The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 49

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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 far too handsome!
049.
Eloïse’s face flushed and paled as she read through Maery’s letter with urgent eyes.
The letter, beginning with “To the young lady I long to see,” contained a brief account of the Duke of La Croix’s recent circumstances and the state of his household.
The Duke of La Croix had not attended Camilo’s birthday celebration, claiming he needed to visit Georges, who had been exiled far away, and his wife.
‘Well, it makes sense—after all, Camilo was the principal architect in driving Georges from the Capital, so the Duke wouldn’t want to see his face for some time.’
The Duke had returned to the Capital just days ago and learned the Imperial Family’s news late—that the strange person Eloïse had brought was undergoing the 1st Prince Verification Procedure.
‘So Father threw a fit?’
There was nothing strange about it. Though the Duke and Camilo had grown distant, the Duke still leaned toward supporting Camilo, when pressed.
Maery’s letter ended with a note that even the servants in the separate quarters had noticed the Duke’s fury.
A postscript was attached below.

“Hmph. The tide of fortune has already turned in my favor.”
Eloïse, whose anger now kindled at the mere sound of her father’s name, tore the letter to shreds with feeling.
“Love letter, perhaps, young lady?”
Camilo’s face suddenly emerged from behind the shrubs—though for how long he’d been there was anyone’s guess.
“Your Highness.”
Eloïse’s eyes widened when their gazes met.
Camilo bore the marks of worry—dark shadows under his eyes, skin rough and dull. It was hard to believe he had been the guest of honor at a birthday celebration mere days ago.
“From the way you shredded it on the spot, it must have been from that ugly young lord.”
“…That’s hardly amusing, Your Highness.”
“Not joking—being serious. You’re forever dangling some trinket or other, aren’t you?”
Camilo stepped closer to Eloïse, twisting his mouth into a smile.
“Your Highness, I’m afraid I’m busy and must—”
Eloïse naturally stepped backward but froze. She felt eyes upon her.
‘Since when?’
The Prince’s knights had appeared without warning and stood at a distance, watching the two of them. It was as though they were keeping her from fleeing. She felt caught in a trap she never saw coming.
“Going to that bastard?”
Camilo’s gaze turned cold as he quickly moved to block her path.
Camilo’s contemptuous attitude toward Lucian hardened her expression, yet her eyes remained fixed boldly on the 2nd Prince.
“I simply wish to speak with you further, young lady. Am I asking for something unreasonable?”
Camilo wound a lock of Eloïse’s hair around his finger, a clear signal he had no intention of releasing her.
“Of course not, Your Highness. Please, speak freely.”
Eloïse relaxed her rigid expression and forced herself to smile.
‘That smile… I don’t like it.’
Camilo disliked the way Eloïse maintained such studied formality with him.
Once, he’d taken it as a mark of respect due to his royal blood. But the moment he saw her laugh genuinely before that charlatan merchant, his faith in her shattered.
Eloïse had been drawing a line between them under the guise of propriety.
‘Once we’re married, I’ll correct that attitude from the start.’
Camilo suppressed his anger and signaled one of his knights.
The knight approached and handed his lord a small case, which Camilo immediately turned toward Eloïse.
“…”
When Camilo opened the case, a glittering Diamond Ring captured Eloïse’s attention.
“Eloïse Bel La Croix. Will you become my wife?”
Eloïse worked hard to keep her terrible thoughts hidden.
It was a dreadfully hurried proposal—or rather, closer to coercion into marriage.
She thought that any hint of refusal might prompt the knights to draw their blades.
“You understand, surely, that I can make you Empress. Every noble lady dreams of such a position.”
It was Camilo who grew anxious instead. Eloïse appeared calm, as if she’d anticipated the proposal. He hastened to add more.
“Stop playing games about becoming a Duke. Come to me, and I’ll forgive everything—that heretic and all your clever schemes.”
A tremor ran through Eloïse’s hands.
She’d never harbored such hope, but this arrogant 2nd Prince clearly dismissed her dream of continuing her house’s line as a joke.
After standing silent for some time, Eloïse slowly parted her lips.
“I…”
“Your answer—”
Camilo cut off her words urgently, grabbed her hand, and forced the ring onto her finger.
“I’ll hear your answer later. Take all the time you need to think it through.”
With that, Camilo swept his cloak and hurriedly left. The knights quickly followed in his wake.
