The Duke Of The Mount Deer の小説・ストーリー

The duke was entering the room, and Blackthorne watched in irritation as the ladies in the ballroom granted him with admiring glance while the gentlemen gave him a courtly welcome. The Duke of Vermont was a cocky bastard, yet the entire ton seemed to justify his cockiness. They placed him on a pedestal as a role model. A man with grand principles and incredible moral standards. The gentlemen spoke highly of him. The older ladies offered their daughters to him any chance they had while they dragged their girls away the second a rakehell like himself came into sight. Those poor ladies never knew that their paragon of virtue was no better than him, Lothario of London. The utmost difference was;

The Old Duke was still very healthy… and there was no need for any handover of power at this time. “I want to go to the northern mountains and try to settle the matter between us and the barbarians,” said the Old Duke. Liam just narrowed his eyes, not understanding the point. “And… why do you want to make me Duke?” Old Duke shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know if I could come back from there unscathed."

This way, he didn't need to deal with this familiar 'intruder' any longer! Duke Malcom looked at the documents in his hands. He had prepared a large amount of wedding gifts for Melissa. However, he still found it lacking and went through the documents one more time to check the list again. Oh, that's right. The ranch at the countryside. Melissa loves horses, she would love this gift. Duke Malcom smiled but the next moment, he frowned slightly. 'I still need to speak to the brat about this.'

The duke wasn’t in his best composure during the execution, but Sushmita didn’t assume the worst of him just from that one day. From the unflattering articles that mushroomed about his past when he went public with Delilah, Greg Claw was presented to be ruthless and temperamental, dangerous and unreliable. The number of such articles didn’t dwindle even when the king and queen were asked to comment. Their joint reply was brief, stating that the duke’s misdeeds may have left a mark, but the fact that His Grace had been instrumental in eradicating threats in recent years had left an equal, if not more, impactful legacy.

In any case, it was clear that ladies were rarely welcomed in this space—if they were even allowed in the first place. When I entered the room, the sound of my shoes clicking on the floor caught his attention. He immediately stood up from his chair and examined me closely, placing his thumb and forefinger under his chin in a thoughtful gesture. I could see how Xander had passed as his son and heir. Although he didn’t resemble his father, Duke Kestrel had the exact imposing figure. He towered over me with thick, powerful arms and legs and a large chest. His uniform was adorned with numerous military medals, a testament to his service to the kingdom and his high rank under King Osprey.

At the sofa directly facing my desk, sat the Duke of Leviathan, holding a cup of tea as he laughed another round. He was so big and bulky that he was occupying the whole sofa itself. Adjacent to him was a solo sofa chair, there sat Drew who seemed to be sharing some things with the Duke and laughed equally. Once my step echoed through the room, only then did they stop laughing and looked at my direction. “Good morning, Duke Ruther of Leviathan. And to my cousin.” I greeted with formality and confidence as I bowed my head to the Duke of Leviathan. Aside from the fact that he was a lot older than me, his dukedom was also a lot older than mine so, respect is a must.

He raised a single, heavy boot and kicked the mahogany door clean off its iron hinges, sending the massive slab of wood crashing across the polished parquet floor of the solar. Inside, the air smelled of expensive, imported pipe tobacco and aged cherry wine. Duke Charles of the Southern Marches stood by the wide arched windows, his velvet robes of deep emerald green rustling as he spun around to face the intrusion. He was a man in his late fifties, his silver hair neatly coiffed and his fingers heavy with gold signet rings, but his aristocratic composure was utterly shattered. In his right hand, he held a half-burned sheet of parchment—a letter he had been frantically trying to destroy in th

Kaelus didn't even blink at the bloody display unfolding right in front of him. "Raipherze! I—I heard the Duke talking to the head butler!" the young man who leaked the information blurted out, shivering in pure terror as he stared at his comrade's mangled face. "You just said Lancaster." "It—it was just a stopover, Your Grace! The Duke owns a massive estate in Raipherze. Back when he proposed to the lady—" "Enough," Kaelus cut him off sharply. His chest heaved with a quiet fury, entirely unwilling to hear a single word about his woman's past with another man.

“To have garnered his attention… be cautious. Be grateful.” He never saw it coming. Built on careful steps, every move stayed tight. Thankfulness didn’t enter the picture - never once crossed his mind. Midday brought the arrival of the Duke's carriage. Sleek and black, it carried no insignia yet felt imposing just standing there. When they helped me climb in, my eyes drifted toward him - he sat high on a large, shifting black horse close by, talking quietly with Captain Alex Starwood. Dressed once more for riding, clad in deep leather and gleaming footwear, he wore authority like a second skin. Not once did he turn his gaze in my direction. Locked in place like freight, I waited. Romance had

One dealing with his mouth, one kissing on his chest, and defined abs and Lupa… Oh, she had a better idea of making Minsi die of pain today. She climbed on top of him and sat on his erect manhood. She then began to move up and down, fucking her mate like a hoe that she was. On the other hand, Duke was groaning and grunting in satisfaction as all this was happening. Minsi bet he was having the time of his life with his dream woman while she was slowly dying from watching him cheat on her right before her eyes.