The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 34

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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 handsome!
034.
“Commander!!!”
In the Separate Quarters of the La Croix Ducal Household, now thrown into disarray, Meary rushed down the corridor with bloodshot eyes.
Even the head housekeeper, who had been about to scold her, closed her mouth at the sight of Meary’s state. All the servants of the Separate Quarters, having lost their master, were beside themselves with worry.
Frederick was no different.
‘Where on earth could she be?’
Frederick had just returned to the Separate Quarters and collapsed onto the sofa in the parlor.
Day after day, he had been searching the City District, tracking every lead, every trace of Eloïse who had vanished the morning after George’s birthday celebration.
Not only Eloïse’s Knight Order, but the Duke’s Knight Order as well—even the Second Prince Camillo had joined the search, and they had turned the entire Capital upside down, yet they had not found a single strand of the Lady’s hair.
‘Someone must have kidnapped the Lady—there’s no doubt of it!’
Prince Camillo had insisted as much. Frederick found himself leaning toward that view as well.
‘Could it be that fellow who disappeared the same day?’
Just as Frederick buried his face in his hands, lost in fruitless speculation, the parlor door swung open urgently.
“What’s the matter?”
Meary stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
“A letter has come!”
Meary, who had called out so loudly for Frederick mere moments before, closed the door behind her. Her voice dropped at once, and she waved two envelopes in the air.
“A letter?”
“From the Young Lady herself!”
Frederick’s eyes, which had been heavy with exhaustion, snapped open.
Meary handed him one of the envelopes. His own name was written on the front in unmistakable handwriting—the Young Lady’s own hand.
Both of them tore open their envelopes urgently and began to read, concentrating intently on their own letters.
“Thank goodness. Thank goodness the Young Lady is safe!”
Meary dabbed at her glistening eyes with a handkerchief. Her tearful expression quickly gave way to fury blazing across her face.
“Lucien—that damned wretch! She went after him!”
Frederick clenched his teeth, sharing Meary’s sentiment entirely.
What in blazes had possessed that fool to run off to such a distant place?
He found himself lamenting bitterly that he was not fair-haired.
Yet the anger of both of them soon subsided. It was because Lucien, having come to his senses, had kept Eloïse safe with him.
“What? No…”
As Meary read the end of the letter, her hands began to tremble. She turned her head sharply toward Frederick.
“Young Master George and Baron Graham were trying to—to dishonor the Young Lady!”
“What?”
Frederick, already furious beyond measure, snatched the letter from Meary’s hands. What she said was true.
How dare they lay a hand on the Lady—!
His face flushed and paled by turns. The two of them then exchanged letters to read them both.
“There’s no time, Commander.”
Meary jumped to her feet from the sofa and spoke with grim resolve. Frederick nodded.
“We meet here again in two hours.”
The letters contained detailed instructions for each of them. After exchanging a meaningful glance, Meary and Frederick left the parlor in haste.
The housemaid and the commander of the guard met again at the same place two hours later. Though still exhausted, both their eyes had regained their spark.
Meary handed Frederick several letters.
“These are the fabricated letters, altered just as the Young Lady instructed.”
Meary had forged the problematic letter in George’s hand, exactly as Eloïse had directed.
The letter sent to Baron Graham detailed a plan to dishonor the Lady on the day of the birthday celebration and then kidnap her.
“And this as well.”
Meary handed him one more letter.
It was a letter she had actually obtained from George’s room. The crumpled paper bore the true plan for the dishonor, complete with misspellings and crossed-out words scratched roughly across the surface.
“You’ve worked hard. After I report these letters to the Duke, I’ll go to escort the Young Lady.”
Frederick spoke calmly, suppressing the urge to tear George to shreds.
“Please be careful.”
Frederick took the letters and left the parlor. Awaiting him in front of the Separate Quarters were the guards he had prepared.
Meary, too, rose from her seat. She still had work to do.
Her task was to spread throughout the land the story of the misdeeds of George and the Baron, as well as the tale of the hero who had rescued the kidnapped Lady.
***
After riding for several more days, Eloïse and Lucien reached a harbor in a small village.
In the quiet harbor stood several tall men.
“Young Lady!”
It was Frederick. Before Eloïse, who had brought her horse to a halt, could even dismount, her knight came running toward her in great strides.
“Frederick.”
If he could have, he would have swept the Young Lady—whom he had searched for so desperately—into a tight embrace.
But as he approached her, he stopped abruptly, just short of her face.
