The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 40

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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!
040.
Free from Camilo at last, Eloïse set about properly introducing Lucian to the assembly, leading him from one conversation to the next.
“You operate a merchant company?”
“Callum, you say? That’s nearly impossible to access.”
“And you rescued a noble lady? How remarkably brave. I’ve been dying to know what sort of person you were.”
The reactions were overwhelmingly favorable—whether owing to his striking appearance or his disarmingly smooth manner of conversation, she couldn’t quite say.
“But you truly do trade with Callum? There are so many swindlers about these days. And without a title to your name, it’s rather difficult to trust…”
Of course, every rule had its exception. Yeong-sik alone regarded Lucian with barely concealed contempt.
‘Usually he won’t even look my way.’
Just as Eloïse was about to respond with a wry smile, Lucian stepped smoothly in front of her.
“Ha, I understand your caution entirely. I’ve seen plenty of so-called nobles who bleed commoners dry…”
“What—what was that?”
“Ah, yes. I’ve brought quite a collection of Callum’s specialty goods as a gift for His Majesty’s birthday, and I’d be delighted to set aside some for you as well, if you’d permit it.”
While Yeong-sik’s face turned crimson, those around him perked up at the mention of gifts.
“Specialty goods from Callum?”
“Yes indeed. I’ve assembled everything—rare spices, medicinal herbs, jewels—that only Callum produces.”
His words were truthful. Eloïse had in fact purchased a substantial quantity of Callum’s specialty goods from Brick.
Perhaps this man who had only just appeared was an angel, after all. The nobles seemed to see a radiant halo forming behind him.
***
Having retreated to the Balcony for a moment’s respite, Eloïse watched Lucian converse with the nobility as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
‘Where did he go?’
The instant she poked her head out to search, something cold brushed against her cheek. She flinched and pulled back.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
It was Lucian. He held two Champagne flutes and offered her one before settling beside her with easy grace.
“You seemed to get along perfectly well without me.”
Eloïse accepted the glass and took a sip. The bubbles tickled her throat.
“That was all an act. I was terrified the whole time.”
“You’re lying.”
She turned to regard him with playful skepticism.
“I mean it. I’m anxious whenever you’re not by my side.”
Lucian tucked a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear, then leaned close to whisper against it.
“So try to stay near me, won’t you?”
She tensed slightly as his lips hovered scarcely a breath away from her ear.
Then came the interruption.
“His Imperial Majesty approaches.”
At the herald’s booming call, Eloïse turned back into the reception hall.
The Emperor and Empress entered, followed by two Concubines.
The elder nobility who had graciously stepped back to allow the younger set room to mingle now appeared once more.
The real contest was about to begin. Eloïse planned to present Lucian to the Emperor and gauge his reaction.
Thump-thump. Her heart raced as she led Lucian forward to meet the sovereign.
‘I wonder what His Majesty will think when I tell him Lucian appears to be the First Prince?’
She had imagined their meeting many times, and in her mind’s eye, the Emperor had invariably worn an expression of skeptical uncertainty.
But reality departed entirely from her expectations.
“Valensio?”
The moment the Emperor spotted Lucian, he let out a strange cry—neither quite a laugh nor a sob.
“Father?”
Camilo, who had been stepping forward to greet the sovereign, stopped short in bewilderment.
The Emperor, as he knew him, was a stern man with everyone.
‘At most he smiled for Mother—or so I’ve been told.’
Though it was said he had been tender with the First Prince in the past, Camilo had never believed it. His father was the last man to be called gentle.
“Valensio!”
Yet now that very man threw decorum to the winds and rushed forward—in plain sight of half the court. It was shocking beyond measure.
Even the Imperial Advisor stood frozen, unprepared for such an outburst.
“You’re alive. You’re alive.”
The Emperor seized Lucian by both arms, his breath ragged and emotional.
“I…”
Lucian, caught completely off guard, trailed off without finishing his thought.
He had imagined countless scenarios with Eloïse—but nothing like this.
“I always believed it. I knew you couldn’t be dead. How could you be? You’re my son, after all.”
When the Emperor suddenly pulled him into a fierce embrace, Lucian’s mind went utterly blank.
In his field of vision appeared the shocked faces of Concubine Nora and Concubine Greta, and the Empress, her expression rigid as stone. The other nobles wore much the same look of astonishment.
But their shock was not born solely of the Emperor’s impropriety.
It was only later that Eloïse realized it was because Lucian, held in the Emperor’s arms, bore an uncanny resemblance to the Emperor himself in his youth.
