Baron Lukas Instaf fell into his office chair with an audible groan.
Yes.
His office.
He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. To think, he would inherit the barony at a mere twenty years of age. It was quite a bit of pressure, he had to admit.
He found himself looking back at the imposing portrait hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. His father's picture was of a grim, sullen man with dark hair and a face of hard, disapproving lines.
Lukas had inherited the man's hair, if not his rough features. He was slimmer than his stocky father. Many said handsomer, and certainly younger. He flexed his hands on the arms of the chair uneasily and scanned the study. He didn't much care for the decor. But that had always been his problem, as his father had frequently berated him. He was indecisive. Weak.
Well, Lukas had best start getting decisive. For this was his home now.
Well, mostly.
The door swung open with a bang. "Good morning master!"
He sat up sharply as a familiar figure bounced into the room. Clarissa, the family's maid of two years, was a forceful personality in the house. She filled every room she stepped foot in with her presence and somewhat unconventional character. Lukas had no idea why his father had kept the boisterous redhead.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had a good idea. Two of them, actually. Clarissa was bustier than some holstaurs. In fact, there were rumours that she was one of those bovine maidens, but had filed down her horns. Lukas wasn't sure how much he believed that, but he did know that she did attend that new cow goddess church that was making waves. And she was unbelievably brash and forceful for a servant. Not to mention teasing. He'd often been at the receiving end of her attentions, leaving him flustered and annoyed.
And she was wearing scent again, he noticed with a sigh. Honestly, it seemed like every day she wore a new kind of perfume. The current one was jasmine, and was shockingly potent. Well, at least it was better than the rosemary she used to wear around his father. In fact, it was almost... pleasant.
"Clarissa!" he sighed, forcing himself not to stare at the maid's impressive bust. "You-"
"Here with your tea!" she said, sliding the tray into place before him with a wink of her long lashes. "Starting off the morning well, as the big, strong baron should!"
"Clarissa, really. You can't just-"
"Not to worry, my baron! There's plenty of cream. I know how much you like it," she added, picking up a pitcher and pouring a generous helping into his cup. "And you'll need it today! Because we have quite a bit of work to do."
In the midst of tidying his papers, Lukas paused. "We do?"
"Of course, my lord! Now that you are baron, we must decide on your betrothed."
"M-my what!"
"And I have them right here!" Clarissa chimed, lifting a folder out from some hidden recess of her scandalously short skirt (it had to be custom. No other maid in the estate had such a revealingly tight uniform). "Shall we take a look, my baron?"
"Wh... Hold on now, I can't just-"
"My baron!" Clarissa cried in mock horror. "Surely you realize the importance in choosing your bride? The barony cannot be left without a mistress. Not only for the hard work running the estate, but also the vital work of carrying on the family line! Which means we must choose the most ample, breedable, lovely wife for you."
"B-breedable? Clarissa! That is-"
"Not to worry, my baron. I'm sure you can manage that. Why, any woman would consider herself lucky to be bent over your table as you thrust home, stuffing her full of your droit de seigneur."
Lukas's face burned as it always did whenever Clarissa got going like this. Not to say she was wrong, unfortunately. She was absolutely right. He did need to get married, but it still seemed so early to be shopping for a bride. "Clarissa, really. I-"
"Early to start, my baron! We must be. Once word gets out that Baron Instaf is not only single, but such an adorable, impressive, handsome piece of stud meat, why, we'll be besieged by eligible young ladies looking to have you mount them like a prized mare! And whichever does will be lucky to have you. Take my word for it!"
"Clarissa! This is... that sort of talk is hardly-"
"You're so right, my baron. Here I am, chattering away, and you haven't even gotten a chance to look at the choices! Let's take a look at the candidates, shall we?"
Lukas sighed, finally giving up. It was near impossible to stop Clarissa once she set her mind to something, though by gods he would soon. He'd have to talk to the head butler about firing her. She treated him far too casually. But for now, he supposed the best thing was just to get this business with the portraits over with.
"Fine," he said. "Let's take a look..."
"How wise, my dear baron," Clarissa chirped merrily as she opened the folder to the first page, propping it up just underneath her immense bosom.
Lukas cleared his throat, forcing himself to look at the portrait and not the impressive pair of breasts just above it. "And this is..."
"Mirria Mable. Daughter of a lord in the southern country. Quite the pick specimen. An attractive if air headed young thing. Pretty, but not terribly bright. And not nearly as endowed as me, hm?"
"Clarissa! That's hardly appropriate," Lukas said, though he had to admit it was true, and his eyes did quickly steal a glance at Clarissa's chest as if just to make sure of that. Gods, the room felt suffocating in the perfume she wore. He should open a window, though the scent wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was a bit... soothing.
Clarissa giggled. "Very true, my baron. We cannot judge a woman less blessed than myself in that respect. Some of us were merely born with a generous bosom. Perfect to lay one's head upon."
Lukas rolled his eyes, but felt his cheeks warm at the thought. "I ah... Well, what about the others?"
