The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 2

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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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That slave is far too handsome!
002.
The slave, who had just been menacing moments before, now gazed at Eloïse’s unmasked face with an almost gentle expression.
Eloïse returned his gaze without flinching, meeting it directly.
“Not going to look away?”
The slave trader struck the back of the slave’s head, and only then did their peculiar exchange of glances end. Eloïse brushed off the mask the Knight had given her and fastened it back in place before speaking.
“I’ll take this one.”
“An excellent choice, miss.”
The slave trader’s face bloomed with a smile, but the man’s expression grew only more strained.
‘Is she mad?’
Even his threats hadn’t made her blink—she simply laughed as though pleased. Whoever this girl was, something was clearly loose in her head. Or perhaps she harbored some twisted appetite. That would explain why she’d crawled into a place like this of her own volition.
“One more thing.”
“Yes, miss. Anything at all.”
“Pick out three more who look similar to this one and have them ready as well.”
Eloïse spoke as though selecting hats to her taste. Frederick’s expression hardened steadily.
“Similar-looking ones, miss? Yes, of course!”
The slave trader chirped his agreement eagerly. Eloïse flashed the man a smile.
“See you soon.”
The man answered only with a glare. Led by his leash, he vanished into the darkness alongside the trader.
“Move quickly! Bring me Grade A men—no, Grade S!”
The slave trader clapped his hands, and several well-formed, presentable men soon lined up before him.
“Hmm.”
This one has a weak chin. That one’s eyes are dull. This fellow is in poor condition.
The trader assessed them silently, then selected the three in the best overall shape.
The platinum-haired man, chosen first, leaned close to the blonde man beside him with a conspiratorial whisper.
“Heard we’re being sold to some noble lady? We’ve hit the jackpot!”
While the platinum-haired man grinned, the blonde man’s face remained rigid.
“Why the long face?”
“…….”
“Come on, it’s far better than being sold to some old woman or a man with perverse tastes. We’re lucky, really.”
The man turned his head away as though refusing to listen. The slave trader shouted to all four slaves.
“What are you doing? All of you, follow me!”
***
Two carriages rushed through the squalid streets. After cutting through the darkness for some time, they came to a halt at the Rear Gate of the La Croix Duchy.
“Miss, you’re back already?”
“Everyone says they fell for you again today, miss?”
At word of Eloïse’s arrival, all the maidservants hurried to the entrance, chattering eagerly.
One or two tilted their heads in confusion. The ball should still be in full swing at this hour—why was she returning so early?
“I’m tired. Prepare a bath for me.”
Eloïse handed her mask to the nearest maid and spoke. The maid who received it promptly dropped the mask she had been holding.
“Heavens! What on earth—?”
Frederick had just entered behind Eloïse with four muscular men in tow. Everyone froze, stepping back in alarm.
“Miss, what is this!”
“Ah. Give all of them rooms at the Knight Order Barracks. Have them bathe first, then feed them. You all understand, yes? This is a secret from Father.”
“But, miss. Weren’t you supposed to be at the ball?”
Mary, her personal maid, approached Eloïse and asked. Sensing Mary’s impending lecture, Eloïse quickly moved toward the stairs to her second-floor bedroom.
Ah, I can breathe again.
Eloïse collapsed face-first onto her plush bed. Her eyes slid shut. The tension drained from her body as she relished the satisfaction of having completed a major task.
Just as she thought she might drift off, Mary’s voice came at her.
“Miss! Wake up this instant and explain yourself!”
“I’m tired. Later.”
“Where have you been instead of the ball? Tell me! If the master finds out—”
“That’s exactly why I asked you to keep it secret from Father.”
Eloïse barely turned her head to glance at Mary, her tone sharp with annoyance. Yet Mary showed no sign of relenting.
“I don’t know what you’re plotting, but you should have attended the ball! You’ve rejected every invitation these past few days—tea parties, evening gatherings, everything!”
“Why waste my time on such useless affairs?”
“Useless! Do you know what rumors are circulating?”
Mary began to wring her white apron in frustration.
Here we go again. It was the gesture Mary always made when she was upset with her. Finally, Eloïse pushed herself up from the bed with a scowl.
“What rumors?”
Truth be told, Eloïse had no interest in gossip whatsoever. Rumors spread by fools were beneath her notice.
But for now, she needed to humor Mary.
“They’re saying you’re to marry Baron Graham! Can you believe it?”
