Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate

Dominic's gaze sharpened. "Only Elysia?"

Damien nodded without hesitation.

"Yes."

There was a pause.

Owen's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't speak. Damien could feel the unspoken disapproval radiating from him. It wasn't just about the logistics—it was about who Elysia was.

Elysia wasn't just some random maid.

She was a combat maid. An Awakened warrior. One of the strongest assets in the Elford household, particularly in the early stages of a conflict.

And most importantly?

She was his.

Unlike Owen, who ultimately reported to Dominic as the family's head butler, Elysia belonged to Damien alone.

She had been trained by his mother's family—one of the few connections he had to his mother's lineage, and therefore, someone that could not be easily taken from him. No matter what she personally thought of him before, her loyalty was to him first and foremost.

She, like Owen, may have once looked down on the old Damien. May have thought him a waste of potential, an unworthy heir, a mere disappointment.

But that didn't matter.

Because unlike Owen, she would never report to Dominic over him.

And that made all the difference.

Dominic's fingers tapped lightly against the desk, his sharp gray eyes assessing him.

Dominic exhaled slowly, fingers pressing together as he studied his son.

Elysia alone was strong enough to fend off most threats. That much was undeniable. Her skills as an Awakened combat maid placed her leagues above ordinary guards, and she was trained not just in combat but in the protection of her master. In many ways, she was a walking fortress—one perfectly capable of eliminating threats before they ever reached Damien.

But still.

"You will have guards stationed outside the villa," Dominic said, his tone firm. "They will not enter, but they will remain stationed at all times."

Damien shrugged, unconcerned. "As long as they don't step inside, I have no complaints."

Owen's disapproval still hung in the air, but he remained silent. Even he couldn't argue against Elysia's strength.

Seeing Damien's easy agreement, Dominic sighed. A long, slow exhale of something close to resignation.

Then, after a brief pause, he spoke again.

"Will you tell your mother about this?"

Damien's smirk didn't fade, but there was a slight shift in his posture, an almost imperceptible flicker of thought behind his eyes.

"For the time being," he said smoothly, "I will just inform her that I will be living in Blackthorne Villa—since it's closer to the academy."

Dominic exhaled again, rubbing his temple. "You do know this is dangerous, right? Vivienne might not agree."

Damien chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "Father, if you back me up, she'll agree."

Dominic's lips pressed into a thin line, and for the first time since the conversation began, there was a hesitation in his otherwise controlled expression.

"…Right?" Damien prompted, his grin widening slightly.

Before Dominic could answer—

Knock. Knock.

The sharp sound of knuckles against the heavy wooden doors broke through the air.

A familiar voice followed.

"Dominic?"

The cool, elegant tone carried a quiet authority, refined yet firm.

Damien's smirk widened further.

His mother.

The heavy wooden doors swung open, and in stepped Vivienne Elford.

She moved with the kind of effortless grace that only someone of noble blood could possess, her long, golden hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. Dressed in a fitted black gown with subtle silver embroidery, she exuded both elegance and quiet authority.

But the moment her striking green eyes landed on Damien, her poised expression softened.

"Oh?" she murmured, her lips curling into a small smile. "Damien?"

She stepped further into the room, her gaze lingering on him with something close to genuine warmth.

But then—

Her eyes flicked toward Dominic, and the warmth vanished.

Instantly, her posture straightened, and her expression turned sharp.

Her violet eyes narrowed.

"What are you two talking about?" she asked, her voice smooth but carrying a familiar edge. Then, without missing a beat, she added—

"Are you scolding him again?"

Dominic let out a long, slow sigh, pressing his fingers against his temple as if warding off an incoming headache.

"Why," he muttered, "is that the first thing that comes to your mind?"

Vivienne shrugged, crossing her arms as she leaned slightly against the doorframe.

"Because," she said lightly, "I've seen this scene enough times."

And she wasn't wrong.

Damien chuckled inwardly.

The old Damien had been called to this study countless times, always standing where he was now—shoulders tense, expression filled with either nervousness or frustration—as Dominic tore into him over his failures.

His lack of discipline.

His lack of ambition.

His wasted potential.

Vivienne had witnessed it too many times. Far too many times.

So it was only natural that she assumed this was just another one of those moments.

Except—

This time was different.

Dominic exhaled, his fingers pressing against the polished wood of his desk. "It wasn't much," he muttered. "We were talking about his engagement."

Vivienne's expression shifted. The teasing glint in her eyes faded as something sharper, more serious, took its place.

"You said you would contact Victor Everwyn," she said, tilting her head. "Did you?"

They had already discussed this over dinner—about breaking the engagement between Damien and Celia Everwyn. It had been decided, but now she wanted to hear what had actually happened.

Dominic gave a slow nod. "I did. As expected, they wanted answers. I told them the engagement was nullified, and naturally, they were displeased."

Vivienne hummed, but her expression remained unreadable. "And?"

"And," Dominic continued, "they will try to salvage what they can, but it's over. The Everwyns won't let go easily, but they no longer hold leverage over us."

A brief silence followed before Vivienne exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "That family is always scheming."

"They wouldn't be nobles if they weren't," Dominic muttered dryly.

But before the conversation could linger, Dominic shifted the focus. His sharp gray eyes flicked toward Damien, and his tone turned heavier.

"That's not all we discussed."

Vivienne arched a brow. "Oh?"

Dominic exhaled again, as if he could barely believe what he was about to say. "Your son has requested to live in Blackthorne Villa."

Silence.

Vivienne blinked once.

Then, slowly, her eyes widened.

Her gaze snapped toward Damien. "Is this true?"

Damien smiled slightly. "Indeed, Mother. It was my request."

She studied him, searching his expression, as if trying to understand.

"…Why?"

Damien met her gaze without hesitation.

"I wish to stay away from my old habits for a little while."

Vivienne's expression softened just slightly, but the surprise in her eyes did not fade.

Damien could see the thoughts running through her mind.

The old him? Asking to live away from the main house? Away from comfort? Away from the easy life he had so thoroughly indulged in?

It was unexpected.

But that was the whole point.

Vivienne leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "And this was your decision?"

"Entirely," Damien said smoothly. "I believe it will be… beneficial."

Vivienne's gaze flickered toward Dominic for a moment, then back to Damien.

Finally, she let out a quiet sigh.

"You really have changed."

Before Damien could react, Vivienne stepped forward and pulled him into a warm embrace.

"My son is finally growing up," she murmured, her voice filled with something rare—genuine relief.