Can You Feel the Difference in Power? - 3
Why is he like this? Albert tilted his head as he regarded Andy, who looked half out of his mind.
They had bathed together and returned to the office, only for Andy to end up in this state.
“Young Master. Are you listening?”
“Y-Yes?! Ah… yes! My apologies!”
Even his voice and posture had snapped into perfect formality.
Albert simply could not understand it.
Of course he couldn’t.
The idea that the boy had tucked his tail between his legs over nothing more than a cock was beyond anything he could imagine.
Monster. He’s a monster.
How in the world did a body like that manage to carry around something so enormous?
Andy’s head spun with the unsolvable riddle, yet one question only led to another.
I heard Her Majesty shares her bed with this man every single day. But if something like that went inside her, her insides would be crushed and she’d be left with serious injuries…
He was terrified.
Beatrix had always been frightening, but now even Albert inspired dread.
The pride he had taken in his own looks—believing he yielded to no one—shattered into pieces.
A young master’s role was to enter a household as a son-in-law and contribute to the birth of healthy children.
Therefore, the superior the penis, the more physically superior the man.
People believed that a healthy, outstanding cock could sow superior seed.
Even in this so-called reversed world, that belief held true without exception.
And yet the difference between their cocks was as vast as heaven and earth…
Andy clung desperately to the last threads of his reason while chewing over a bitter sense of defeat.
From status to appearance, he was forced to admit he lagged far behind in every charm a man could possess.
That admission could also be read as acknowledging a difference in rank.
And it was only natural for the lower-ranked to submit quietly to the higher-ranked—just as hierarchy was decided in the animal world.
“…That’s the end of what I have to say. Can you follow it?”
Albert asked with a doubtful expression.
Changing the thoughts and values Andy had absorbed and learned all his life would be an extremely difficult task for someone raised in this reversed world.
Yet the boy himself simply answered without a single complaint.
“I will follow.”
What’s gotten into this kid all of a sudden?
He was so obedient it was almost suspicious, but Albert decided to watch for now.
Without dropping his wary gaze, he called for a maid.
Education would take time, and if Andy were absent for too long his parents might worry.
Most women in this world possessed strong sexual desire, and the nobility took it a step further.
It was their duty to produce heirs and preserve the family line.
Of course there were exceptions, but Sophia Bayern fell squarely into the ordinary category.
Thus Andy had naturally undergone training to heighten his own lust, striving to match Sophia’s preferences.
Archery practice and horseback riding were examples of that effort.
The education had begun half by accident, yet his love for Sophia was entirely sincere.
Five years of unrequited love, after all.
People often said the shelf life of love was about three years.
Five years of pining certainly deserved recognition.
Albert poured his heart and soul into remaking Andy, and the results gradually became visible.
The boy even passed the ridiculous examination of “qualities a man ought to possess.”
As the heir of a marquis house, his learning speed was quite impressive.
“Lord Consort.”
They sat facing each other in the quiet office when Andy spoke first.
Albert’s pressure and intensive tutoring had changed his personality a great deal as well.
One of those changes was the genuine respect he now held for Albert.
Whatever the reason, the man had sincerely worked for his sake—even after Andy had openly insulted him.
Albert read the anxiety in Andy’s voice and gave a short laugh.
It was obvious the boy had the towering wall that was the marquis in mind.
“You’re worried about the marquis, I take it.”
“It’s embarrassing, but… yes.”
Andy let out a short sigh and nodded.
“My mother is an absolute figure to me. Perhaps even more so than you or Her Majesty.”
“Of course. Parents are the ones we live closest to.”
And the greater the parent, the closer the shadow they cast.
Albert showed that he understood at least that much.
“Yes. You have worked to connect me with the young lady and even arranged a promise. But if Mother does not give her permission…”
They had secured a promise in the Consort’s name; all that remained was to show results.
Once they cleared the wall that was the marquis, success would be all but assured.
A devoted attitude so unlike the usual young master would be more than enough to capture Sophia’s heart.
The marquis, the marquis…
Should I just fuck her into submission so she can’t move?
Albert entertained the absurd thought for a moment, then gave a small shake of his head.
He already had four women around him, and every one of them stood at the absolute peak of her nation.
If Albert neglected them and mixed bodies with another woman?
From Beatrix’s perspective it would be enough to turn her stomach.
The other three monarchs were more or less equals, so that could be excused—but a marquis was clearly beneath them.
She would not hesitate; she would simply take the woman’s head.
“Ah.”
Beatrix.
Albert’s eyes lit up as a good idea struck him.
Even if it was a little pathetic, if there was a fast and effective path, he had no choice but to take it.
“I wanted to resolve this with my own strength as much as possible… but it can’t be helped.”
“Pardon? What do you mean…?”
While Andy tilted his head in confusion, Albert rose from his seat.
“Would you wait just a moment? I’ll be right back.”
Where?
Albert left the reception room before Andy could even ask.
About thirty minutes later he returned with a single letter.
It was carefully sealed on fine stationery.
“Take this home and show it to the marquis.”
“Pardon? What is this letter…?”
“The best card I can play.”
When Albert pressed the letter into his hands, Andy looked completely dumbfounded.
Yet he could not refuse a letter given personally by the Consort, so he accepted it carefully and tucked it into his breast.
As Andy slowly rose, Albert gave a small smile.
“I hope things work out well. Before you leave, though, let me offer one piece of advice.”
“…Please speak.”
“I would prefer you not betray my goodwill.”
Please don’t make me kill you; just let it slide.
That wish was also contained in Albert’s warning.