While Mary fretted, Eloïse showed barely any reaction—oblivious to how much this irked her maid.
“You know what they say about him, don’t you? He’s ancient, his belly hangs out, he’s balding, and he’s a complete fool!”
“I know.”
Eloïse had seen Baron Graham at parties before.
He was always a red-faced old man reeking of drink. There were rumors he gambled in back alleys, and these had proven true enough—his wealth was not substantial.
So it was hardly surprising that he hadn’t married despite being well past forty.
“And you’re not even angry? About this ridiculous rumor spreading?”
“It’s not true. Why get upset over a lie?”
“Miss! Are you truly going to be like this?”
Mary reproached her.
I should have just agreed with her. Why did I have to argue? As Eloïse’s expression grew tired, Mary spoke again.
“If you knew who started this rumor, you wouldn’t make that face.”
“Who?”
“Prepare yourself.”
Mary glanced around the empty room, pulled up a chair, and sat directly in front of Eloïse. Then, though no one was listening, she leaned in and whispered, her expression grave.
“It was George.”
Eloïse’s eyes flickered for a moment. Catching that, Mary’s face lit with triumph.
‘George?’
George La Croix—Eloïse’s half-brother and the illegitimate son of the Duke La Croix, born to a commoner woman the Duke had courted before his marriage.
And that was hardly the extent of it. Even after the Duke had married Eloïse’s mother in a political arrangement, he had continued his affair openly with his mistress.
Her mother had seen the mistress’s face on the very first day of her marriage.
The two women had each borne children within the same year. Because George had been born a few months earlier, he became the elder—yet Eloïse still refused to acknowledge the bastard as her brother.
‘Eloïse. Never surrender your position.’
After her frail mother had passed when Eloïse was four, her father brought his mistress and the illegitimate child openly into the household.
As though pitying the bastard label, the Duke showered attention on George alone, ignoring his legitimate daughter. To any observer, one would have thought Eloïse was the illegitimate one, not George.
From the day the unwelcome interloper arrived, Eloïse and George had truly been competing for the position of heir.
Unlike Eloïse—beautiful, graceful, and intelligent—George lacked in every way. He was short, unremarkable in appearance, and above all, dim-witted. He possessed no martial talent either.
It should have been an absurd contest from the start, yet because the Duke lavished his favor upon George, nearly everyone assumed he would be the next Duke.
To make matters worse, George styled himself the “Little Duke” in his boasts.
‘I will never allow that.’
George seemed intent on damaging his own reputation so he could dispose of her. Eloïse sprang from the bed.
“Miss?”
“I’m going to the ball now.”
Color flooded back into Mary’s cheeks. Finally, the young miss had made the right decision. Delighted, Mary rushed toward the vanity.
“Just a moment, please. Let me redo your makeup.”
“Not necessary.”
“Pardon?”
Eloïse was already opening the bedroom door and stepping out. Mary’s face fell.
“You’re going to the ball like that?”
“It’s fine. Even disheveled, I’m beautiful.”
It wasn’t a false claim, but still—if she was going anyway, wouldn’t it be better to take care?
Having already exhausted her daily quota of complaints, Mary could only puff out her cheeks in defeat.
Already Eloïse was stepping out through the entrance.
***
Meanwhile, the ball at Miller Count’s Residence was in full swing, crowded with guests.
“Still no sign of the Lady of House La Croix this evening.”
A nobleman seated beside Prince Camillo glanced at him and spoke. The prince himself sat with chin in hand, his expression plainly bored. Despite his elaborate attire, his eyes betrayed only weariness. He had arrived early and had not danced with a soul.
‘What could she possibly be doing?’
Prince Camillo had already marked Eloïse of House La Croix as his intended partner.
Though he had never explicitly stated it, none were unaware of the prince’s interest in Lady Eloïse.
Thus, he dismissed the recent rumors as trivial. He spotted Baron Graham near the balcony, wine glass in hand.
‘Pathetic.’
The orchestra concluded a long piece. The young ladies gathered at the tables to rest. Their conversation, naturally, centered entirely on Eloïse.
“It seems the rumor must be true, then?”
“That she’s to marry Baron Graham?”
Despite their sympathetic tone, smiles played across their faces. They would gladly see Eloïse, who had won every man’s admiration, removed from the picture entirely.
It was at that moment. The servant at the door announced in a loud voice:
“Lady Eloïse of House La Croix!”
As though on cue, every head turned toward the entrance at once.

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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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