that there was barely an empty patch left.
“So... all of this is under Your Grace’s command?”
“All of it? No. These are only the major strongholds.”
Only the major strongholds?
I stared up at the map in genuine disbelief.
There were four quarries, two mana mines, and six separate grain-producing regions.
This wasn’t a duchy. It was a nation.
“Amazing. No, that word doesn’t even begin to cover it. You manage all of this on your own?”
Rosena folded her arms and turned her head slightly away.
She was clearly trying to hide the curve of her lips, but she wasn’t fooling anyone.
“So at last, you see it again. My dignity.”
“Honestly, I’d nearly forgotten it out in the garden. Now I really feel it.”
“Hmph.”
She snorted, but the way her shoulders lifted betrayed her. Rosena stood before the map with one hand on her hip and her chin raised high.
“You may praise me further.”
“Pardon?”
“I am granting you a special chance to praise me. Consider it an honor.”
A Seven Dukes member demanding praise like that.
For a moment I almost burst out laughing, but I swallowed it down and kept my expression solemn. Then I stepped closer to her as naturally as breathing.
“Aww, our Rosena Duke is so amazing. Managing such a vast domain so perfectly.”
“...Aww?”
Rosena’s eyes widened. Apparently it was a phrase this world didn’t have.
“This huge knight order, this prosperous grain belt, all of it was built by Your Grace. You did wonderfully. It’s incredible.”
“Y-Yes. I built it myself. Naturally it is incredible.”
Her voice rose a little.
The tips of her ears had begun to redden. Feeling pleased by the reaction, I reached out without thinking, set my palm on top of Rosena’s head, and slowly stroked her hair.
Her jet-black locks slipped softly through my fingers.
“Good job, our Rosena.”
Only after patting her did I realize it.
Ah. That might have been a little much. I’d basically petted the duke of the Demon Realm like a dog.
Even if she’d done all sorts of ridiculous things under the World Tree earlier, this was still her office, and this was supposed to be a formal occasion, more or less.
I was just about to draw my hand back when Rosena stood perfectly still.
Her face had gone red clear to the tips of her ears, and she turned her eyes aside as she cleared her throat, ahem, in a small, embarrassed cough.
Her lips parted and closed two or three times before she finally managed a single sentence.
“....If you wish it. You may praise me.... more.”
Her words were curt, but from the corner of her averted gaze she kept stealing looks at me.
She wanted more.
Clearly.
I walked over to the long sofa and sat down as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Leaning back, I patted my lap.
“If you’d like, Your Grace, you can lie down here. I’ll praise you even more comfortably.”
Rosena froze.
Her already red face deepened, and her brow furrowed.
“How insolent. You expect me to lie upon a male prostitute’s lap?”
“Not a male prostitute, just me. Damian. And besides, Your Grace, you were perfectly comfortable when you leaned against my shoulder under the World Tree earlier.”
“Th-that was because I was cold...!”
“Are you cold now as well?”
Rosena opened her mouth, then closed it again.
It was obvious she was searching for a rebuttal, but couldn’t find one.
I patted my lap once more.
After standing there for a long while, Rosena finally walked over to the sofa at a glacial pace.
She sat beside me, hesitated for what felt like forever, and then, with exquisite caution, lowered her head onto my lap.
Her black hair spilled across my thighs.
Looking down from above, her long eyelashes and the mole beneath her lip stood out with startling clarity. I began to stroke her head slowly.
“You did very well, Your Grace. Today’s tour of the duchy was impressive, and the way you scolded those nobles earlier was truly majestic.”
“.....Of course.”
Her voice had gone quiet.
She kept her eyes open, staring straight ahead, but I could feel the tension in her shoulders gradually draining away.
When my fingers combed through her hair and slid from her forehead to her temple, Rosena’s breathing slowed by a beat.
“You are.... a very strange man.”
“How so?”
“No one has ever treated me like this. Everyone else bows before me and cannot even meet my eyes.”
“Isn’t having your head patted better than having people bow and scrape?”
“....I do not know.”
Even as she said she didn’t know, her head tilted a fraction toward my hand.
The way she followed my strokes made her look exactly like a cat. I slid my fingers behind her ear and rubbed in slow circles.
At that moment, a tiny sound slipped from deep in Rosena’s throat.
“Grrr...”
I froze. Rosena’s eyes went wide. She had realized what she’d just done.
Her face turned red as if it might explode, and her body stiffened.
“T-that sound meant nothing. Pretend you did not hear it.”
“Yes, I didn’t hear anything.”
I had clearly heard it, but pretended I hadn’t. As I kept rubbing behind her ear, Rosena seemed to grit her teeth and endure it, but before even a minute had passed another low rumble escaped her.
This time, perhaps because she had given up, she closed her eyes without another word.
Then she leaned into me, just slightly—really, just slightly. Her back pressed not against the sofa but against my abdomen, and the head resting on my lap sank even deeper.
