The Duke of Hermont’s Male Mistress
Chapter 2
It happened last night. Vitor had been on his way to the Clareville villa he had received as a reward for his victory.
With its cool breezes and lush greenery, Clareville was a renowned summer retreat frequented by the nobility of Rostria.
He had only dropped in to show his face after hearing that some noble acquaintances had rented out the entire second floor of a tavern for several months and turned it into a game room.
“Straight.”
The moment Vitor laid down his cards, disappointed groans erupted from around the table.
“Did you do nothing but play poker aboard that ship? You never let us win, not even once!”
“Why play a game just to throw it? Boring. I’m heading out, so don’t stay up too late.”
“Whoa, whoa. Where does the hero of the Battle of Puraren think he’s going? We can’t just let the Admiral of the Storm slip away like this!”
Alan slung an arm around Vitor’s shoulders and pulled him back. Vitor’s face twisted into an unamused grimace at the cringe-inducing title.
“You only just got here. Today’s celebration is for your victory—it hardly works without the guest of honor.”
“A convenient excuse coming from guys who’ve been holing up here since days before I even arrived in Clareville.”
“Besides, if you go to your villa, your grandmother will immediately start hounding you about marriage. You’ll wish you stayed here.”
“…….”
Annoyingly enough, Alan was right. In truth, Vitor wasn’t looking forward to this leave at all.
“Haah…….”
“I knew it would come to this. Didn’t I tell you that you wouldn’t be able to hold out forever?”
Watching Vitor let out a faint sigh, the young nobles playing poker chimed in with snickers.
“Remember the Imperial Palace banquet the year before last? That was quite a sight. Lady Delma and Lady Fline grabbing each other by the hair and fighting.”
“And then they found out neither of them was even close to being Vitor’s lover and demanded to know if he’d been playing them.”
Just recalling that day made Vitor’s head throb.
His scandalous private life was already well-known. So the fact that two women had made a scene over him hadn’t been an issue in itself.
The real problem was that afterward, women supposedly embroiled in scandals with him came forward left and right, confessing that nothing had ever happened between them either.
Because of that, Vitor Carl Hermont’s reputation as the ‘Libertine of Rostria’ cracked completely, revealing that he had deliberately played the rake just to evade a flood of marriage proposals.
Fortunately, he had managed to flee into the military by participating in the mopping-up operation at Mandrang Bay, but now that he had returned as the hero of the Battle of Puraren…
Vitor’s worth had skyrocketed even higher than before.
This time, his grandmother, Leonora Hermont, would undoubtedly drag him to the wedding altar by force.
“I don’t think an ordinary scandal will cut it this time. Why not create an actual one, Vitor?”
Alan offered casually to the troubled Vitor.
“An actual one?”
“Yeah. Take an official mistress. Preferably a lowborn woman whose status will drag your social reputation straight into the gutter.”
A lowborn mistress… Well, the method wasn’t bad. However.
“If her status is lowly, she’d need to be captivating enough to make it believable. Where am I going to find a woman like that right now in the middle of nowhere?”
Time was running out. Multiple matchmaking meetings were already scheduled for next week.
Having already been caught once, anything less than an airtight performance would arouse suspicion immediately.
“Which is why I called you here. The server here is quite something.”
Alan patted Vitor’s shoulder with a wink. What kind of scheme was this now?
Just then, the door swung open.
“You lose every single time, so why call for me again?”
A woman entered, grumbling under her breath.
She had long, wavy silver hair and wore a linen blouse, over which a tight, embroidered wine-colored bodice hugged her figure closely.
With every step, her long violet skirt swayed like ripples on water. Beneath the slight upturn at the corners of her eyes, mysterious violet irises gleamed enchantingly.
She was an uncommon beauty with striking, glamorous features.
“I’m busy, so since you called me, you’re paying double, right?”
Leaning her elbows on the table, she bent forward.
Her deeply cut neckline fully revealed the sensuous curves below her smooth collarbones.
Yet something was off. These men, who would normally be busy whistling and ogling a woman’s body, were radiating a completely different kind of fervor.
“Natalie! That last time was a fluke. I’m not holding back today, so prepare yourself!”
“I’m first! You’ve already won a ton. If I win, you’re coughing up everything you made today, right?”
The men practically drooled at the leather pouch tied to Natalie’s waist.
Having gorged itself on tips from the patrons, the pouch was so stuffed it looked ready to burst.
