HOUSE OF ASTAROT

Morning had already broken by the time Diaval finished his contemplations.

The golden light of dawn seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow across his room.

The realization that he had been lost in thought for hours jolted him into action.

He needed to embrace this new life, play the part that fate had handed him.

"I guess this is my reality now," he muttered to himself, stripping off his clothes and heading toward the luxurious bathroom adjoining his room.

The bathroom was an opulent affair, with marble floors and walls, a large claw-foot bathtub, and a separate shower stall with intricate brass fixtures.

As he stood under the shower, the hot water cascading over his muscular body, he continued to think aloud.

"Alright, Diaval. You're in a medieval world. You're the son of a powerful house. Just go with it. Learn what you can, keep your head down, and maybe—just maybe—you'll find a way back."

After a thorough scrub, Diaval stepped out of the shower and reached for a fluffy towel.

He dried himself off and was about to grab his clothes when a soft knock echoed through the room.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door to find Mira standing there, her blue hair framing her blushing face.

"Good morning, Young Master," Mira greeted, bowing slightly.

"I've brought your clothes for the day."

Diaval blinked in surprise. "Uh, thank you, Mira."

"If it pleases you, I can assist you in dressing," she offered, her eyes avoiding his as she spoke.

Diaval found the idea strange, but he remembered that such practices were normal for masters and maids in medieval times.

"Alright, sure. Thank you, Mira."

He stepped back, allowing her into the room.

Mira moved with practiced grace, laying out his clothes on the bed.

As she helped him into his undergarments and trousers, her hands trembled slightly, her fingers brushing against his skin.

She blushed furiously, her thoughts a whirlwind.

'His body is so... perfect,' Mira thought to herself, biting her lip to stifle her reaction.

Her hands traced the contours of his well-defined muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

'How can someone look like this? It's almost unreal.'

As she helped him into his shirt, her eyes occasionally darted downward, widening at the sight of the impressive bulge beneath the towel.

'It's so big... and it's not even erect,' she thought, feeling her face grow hotter.

'I feel sorry for any woman—or women—who will have to take that into their wombs.'

Diaval, oblivious to Mira's inner turmoil, thanked her as she finished adjusting his clothes.

"Thank you, Mira. I appreciate your help."

"It's my duty, Young Master," she replied softly, her cheeks still flushed.

Mira led Diaval through the grand hallways of the mansion, which were adorned with intricate tapestries, polished wooden furniture, and expensive-looking vases and sculptures.

The walls were lined with portraits of stern-looking ancestors, their eyes seeming to follow them as they walked.

Diaval couldn't help but admire the architecture.

The high ceilings, the marble floors, the crystal chandeliers—it all spoke of immense wealth and power.

As they passed through one hallway, his eyes wandered to Mira's swaying hips, the fabric of her maid's uniform clinging to her curves in a most enticing manner.

'Gods, her ass is mesmerizing,' he thought, quickly looking away before he got caught staring.

Finally, they arrived at the dining room, a grand space with a long table set for breakfast.

The aroma of freshly baked bread, sizzling bacon, and brewed coffee filled the air, making Diaval's stomach growl.

"Thank you, Mira," Diaval said, taking his seat.

"You've been very helpful."

"It's an honor to serve you, Young Master," Mira replied, bowing before she left the room.

Diaval looked around the long table, noting that it was still empty.

Maids moved in and out, each leaving plates filled with food that he never thought he would get the opportunity to experience.

The spread was lavish, with a variety of meats, fruits, and pastries arranged in a tantalizing display.

"Mira, where are the others?" he asked the blue-haired maid, who was standing nearby.

"They'll be here soon, don't worry," Mira responded quickly, as if she always had the answers to everything.

"I see..." Diaval said, taking a seat at the table. He didn't really think about it; his brain just randomly picked a seat, and he sat down.

Not wanting to start eating alone, Diaval asked Mira to bring him any book of her liking to pass the time.

