The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 1

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The slave is too beautiful!
Prologue.
Having everything in one’s grasp should have felt fulfilling, but somehow it felt strangely hollow.
Why was that? Eloïse couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something important.
The Noble Daughter who held an empire beneath her feet stood on the Imperial Palace terrace with an oddly bored expression.
“My lady.”
At the soft sound of the man’s voice, Eloïse’s head turned naturally toward it.
Lucian, dressed in fine ceremonial robes with a thick mantle draped over them, looked every inch a born emperor. Though no matter how splendid his garments, they seemed humble compared to his beauty.
Brilliant golden hair, delicate features, deep eyes and a high-bridged nose. Tall, with broad shoulders and a lean frame that emanated an untouchable aura.
No sculpture, no painting could ever be more perfect than Lucian.
“You kept me waiting long enough, my lady.”
As Lucian, freshly crowned emperor, approached slowly, a smile bloomed across Eloïse’s usually expressionless face.
My lady. How long had it been since she’d heard that title?
Eloïse found herself recalling the day they first met.
When the two of them first met, Eloïse was the most celebrated Noble Daughter of the empire’s premier noble house, and Lucian was quite literally a lowborn slave.
Lucian had tried to escape her again and again, alarmed at her youthful, naive dream of making him emperor of the realm. Yet in the end, he had yielded to her will.
To reach this point, he had been her devoted student and loyal retainer, a good friend, and sometimes… No, let’s not dwell on that. Personal feelings must be set aside.
And so, through it all, Lucian had become the empire’s emperor for her sake.
Seeing Lucian as a true emperor at last, Eloïse’s heart—which had felt so hollow—was finally filled.
“Congratulations, Lucian. You’re finally emperor.”
Eloïse spoke to the young man now standing before her, her smile radiant.
And soon, they would part.
Swallowing those unspoken words, Eloïse offered her hand gracefully to the new emperor.
Lucian took it familiarly and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, marking it like a seal with a deep kiss. Then he pulled away and gazed at Eloïse intently.
“Your congratulations sound the sweetest, my lady.”
“The ceremonial robes suit you well.”
“There’s something I’d like to ask as a coronation gift, my lady.”
“Name it. I’ll grant whatever you wish.”
“Truly?”
At Eloïse’s words, Lucian’s mouth quirked into a playful smile. For no reason she could name, Eloïse felt a chill.
“There’s only one thing I want.”
……
“Eloïse. You.”
At the emperor’s honeyed words, Eloïse’s face hardened like stone. She wrenched her hand from his grasp.
“That wasn’t the agreement.”
“What can I do? I’ve changed my mind.”
His words sounded apologetic, but his face held not a shred of contrition.
With an expression utterly unmoved, Lucian caught Eloïse’s lips in a kiss. Her eyes widened in surprise before falling shut.
This scoundrel…!
Lucian knew exactly what her weakness was.
His strong arms supported her waist. Unlike their firmness, his kiss was achingly soft and sweet—impossible to refuse.
Eloïse’s arms wound naturally around his neck. Between lips that had drawn slightly apart, she heard Lucian’s quiet laugh.
Eloïse realized something had gone terribly wrong. And that was why her heart raced so strangely.
She loved correcting miscalculations, solving unsolved riddles, untangling hopelessly twisted situations. So naturally her heart would race.
The slave is too beautiful!
001.
The youngest, most brilliant, most beautiful emperor in the history of the Finestra Grand Empire remembered clearly the day he first met Eloïse.
Bang! Whoosh—
That day, torrential rain poured from a dark sky. Before even nightfall, the heavens and the very air had grown so dim that the entire world seemed dark and silent as midnight.
In the midst of this, the annex where Eloïse Belle La Croix, the sole daughter of House of La Croix—one of the most powerful families in the Finestra Empire—resided, bustled with activity.
The Noble Daughter herself had given orders to dress her in unusual finery.
“Where are we going today?”
“The Earl’s Ball is being held. That’s where we’re going!”
“Oh, and I heard the Second Prince will be attending too.”
The handmaids’ chatter continued even in the Noble Daughter’s chamber. She had just finished her preparations.