“Young Lady, what in the world—”
His eyes widened. Bewilderment flickered across features that normally betrayed no reaction to anything.
The Eloïse that Frederick remembered always presented a perfect appearance.
But the Young Lady before him now looked less like a noble heiress and more like some country tomboy.
“Oh. One thing and another happened.”
Eloïse laughed lightly, as if it were nothing, and studied his face. He was glaring at Lucien as if to hold him accountable.
But Eloïse’s eyes registered something different.
“Frederick… you’ve been so worried about me.”
His unkempt hair, roughened skin, eyes shot through with red—
Now, taking in the appearance of her knight after this long separation, reality finally caught up with her. The adventure was over.
“I was deeply concerned, Young Lady. I’m so relieved to see you safe.”
He spoke each word with emphasis. Eloïse smiled in reply and exchanged greetings with the other knights as well.
“…It has been a long time.”
Lucien, who had exchanged an awkward glance with Frederick, spoke hesitantly.
Frederick, who had been watching him in silence for a while, finally answered.
“You did well.”
Lucien had expected Frederick to reproach him for putting Eloïse through such hardship. He doubted his own ears. Had he misheard? He tried to catch Frederick’s eye again, but the knight had already stepped away.
Frederick now stood close beside his master. As Eloïse issued him various instructions, she turned her head and began searching for something.
When her gaze met Lucien’s, she smiled and beckoned him over.
“Lucien!”
He hurried toward his master like an eager puppy.
They soon boarded the ship, and several days later, at dawn, they arrived quietly at the Capital’s harbor.
As Eloïse descended from the ship, escorted by Frederick, the sun was just breaking over the horizon.
Eloïse’s expression grew uncertain. The city, once familiar, now felt strange to her.
A carriage bearing the La Croix Ducal Household’s crest waited on the Dock. Eloïse and Lucien climbed into the carriage, while Frederick and the knights mounted their horses.
“Mmm…”
Lucien covered his mouth as yawns kept escaping.
“Try to get some rest before we arrive. Things will be chaotic once we’re back.”
Eloïse, sitting across from him, spoke in a hushed tone.
Lucien watched her quietly.
Eloïse was still dressed plainly. That was fine by her—it would show their father how much she had struggled, she’d reasoned.
‘How far ahead does Eloïse think, anyway?’
Unlike Lucien, whose body ached from the long journey, she seemed quite fresh.
“Aren’t you tired, master?”
“I’d rather you didn’t use that title anymore, Lucien.”
Lucien swallowed the question that had been forming on his tongue.
Unlike when he had left the Capital, he was returning on his own two feet. Soon, much would change.
“So I should call you Eloïse?”
“Better to use ‘Lady’ or ‘Young Lady.’ Especially in front of others.”
“Understood, El.”
The moment Lucien added that playful nickname, the carriage lurched and came to an abrupt halt.
“Oh!”
As Eloïse lost her balance and began to fall forward, Lucien quickly caught her arm.
Just then, there came a knock, and the door opened slightly.
“Young Lady. I have something to tell you.”
Frederick appeared and whispered something in Eloïse’s ear. Her expression slowly hardened as he spoke. Once he finished, he waited by the door while Eloïse’s hands moved quickly.
“What’s the matter?”
Eloïse removed the hat she had been wearing and placed it on Lucien’s head. That done, she reached into her bag and wrapped a scarf around his lower face.
“Wait, why—”
“Don’t you dare step outside, understood?”
“But that doesn’t answer why.”
“Later. I’ll explain later.”
Eloïse hurried out of the carriage. Lucien wanted to follow, but Frederick stood blocking the door like a sentinel.
“Young Lady!”
At the unwelcome voice, Eloïse forced a smile.
In the distance, the Second Prince Camillo came running toward her. His aide would have sighed had he been there to see it, but there was no one who could stop a prince in his tracks.
“—!!!”
Closing the distance in moments, Camillo swept her without hesitation into his arms. Eloïse’s expression froze as she found herself unwillingly crushed against the man’s chest.
“…”
Inside the carriage, watching Eloïse, Lucien’s eyes turned cold as ice.
Lucien found himself genuinely curious about the face of the man who had dared embrace Eloïse unbidden.
His instinct was to burst out and demand who this man was, but his own predicament—hiding like this—sat ill with him.
For the first time, he felt the urge to stand openly at Eloïse’s side. Better yet, to stand there as the First Prince Valencio.

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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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