He was not the type to kill over every little annoyance.
“I am the son of a noble house as well. I am not ignorant of grace and honor.”
Andy bowed deeply at the waist.
In the past he would have offered only a perfunctory deeper nod for form’s sake.
Now every gesture of greeting was filled with respect.
Albert saw Andy off as he left the palace and hoped the matter would resolve smoothly.
Nobles could not help weighing family standing, but a marriage born of affection was still preferable if possible.
Would a single letter really be enough?
Andy fretted the entire way home. The moment he met the marquis he held out the letter, adding that it came from the Consort.
The Consort’s will is not necessarily Her Majesty’s will.
He swallowed dryly as he watched Marquis Stove—his own mother—open the letter with a nonchalant expression.
Strange tension made his palms sweat.
“Hoo…”
A considerable time passed in silence.
The marquis lowered the hand holding the letter and let out a hollow laugh.
Even so, her eyes held surprise and something like pride.
“It seems you have managed to win over the two of them rather well.”
“Pardon? What do you mean…?”
“Enough. The matter of marriage is now yours to decide as you please.”
As you please.
That meant she was granting him freedom.
Andy’s eyes flew wide with disbelief.
“Is that… truly so?”
“Yes. It is no empty words, nor am I being sarcastic. I truly grant you freedom, so do as you will.”
When the marquis drove the nail home, Andy’s lips trembled.
He did not understand the reason, yet a sense of achievement at having succeeded filled his chest, along with the liberation of having broken through a solid wall.
“What… was written in the letter?”
What on earth could have changed the attitude of a marquis who had remained so stubborn?
Andy was desperately curious, yet—
“That is something you need not know. Leave.”
When the marquis dismissed him, he had no choice but to leave the room.
Even so, for someone forced to go, his steps were remarkably light.
He’ll contact that young lady at once.
Surely he wouldn’t be so vulgar as to visit her in person?
The marquis tilted her head but made no move to stop him.
She had granted freedom; going was also Andy’s freedom.
“Hmm.”
Marquis Stove—Aria—sat down and let out a short sigh.
Her gaze fell upon the letter she had newly unfolded.
I would find it rather bothersome if all the effort that man has put in came to nothing.
I will not be greatly disappointed should you fail to respect the young master’s wishes. However, should you choose to respect them, I am prepared to reevaluate you as someone who does not cling to outdated notions of status alone.
Consider this a recommendation.
— Beatrix
The letter that began with that single line had been written by Beatrix’s own hand.
It was closer to a command than a letter, yet she had insisted to the very end that it was merely a recommendation.
Even if Andy’s will was not respected she would not be greatly disappointed, but if it was, she was willing to reassess the marquis as someone unbound by old-fashioned status concerns.
This is no different from an order to do exactly that.
Earning a favorable evaluation from Beatrix was as difficult as plucking a star from the sky.
Unlike a marriage alliance between houses, there was no immediate concrete gain, yet as a noble of the kingdom one could obtain tremendous honor.
And that honor would in turn lead to practical benefits.
From Aria’s perspective, therefore, it could only be seen as a command.
“Hmm…”
Rustle.
Aria carefully folded the letter in her hand and slipped it back into the envelope whose one side had been torn open.
Receiving Beatrix’s recognition was welcome, yet she must not grow elated.
The black-haired tyrant thoroughly despised anyone who crossed the line or acted insolently.
That tendency had only grown stronger after her marriage to Albert.
Had Albert not reined her in, transparent blades would have flown in every direction.
This was enough.
Leaving a good impression while keeping to the proper bounds would greatly aid the preservation of the house.
So long as she did not forget today’s events, the family’s influence would not wane even after she was gone.
Aria felt grateful that her troublesome son had brought home such a fine card.
“He told you to leave a knife and jewelry by the bedside? In secret, at night?”
“Yes. Once a week, for a total of five times. That was his request.”
She had wondered what it was about when the woman said she was heading to the provinces on Albert’s errand.
Beatrix nodded as she listened to the report from the woman who had returned from outside.
“That sounds more like a threat than a gift.”
“There was likely some such intent. Yet he also enclosed a carefully written letter, so I believe it still counts as a gift.”
“Is that so? Then it is a gift.”
If my husband says it is a gift, then it is a gift.
Even if he presented the severed heads of her own parents, it would still be a gift.
Beatrix reached that conclusion with her half-mad way of thinking.
“And? What about that fellow?”
“He has become extremely well-behaved. I kept watch just in case, but it seems he has thoroughly mended his attitude.”
A blade gleaming at one’s bedside would do that to anyone.
And consistently, over the course of a month.
Even in Beatrix’s eyes it looked like a rather fine method—enough that she considered trying it herself someday.
“Understood. You may go.”
When Beatrix dismissed her, the shadow left the office without a sound, vanishing like smoke.
I had wondered whether he really needed to ask me for help with persuasion…
Some he won over with persuasion; others with carefully prepared threats.
Using that clear difference in temperature to instill fear and greatly reduce backtalk—how clever.
Beatrix recalled the reports that the young masters had begun to fear him and gave a small smile.
It had been bothersome, yet she was proud of Albert for achieving his goal, and the improvement in his reputation pleased her as well.
That “improvement” was fear rather than praise, but…
Better than having them charge in without fear.
It was not as though he was earning only fear, after all.
Beatrix set down the pen in her hand and called the maid waiting outside.
She needed the documents she had just finished organizing delivered to the relevant departments.
She stared blankly at the empty desk for a moment, then slowly rose.
It was always the case, yet today she was especially hungry for sex.