“Young lady, you are absolutely radiant. You are always beautiful, but today—why, even the sun hidden beneath the darkness would break through the sky just to gaze upon you.”
The handmaids spoke with unanimous admiration. Not a false note among them.
Indeed, Eloïse’s attendants took great pride in their charge. Pride in serving the most beautiful, most noble, most graceful young lady in all the realm.
Mm.
Eloïse herself barely glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
Not bad.
The face in the glass held no emotion whatsoever.
“Thank you all. Rest now.”
“You must tell us everyone’s reactions!”
“Is Prince Camilo really attending today? What if His Highness loses his sight?”
Charming girls. As Eloïse retrieved her mask, she listened quietly to her maids’ chatter and made her way forward.
On the ground floor, Frederick, the knight charged with guarding the Noble Daughter, waited for his mistress. One of the handmaids whispered to him.
“Young lady is coming.”
The moment Frederick looked up, Eloïse was descending the grand central staircase that connected the second floor to the first. The hem of her snow-white gown fluttered in her wake.
Frederick’s breath caught. For a moment, he half wondered if her true destination was really the Earl’s Ball.
Eloïse approached the knight, whose eyes had gone distant with awe, and spoke without emotion.
“Let’s go.”
Eloïse donned the ornate mask that would conceal her eyes. Frederick offered her his escort.
The carriage of House of La Croix, bearing the two of them, began to cut through the darkness. Contrary to the handmaids’ expectations, it did not head toward the Earl’s residence where the ball was held.
After driving for some time, the carriage came to a halt in a dark, dreary back alley.
A rusted iron ring hung from a weathered wall. As Frederick opened the door, Eloïse stepped into the dim interior with utter composure. Any noble lady would have been too terrified to take a single step into such a place, yet Eloïse walked forward with perfect confidence.
Inside, musty mold and various unidentifiable foul odors assaulted the senses. A faint metallic tang of blood could be detected in the damp, oppressive air.
Though she had spent the last several days picking through places like this, the air never became any easier to bear.
Cages lined both sides of the narrow corridor, and enslaved men were pressed against the bars. The iron doors rattled violently.
“A woman! Get that vile stench out of here!”
“Is she pale? She’s wearing a mask—hehehehehehe!”
Each time Eloïse’s delicate, refined clothing brushed past the bars, the men howled like dogs, desperate for her to look at them, crying out for her attention. They spewed all manner of filth without hesitation.
Yet her gaze remained steadfast and unwavering. As she proceeded deeper into the passage with the knight’s escort, the corridor split into two paths.
From the left came loud noises. A slave auction appeared to be underway, but that was not where Eloïse’s interest lay.
“This way.”
Having chosen the right path, Eloïse walked a bit further down the passage. At its end stood a middle-aged man with a protruding belly.
He was the Slave Merchant she had arranged to meet.
“I have been awaiting you, Noble Daughter.”
At the Slave Merchant’s words, the knight shot him a warning glare—a sign that such openly deferential language was to be avoided in this place. Had a third party overheard, that man would already be as good as dead.
The Slave Merchant lowered his eyes.
“Forgive me. I was so overcome with the honor of meeting you in person, young lady, that I—”
“Never mind that. The thing I spoke of—is it ready?”
“Of course. Please, this way.”
The Slave Merchant led Eloïse deeper inside. A quiet, dim corridor opened before them. Visibility was poor. Frederick offered his hand to his mistress.
“I’m fine.”
With characteristic stubbornness, his lady flatly refused his courtesy. She passed him by and walked forward with light, confident steps.
The three arrived at the innermost reception room. The soundproofing was excellent; the noise from before vanished in an instant.
The room had been prepared for VIP—rather, VVIP—clients who occasionally visited. In the center of the darkened space sat a plush velvet sofa.
Eloïse took a seat and crossed her legs. The Slave Merchant spoke.
“Please wait here a moment.”
Eloïse gave the slightest nod. The Slave Merchant bowed deeply and quickly exited.
Indeed, she lived up to her reputation. The Noble Daughter of House of La Croix, that most influential family in the great Finestra Empire. Even with her face half-hidden by the mask, she was beautiful. And possessed an aura beyond reach.