“I receive the Empire’s radiant glory with gratitude, Your Majesty.”
At the sound of her clear, measured voice, the Emperor turned his gaze to Eloïse, giving Lucian the chance to slip carefully from his embrace.
“The House of La Croix is well known to us. It is indeed fortunate you returned safely.”
“You honor me. In fact, it was this gentleman who saved me when death seemed imminent. I thought it only right to present him to Your Majesty.”
As Eloïse gently pulled Lucian forward, he snapped back to awareness and added hastily:
“It is a profound honor to stand before Your Majesty.”
“Valensio rescued the lady?”
For whatever reason, the Emperor had already fixed Lucian in his mind as Valensio, the First Prince.
“With respect, Your Majesty, my name is Lucian Astner, not Valensio.”
“In fact, I have urgent matters concerning this very matter that I wished to bring before Your Majesty.”
At Eloïse’s words, the Emperor nodded slightly and gestured to his Advisor, issuing some silent instruction. Then he turned to address the assembled dignitaries.
All bowed deeply in deference—all except Lucian.
He bent at the waist a moment late, having been distracted.
“I thank you all for coming to celebrate the birth of the Second Prince, Camilo, the cornerstone and great pride of Finestra.”
“Your Majesty.”
At the Emperor’s summons, Camilo stepped forward readily.
“Hone your wisdom and virtue henceforth, so that you may become a beacon of light for the Empire.”
“I shall take your words to heart, Your Majesty.”
“Let us therefore enjoy these four days of celebration.”
The brief address concluded and applause rippled through the hall, though notably the birthday prince himself did not smile.
As the imperial family retired to their place of honor, the banquet resumed.
“If you would both follow me, please.”
As the Advisor approached, Eloïse and Lucian exchanged a wordless glance.
***
In the Reception Room adjacent to the hall, Eloïse and Lucian found themselves seated across from the Emperor and Empress.
Eloïse recounted briefly how she had come to meet Lucian and what manner of person he was.
‘His gaze is rather intense.’
Though Eloïse was the one speaking, the Emperor stared at Lucian without blinking, his smile beginning to twitch with strain.
“A noble deed indeed, Valensio.”
“Your Majesty, Lord Astner is not Valensio.”
The Empress spoke for the first time, her tone measured and reasonable—though the Emperor seemed not to hear her at all.
Eloïse proceeded carefully.
“Your Majesty, Lord Astner has no memory of anything before his fifth year.”
“Is that so?”
“Beyond doubt. Lord Astner was abandoned in a remote village at around five years of age, with no understanding of why.”
The Emperor’s eyes flared with sudden intensity. All the pieces were falling into place.
“Do you remember nothing of your parents, either?”
Lucian nodded with somber gravity, his expression suffused with the melancholy of a difficult childhood.
“I have no memory of my parents whatsoever—whether from some grave accident or other cause, I cannot say.”
A chill ran down his spine. The Emperor had seized his hand.
“It is certain. You are my son Valensio. I would know it, regardless of what anyone else might say.”
“Your Majesty…”
“Would a father not recognize his own child?”
Perhaps heaven itself was aiding her. Eloïse found herself fascinated by how events were unfolding so differently from her expectations.
If things continued this way, Lucian would seize the titles of First Prince, Crown Prince, and Emperor all at once—and then some.
“That is precisely why I brought Lord Astner to the Imperial Palace, Your Majesty, believing as much.”
Eloïse smiled and inclined her head in agreement with the Emperor.
It was the Empress who broke the warmth of the family reunion.
“Your Majesty, while I understand your longing for your son, it would nonetheless be prudent to conduct a formal Imperial Prince Verification before proceeding further.”
The Emperor looked at her in surprise. In marked contrast to his sentimental fervor, the Empress remained measured—even cold.
‘True. There have been plenty of impostors claiming to be the First Prince in the past.’
Eloïse understood perfectly the Empress’s unspoken misgivings.
“But cannot you see the resemblance? Surely no one could doubt he is our son?”
The Emperor pressed his case with evident frustration, yet the Empress’s resolve did not waver.
“That is precisely why a thorough verification is necessary. It will serve Your Majesty well—and Lord Astner equally.”
The Empress’s penetrating gaze turned toward Lucian. He flinched under its weight.
“…You are right. Your reasoning is sound. A rigorous process will foreclose unnecessary speculation.”
The Emperor, lost in thought, spoke his conclusion slowly.
“We shall begin the verification immediately after Camilo’s birthday celebration concludes.”

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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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