“Win first, then you can drool over it. If you beat me, it’s all yours.”
“Quite the confidence! But it won’t be easy today!”
The atmosphere in the room heated up in an instant.
‘Don’t tell me they’ve been betting on arm wrestling with that woman and losing?’
It made no sense. No matter how sheltered these young lords were, never exercising a muscle beyond breathing, they were men and that server was a woman.
Vitor’s eyes narrowed. Furthermore, while her skin looked healthy, her frame was slender, with a tiny waist and prominent collarbones.
Then a hypothesis occurred to him.
‘Ah, are they letting her win on purpose? Since they only need to win the final round anyway?’
Even so, it looked just as pathetic.
Both the fools challenging a woman to an arm-wrestling match and the woman swaggering about, oblivious to the fact that they were throwing the matches.
However.
Thud.
Thud.
Slam!
“Damn it! What the hell does a woman eat to get monstrous strength like this?!”
“Aargh! Go easy, Natalie! I yield, I yield! You’re going to leave a bruise!”
Three men had their wrists pinned in rapid succession. Alan made a fuss, blowing frantically on the back of his hand where it had slammed against the table.
They hadn’t been letting her win. Veins had bulged in their foreheads as they trembled with exertion before succumbing to genuine defeat.
As if expecting nothing less, Natalie pulled out another pouch from her pocket. Wearing a satisfied smile, she stowed away the pouch now bulging with the losers’ gold coins.
“Thank you as always. I shall never forget the grace you noble lords have bestowed upon a struggling commoner. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy.”
“Natalie! Wait!”
It was the moment she offered a mockingly polite curtsy and turned to leave.
Alan called her to a halt.
“The star of today’s show hasn’t even stepped up yet! It really won’t be easy this time, I guarantee it!”
With that, he shoved Vitor forward. Forced awkwardly in front of the woman, Vitor snapped in disbelief.
“You want me to arm-wrestle that woman?”
“She’s no ordinary woman! Didn’t you just see us lose?”
“Forget it, I’m not doing it. Keep the idiot games to yourselves.”
“Vitor! Just once! You love bets, don’t you?! If you win, that entire pile of cash is yours!”
Pretending to help by claiming there was a decent woman here—so this was his real angle all along. He had just been thoroughly humiliated after losing to a woman.
There was a limit to playing the clown.
“What good is money won by flexing strength against a woman? Even winning is humiliating.”
He had no desire to join such a farce. It was clearly a lose-lose situation—unpleasant if he won, humiliating if he lost.
“No confidence?”
Natalie, who had been quietly listening to their exchange, spoke up.
“Do you really think it’s a lack of confidence?”
Vitor’s voice edged with sharp irritation.
“If not, fine. But men trying to chicken out always make excuses like that. Not that I doubt your word, sir. Just saying, is all.”
Vitor’s brow twitched.
“You think I am scared of you?”
The woman shrugged. Her vivid violet eyes still overflowed with confidence.
Ha. Vitor swept back his handsome platinum-blond hair.
He had to admit, she had a talent for provoking a man’s competitive spirit. That was undoubtedly how she kept raking in the pot.
“Fine. Let’s do it. If you can even last ten seconds, I’ll count it as your win.”
Though he saw right through her trick, Vitor accepted the challenge. Normally, he would have either laughed off a casual arm-wrestling match with a woman or stood his ground until the end.
Strangely, his nerves were on edge. Did he, too, possess the foolish male instinct to get fired up over such a petty contest?
Having no way of knowing Vitor’s conflicted thoughts, Natalie spoke with a slight lilt in her voice.
“If you’re that confident, why not raise the stakes? How about quadruple?”
“If you wish.”
“Woah! We’re finally getting our revenge today!”
“Natalie, you’ve picked the wrong opponent this time!”
The young lords cheered in excitement. The spectators looked far more thrilled than the actual contenders.
They were already acting as though Vitor had clinched victory.
“Do you even know who he is? Undefeated in a hundred battles! Hero of the Empire! The Admiral of the Sto—!”
“Shut up. Just referee the match properly.”
Vitor silenced Alan’s noisy mouth and rolled up his sleeves. Solid forearms were revealed—muscles developed to a degree that clearly put the other young lords to shame at a glance.
Natalie glanced briefly at his arm before clasping his hand, looking as if it didn’t matter who her opponent was.
“Reeeady, go!”
The Duke of Hermont’s Male Mistress