The Slave Merchant, though he stood taller than this woman, found himself overwhelmed by her presence.
“Um, young lady.”
At her knight’s call, Eloïse glanced sideways. Frederick spoke.
“Would it not be wise to depart now? No matter how I consider it, a place such as this is no fit venue for you.”
“Frederick.”
“Yes, young lady?”
“Have you ever seen me make a mistake? Has my judgment ever proven wrong?”
Her green eyes, visible between the mask’s edges, gleamed with an eerie light. As their gazes met, Frederick flinched. Before those eyes, he felt utterly insignificant. Yet that too was why he cherished his lady so.
“Forgive me. My thinking was too shallow.”
As Frederick bowed his head, Eloïse turned her gaze forward once more.
The wait felt eternal. This was already her seventh day. Eloïse had spent the entire week sweeping through this area, viewing slave after slave.
All of this impropriety by the dignified Noble Daughter was driven by a single rumor: a man with beautiful golden hair had arrived among the slaves.
‘If this is another wasted trip…’
No, she mustn’t think negatively. Even if she didn’t find the one she wanted, there would be other methods. She could manage it. She was capable, Eloïse.
As Eloïse steeled herself, the Slave Merchant reappeared.
“Thank you for your patience.”
The Slave Merchant pulled on the leash, and a golden-haired man, hidden in the darkness until now, crawled forward on all fours into the light.
Disheveled hair obscured his face, pale skin, lean but defined musculature. Judging from his broad shoulders, he was quite tall.
For some reason, the man kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.
“What are you doing? Won’t you greet her properly?”
“Urgh!”
The Slave Merchant gripped the leash short and yanked upward. It was the manner of one caring for a dog without affection. The man writhed in distress.
Yet his head remained bowed toward the floor. He clearly had no intention of obeying the Slave Merchant’s command, his defiance apparent.
‘He has some backbone, at least.’
Eloïse, who had been watching with an impassive expression, rose slowly from her seat.
Outwardly composed, her heart raced with anticipation. She felt the thrill of expecting to finally obtain what she desired. An exhilarating tension.
“Young lady!”
Despite Frederick’s protest, Eloïse walked slowly toward the wretched man.
In the man’s downward gaze appeared slender, pale ankles. Then came a voice clear as a bell.
“Show me your face.”
A true aristocrat, the Slave Merchant thought with inner mockery. As if speaking gently would make this stubborn wretch obey.
This one the Merchant had brought was remarkably willful and peculiar for a slave. Unlike the others, he did not cringe at a noble’s slightest word.
The more he was kicked, the sharper his gaze grew; within moments of arrival, he had been flagged as dangerous.
!
Contrary to the Slave Merchant’s expectations, the man who had been resisting slowly raised his head.
Eloïse knelt to meet his gaze. The distance between them shortened instantly.
Their eyes met. Between the unkempt hair, sharp blue eyes were visible. A high-bridged nose, piercing gaze, a jawline too fine for any slave.
His bare chest bore various cuts and scars. Yet despite this, the pale skin was astonishing in its beauty.
“Would you stand for me?”
Before Eloïse had even finished speaking, the Slave Merchant yanked the leash again. The man who flinched obeyed this time, straightening his knees and rising. As expected, the man was both tall and powerfully built.
‘Once cleaned and dressed properly, he’ll be quite presentable.’
A faint smile crossed Eloïse’s lips.
“You’re beautiful.”
At Eloïse’s words, the slave started. Then a bitter smile played at his mouth. The Merchant found it amusing—this girl raised in such a sheltered garden, knowing nothing of the world, saying such things.
“Would you come with me?”
The Slave Merchant’s mouth curved with satisfaction. The Noble Daughter would surely pay an exorbitant price.
But the slave who heard those words fixed a ferocious gaze on Eloïse and reached out his hand toward her.
!
“Young lady!”
“You wretch!”
Eloïse recoiled slightly in surprise, but the mask covering her face had already fallen to the ground at the man’s hand.
Eloïse’s hidden face was now fully revealed.
Frederick quickly retrieved the mask and moved to shield his mistress. In what might have been a dangerous moment, Eloïse instead laughed with satisfaction.
“I like it. This audacity too.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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