As he watched the maids and butlers coming in and out, he marveled at their beauty.

Each woman had horns on their heads—some had two like Mira, others had a single horn on their forehead, and some had none at all.

Yet, these variations didn't detract from their beauty. In fact, it seemed to enhance their allure, making each one unique.

"They can't match Mira's beauty, in my opinion," Diaval murmured, closing his eyes and folding his arms.

Mira had left a permanent impression on him. Her beauty was otherworldly, far surpassing the women from his past life.

Mira returned with a book, and Diaval looked at the cover before opening it.

The words and language were a contrast to what he knew in his original world, yet he understood every single letter as if it was embedded in his mind.

Just as he began reading, there was a commotion.

The maids aligned themselves on each side of the table, and Diaval looked up, curious.

A group of people entered, and he quickly surmised that they must be the rest of the family.

Leading them was a large man with long black hair, four black dragon horns, blue eyes, and sclera that were normally white but were black.

Fear slowly crept into him; before him stood a being of dragon king status—the master of House Astarot.

Diaval thought of standing up, but what for? He was his son, after all.

Valtor, his father, greeted him as a white-haired butler took off his royal coat, and Valtor sat down.

He noticed Diaval sitting with a book and raised an eyebrow.

"Ravan, you're early today. Reading a book at that?" Valtor asked, his voice deep and authoritative.

"Good morning, Father," Diaval replied, putting the book down.

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I decided to stay up and read."

"Couldn't sleep?" Valtor repeated, studying his son.

"That's unusual for you. Are you feeling unwell?"

"No, I'm fine. Just had a restless night, that's all," Diaval said, forcing a smile.

There was no way he would say that he was a bum who had awakened in the body of his son. Only an idiot would do that.

Jade, Diaval's mother, arrived and took her seat next to Valtor after giving his husband a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, my dear," she greeted Diaval warmly, smiling at Mira, who stood behind Diaval.

Mira blushed furiously, almost jolting but managing to keep her composure in front of the House Master.

"Good morning mother,"Diaval said.

'Why does she keep thinking Mira and I slept together last night,'Diaval thought and mused.

Two more males entered the room, each looking similar to Diaval but with different hair colors.

One had dark brown hair and two black horns, while the other had silver hair and no horns at all.

Diaval recognized them as his brothers from the descriptions in the novel: Lukan and Cedric, children from Valtor's other two wives.

They took their seats without saying a word.

Next, the other wives of Valtor arrived and sat on the other side of him.

The first, Lady Seraphina Astarot, had blonde hair with two brown horns that curved and a regal bearing. She wore a deep crimson gown that accentuated her curvaceous figure.

The second, Lady Isolde Astarot, had flowing silver hair and wore a shimmering blue dress that highlighted her slender, elegant frame.

'She looks human rather than draconic,'Diaval thought at the fact that dragons and humans could mate.

Finally, another male with blonde hair, two black dragon horns, and blue eyes with a dark sclera like Valtor's entered the room.

Diaval nearly jumped out of his seat when he realized who it was.

'That's... him,' Diaval thought, his mind racing back to the novel.

The blonde man was none other than Adrian, the main character who would later become a villain.

Adrian's presence here, sitting calmly at the table, seemed surreal. He had an aura of quiet confidence and power that was hard to ignore.

"Good morning, everyone," Adrian greeted as he took his seat, his gaze briefly meeting Diaval's.

Diaval tried to maintain his composure, his mind swirling with thoughts.

'Adrian... The one who will become a villain and bring about so many changes. How do I fit into this story? And how do I avoid becoming collateral damage?'

The table was now full, and the family began to settle in for breakfast.

Diaval's heart pounded as he tried to process everything.

He was in a new world, surrounded by powerful individuals from a story he barely remembered.

Yet, he knew he had to navigate this world carefully if he wanted to survive and, perhaps, find a way back to his own reality.

///NEXT CHAPTER: SCREW THE THRONE