Herogasm: My SSS-Ranked Maids Can Do Everything!

--Chapter 42--

Title: Watched by the light and the shadows.

Elsewhere in the palace, under light that didn’t look natural, there was a table of gold and pale crystal situated like a shrine in a private chamber.

They were no nobles nor guild intermediaries. Neither was there merchants waiting to read the room and sell the result later.

There was only two sigils . The Crown and The Church.

This two banners stood as the sword and the scales of Eldratch and in this moment, they sat close enough to speak without performing for anyone else.

King Robert Blackwood occupied the high seat at the table. His presence moulded in prestige and vicious authority.

High Priestess Valeria stood to his right,her white veil neat and spotless with hands folded under the crust of some scrolls.

Her composure remained intact, her gold hued lips curled up.

Farther down the table, princess Isabella sat with spine straight, mouth tight with urgency, with her eyes that still carried the insult of a man she had once dismissed as sanctum waste.

"Deva Grayfort," the King spoke first in passing.

The name settled over the table with more weight than a newly risen E-rank should have earned.

Valeria answered first. "The Tower record is confirmed. The household in the palace remains under observation but reports say something or someone cloaked it."

"And the abominations?" Robert clicked his tongue.

"They are bound and publicly framed as maid-servants. For now, the capital is swallowing the image."

Isabella’s fingers curled against the table edge. "He should never have been allowed to walk back out of that place."

"And yet he did," King Robert said. Turning his cold gaze to the right.

Valerie didn’t flinch. A call had to be made at that point in time and she did what she believed was best.

After all, decisions like that were not the kind held in open court. Since no one there would question her.

Houses could be managed with favors, pressure, and distance.

Guilds could be steered with contracts. Merchants followed profit until fear cost more than coin.

The Crown and the Church shared something older and narrower than all of that.

There was an understanding. A private alignment soaked in taboo and blood.

That is why when this two centers agreed, the rest of the kingdom usually discovered the decision only after it had already begun moving.

And when they disagreed... Well.

"He is useful. And even while visible, he is still containable if handled correctly," she paused and arranged her veil.

"Pairing him with the Lightning Hero, Erling keeps him at arms length."

"At arms length?" Isabella repeated, bitterness slipping into the word. "You mean disposable."

Valeria did not deny her interpretation. After all... She wasn’t necessarily wrong.

King Robert’s gaze lowered to the gold-inlaid surface before him, no words escaped his lips but then the air changed.

It began as a subtle shift, like the room had gained a depth it should not have possessed. Candle flames shortened and leaned inward. Dust drifting through the upper light fell down as if been chased by something, as they dropped in clean lines toward the floor.

The room seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each passing heartbeat.

Isabella’s breath caught first. Her shoulders sank. Even as her spine compressed by a fraction she could not hide.

The weight settled across her thighs and chest as if invisible hands had been placed over the entire room and decided everyone inside it should remember their place and size.

Valeria’s reaction was worse because it was rarer.

Her fingers tightened inside her sleeves. The perfect line of her posture held for one heartbeat longer than it should have before failing by a degree.

For the first time in a while, the High Priestess looked less like a woman directing the room and more like one enduring it.

The King’s gravity ability did not slam. Only leaving relentless pressure.

"I could take him directly," Robert said. His words as calm as silk as if his magic wasn’t holding the room hostage.

"I can bring the boy closer to the throne like I did with Alistair," he paused. "I don’t want any of those treacherous wenches around the abnormalities."

Isabella’s voice came strained. "Then do it."

Valeria forced her answer through the heaviness.

"If the Crown marks him too openly, the houses will react. So will the Guild. Visibility cuts both ways your majesty."

The pressure deepened by half a measure. Just enough to make the point that her caution existed inside his patience, not above it.

Then King Robert exhaled. And the room eased up one step at a time.

First lungs recovered then sagging shoulders rose before the flames that crowned the surrounding candles straightened.

Valeria’s first full breath after the release was carefully hidden. Only the faint lag in her hands betrayed that she had been touched by the slightly enhanced gravity.