“Your—”
Left alone, Eloïse’s words trailed off. His retreating figure looked like he was running away.
She immediately removed the ring from her finger.
Her hand throbbed where it had gripped so tightly.
‘He didn’t want to be humiliated in front of everyone, did he?’
Eloïse’s eyes burned as she inwardly mocked the cowardly Prince.
***
At that very moment.
Lucian regarded Hugo standing awkwardly before him. Even invited to sit, Hugo stubbornly remained on his feet.
Lucian had managed to keep him here, but where should he even begin?
Lucian rubbed his face. He had a strong instinct that his childhood—memories of which had entirely eluded him—were somehow connected to Hugo.
1st Prince, servant, or perhaps… even an illegitimate son unknown to the world. He kept all three possibilities open. If only he could learn the truth.
There was another question that nagged at him: why had his early memories vanished entirely?
‘I can’t afford to waste this chance…’
The more urgent his heart grew, the blanker his mind became. Eventually, he decided to open the conversation with an easier question.
“How long have you worked in the Imperial Palace?”
“Since I was five or six years old, I believe.”
“What? At such a young age?”
Lucian’s eyes widened. Five years old—surely that was far too young for a child to fend for himself.
“I didn’t do anything significant. When I was small, I simply served as a playmate for the young princes.”
“A playmate? Then, by any chance… did you know Valensio?”
“Yes? Yes, that’s correct.”
This was unexpected gain. Perhaps he could extract some information from Danae or Eloïse that they didn’t know about Valensio.
“Then you must know him well. Would you share information about him? Anything at all would help.”
Hugo’s expression grew troubled.
“Truly, anything will do. Even trivial matters.”
“Well… I apologize, but it was so long ago that I scarcely remember. Besides, I wasn’t the only playmate for the Prince…”
Clang!
Hugo’s trailing words dissolved into the loud crash of something breaking.
A tray set on the table fell to the floor, and teacups and plates shattered into pieces.
Hugo had instinctively stepped back and inadvertently bumped the table with his arm.
“Oh! My sincere apologies, Lucian. I’ll clean this up right away.”
As Hugo hurriedly cleared away the shattered remains, Lucian pressed his hand to his damp forehead.
Hugo swiftly finished tidying the floor and suddenly raised his head. The color had drained from his face.
“Lucian? Are you unwell again? Shall I fetch the physician at once?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Your complexion looks quite poor.”
“Really, I’m all right. More importantly, please, finish what you were—”
Contrary to Lucian’s wishes, Hugo’s hands moved urgently as he gathered the tray.
“I’m afraid I must go. Please rest yourself.”
He hurried from the room like a man harboring a secret.
Lucian remained seated, his hand pressed to his head for a long while. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet.
There was something peculiar in his expression as he looked up.
Something buried nearly a lifetime ago had surfaced in his mind.
He was staying in the palace that had once belonged to Valensio, the Emperor having granted him its use.
Lucian approached the wall slowly. His hand moved with practiced ease, just as it had in the Imperial Library, and what had been a wall for so long slid silently open.
Presently, the room fell silent.
“Lucian, I’m here.”
Shortly after, Eloïse knocked and, receiving no answer, slowly opened the door. She had meant to share dinner with him.
“Lucian?”
When no reply came, Eloïse began to look around the room. The servants had said he was here, but…
“Is he asleep? That must be it, surely?”
When she confirmed that even the bed lay empty, Eloïse sank to the floor as though her legs had given way.
The image of Camilo drawing a blade against Lucian suddenly flashed before her.
‘No, it can’t be…’
She’d been so caught up in the joy of her recent advantage that she’d forgotten: this was the Imperial Palace, a place where death could come without warning.
That was when—
“Eloïse.”
At the sound of her name from somewhere unseen, Eloïse’s breath caught in her throat.
She spun around in a panic, but there was not a soul to be seen, not even a stray hair.
Hah. Am I hearing things now? No, focus. Get ahold of yourself.
Eloïse bit down hard on her lip and scanned her surroundings again. Her only thought was finding Lucian, no matter what.
“Eloïse, it’s me.”
Then, when Lucian emerged from a place she never would have guessed, Eloïse nearly fainted in earnest.

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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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