“....You.”
“Yes?”
“Would it be all right.... if you did this again tomorrow?”
At the question, I paused for a moment before answering. Then I smiled softly and continued stroking her hair.
“Anytime you want.”
Rosena said nothing else. Only the fingertips clutching my clothes tightened a little more.
Outside the office window, stars spilled across the night sky above the duchy, and in the distance the World Tree’s light pulsed in a calm, steady rhythm.
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Basement level two of the central spire in the duchy.
The room called the war council chamber had been lit for the first time in a very long while.
High-backed chairs lined the semicircular stone walls, and over the central round table a three-dimensional topographic map formed from mana glowed a cool blue.
The faces filling the room were the core of the duchy, every one of them.
Five marquises, and eight count-level commanders of similar standing. Every senior officer directly under the duke had gathered in one place.
“When was the last time we all came together like this?”
The marquise seated beside Baek Seon-hwa, a fiend woman with striking black horns named Karen, muttered with her arms folded. Baek Seon-hwa kept her eyes fixed on the round table and answered briefly.
“Not since just before the suppression campaign, most likely.”
“But this isn’t even a suppression meeting. Getting us all summoned because of a male prostitute? The duke really is something.”
At Karen’s words, laughter burst from across the table.
It was Ver. With her wolf ears perked up, she was chattering about something to the count-level commander beside her.
“You can actually look forward to it, seriously. I’ve been to the Dreaming Chalice, remember? The level of their male prostitutes is no joke, haha.”
“Really? The ones here are all skinny and useless, can’t even keep it up.”
“Exactly. Honestly, if you even touch the male prostitutes here too hard, it feels like their bones might break in your hand. Not fun at all.”
“Hah hah, right. Last time I was a little rough and he passed out. Total mood killer.”
Baek Seon-hwa let out an inward sigh at the conversation.
Of course they were skinny and couldn’t stay hard.
It’s because you keep beating and fucking them like that.
How are men with barely any mana supposed to endure being handled by high-ranking demons?
The whole setup was absurd—they were creating a system that would inevitably break people, then complaining the merchandise was poor—but she didn’t say any of that out loud.
“But Ver, what’s the top tier there like?”
Isabel, one of the marquises—a tall dragon hybrid—leaned back in her chair and asked lazily.
Ver grinned, eyes curved into crescents, and stuck out the tip of her tongue.
“Insane, Marquise. Their skin is like silk. Touch it and your fingers feel like they’ll sink right in, and just smelling them makes your head spin. One taste and you’ll never want to touch the male prostitutes here again.”
“Wow.... Now my mouth’s watering.”
Isabel actually licked her lips. The other commanders began leaning forward one by one, openly showing anticipation.
With the suppression campaign looming ahead, their nerves were already on edge, and a hunger for release had settled heavily over the whole chamber.
Then the massive stone doors parted with a deep, heavy sound.
The conversation stopped at once, and every gaze turned to the entrance.
Duke Rosena entered. She wore a uniform close in style to a black military dress, every line of it arranged without flaw.
Behind her came Damian at a half-step’s distance, with the head maid and four guards following after him.
The air in the chamber changed.
Not because of the duke’s pressure.
Because of Damian. Fair skin, a delicate frame, and a face so beautiful no one could look at it without admiration.
The commanders’ eyes were drawn to Damian as if by magnets.
“Ooooh...!! Is that the one?!”
Karen gave a low whistle. Isabel straightened in her chair, narrowing her eyes.
“....Damn. He’s sexy as hell. Can’t I be the one who fucks him?”
“Marquise.”
Ver quickly leaned toward Isabel and whispered,
“That one’s the duke’s pick. If possible, I’d recommend not touching him.”
“What? The duke picked him herself?”
“Yes. He’s the only male prostitute the duke chose on her tour of the brothel. You know how little interest she usually has in men.”
Isabel’s brows shot up. Ver smirked and added,
“But don’t worry. The male prostitutes at the Dreaming Chalice are all roughly that caliber. You’ll get to enjoy yourself plenty.”
“Really? They’re all that good?”
“I guarantee it. I saw them myself.”
Laughter spread among the commanders. They traded glances, wearing the faces of women looking forward to tomorrow.
Only Baek Seon-hwa looked at Damian without expression.
What caught her attention was how calm those eyes were, even in this bloodthirsty chamber, standing half a step behind the duke.
Rosena sat in the seat of honor.
With a single motion of smoothing her uniform, the murmuring died down.
Damian and the head maid were guided to side seats slightly removed from the round table.
They were positioned like a jury box raised above the courtroom floor.
The instant Damian sat down, a few of the commanders looked toward him again, only to whip their heads forward at the duke’s cough.
“We will begin.”
Rosena’s voice rang through the stone walls. Over the round table, the three-dimensional map flared brighter and began to rotate. The meeting was about to start.