Robert leaned back on his throne. "There is no need to rush. Even if the normal process fails. The Last Order remains."

Both Valerie and Isabella nodded with reserved understanding.

There was no need for words. The mere statement spoke for itself. But they both hoped secretly it never got to that point.

Isabella looked away first, jaw locked. Valeria lowered her head by a fraction, already returning to making plans, now that her lungs were her own again.

King Robert rested both legs on the table of light and gold.

"Watch him. Use him if he remains useful. Do not make him larger than he has earned."

He paused and looked at two of the most powerful women in the realm.

"I don’t require your presence any longer."

And with that, Valerie and Isabella left. No one questions asked. The Crown had spoken but Valerie held an Ace non the less.

***

Back at the manor, the dark was quieter than the rest of the palace and far less honest.

Takeshi slept on his back in the master bedroom, one arm resting over the blanket.

His breathing was steady with the deep heaviness of a man who had trained until thought finally gave out.

The new coat he bought hung near the wall. His blade rested within reach on a bedside cupboard.

The room carried the faint scent of soap, old wood, and the cool night air that slipped through the edges of the windows.

A pair of crimson eyes watched him from the shadows.

At first, there was only that. Two points of color in the darkness, unblinking and fixed on the rise and fall of his chest.

The gaze was steadfast and predatory as if it only knew the end of all things. Then the shadows loosened.

And Lana stepped into view from beside the bed. Her steps left no trace whatsoever.

The veil at her hair framed her face in soft black, while the crimson of her eyes pierced through them like a pair of bloody moons.

She looked down at Takeshi with the patience of someone who had lived long enough to understand that truth lived even in silence.

She had to admit, he looked different like this. He wasn’t the record-breaking hero standing before the Tower.

Not the man who spoke with irritating confidence in front of nobles, adventurers and even creatures far beyond his comprehension.

He was just a sleeping human. Young and short-lived.

And, somehow, already troublesome enough to have placed himself at the center of her attention.

’Strange’ Lana’s gaze lingered on him.

In all the years before the seal, she had taken blood, bargains, company, and fear as a price but never had she truly served anyone or anything.

Service was a word vermins used when they wanted their submission to sound elegant.

She was Lana De Reyes. Daughter of the Eternal Night. Queen of the shadows.

Her life had been centered around being desired, hated, consulted, and even hunted.

But never had sheknelt in the deeper sense.

And yet here she was.

A human slept in front of her. A man with no proper court, no clean lineage in this world, and a strange ability to make people around him move according to his decisions.

He had ordered her. Relied on her. And even noticed her hunger without theatrics.

And somehow, without even seeming to realize it, he had made himself important to her.

Lana’s lips curved faintly. ’Serve him?’

The thought came unwanted. And was rejected it almost as soon as it formed.

’No.’

That was too large a word for a mortal span. Sure he was interesting and nothing like anything she had seen even across worlds.

But he was still just a human...

She would watch this short life and see how far it could climb before the kingdom, the Church, or his own appetite broke it apart.

Anything more than that was sentimental noise.

Her gaze drifted toward his throat. The pulse beneath his skin was slow and steady.

For an instant, the old hunger stirred even as her pupils narrowed slightly.

She had tasted blood from countless people across her long existence. It had never been difficult to separate hunger from everything else.

This was different only because she was beginning to notice other things as well.

The way he carried himself. The confidence that had appeared so quickly in such an unfamiliar world.

The way the broken Angel looked at him and how the little demoness openly enjoyed being around him.

She had watched all of it. Perhaps that was why her attention lingered now.

Perhaps...

She looked away from his throat.

"Not yet," she whispered.

The words were too soft for a sleeping man to hear. They were meant for herself.

Lana stepped backward.

The shadows gathered around her feet, swallowing the edges of her figure.

For a moment, her crimson eyes remained visible in the darkness. Then they vanished as well.

Takeshi slept on, unaware that above him the throne had already weighed his name, while beside his bed a queen of night had almost considered belonging to him completely before refusing the thought.

For now...

<End of Chapter>

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