The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 58

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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!
058.
The one who had interjected so rudely was a former prime minister. With hair streaked silver and a face lined with wrinkles, he bore the unmistakable impression of a man obsessed with propriety.
Everyone in the Reception Hall turned to stare at him in shock, yet he pressed on regardless.
“While the return of the First Prince is most welcome, I would urge that the Crown Prince Investiture be hastened as well. We cannot delay any further!”
He was one of Camilo’s most ardent supporters. His preemptive strike before Lucian could even speak was clearly calculated to subtly undermine the First Prince.
“The matter of greatest importance now is Valensio!”
As the Emperor’s eyes widened in fury, another seized the moment to rise from his seat and add his voice.
“Your Majesty speaks truly! The Prince has scarcely had the chance to say a word—what is this display?”
The Former Prime Minister fixed on this man—a full decade his junior—with a glare. He showed no sign of yielding his position.
“The Crown Prince Investiture has been delayed far too long. With Camilo grown to such maturity, how can he still be merely a prince? We must invest him as Crown Prince at once and restore order to the realm!”
The quarrel that had begun spread like wildfire across a field. Others began raising their voices, each putting forth their own arguments with mounting fervor.
“No, no! Surely it is only right that Valensio, the eldest, inherit the Imperial Throne…….”
“Camilo has received rigorous education from childhood—he is clearly the most suitable!”
“Haste breeds disaster! We must give this time…….”
While the Emperor brooded on how to deal with these troublesome men, Lucian observed the unfolding scene with calm detachment.
Looking at how matters were developing, the Council clearly divided into three factions.
First, the hardcore Camilo supporters—they appeared to be the largest group. Next came those who were friendly to the First Prince if not outright Valensio supporters, set against Camilo. And finally, those who remained neutral.
As Lucian tallied their numbers, the Emperor too was surveying the Camilo faction with a predatory gaze.
‘Tiresome wretches! How dare they presume to speak on my succession!’
The Emperor was about to bring order to the situation when—
“That will suffice.”
A weighty voice fell, and the room fell silent at once. It was La Croix, Duke of the realm and father to Eloïse.
La Croix, who had spoken not a word until now, swept his disdainful gaze across the other elders.
“The Prince has returned safely after more than a decade, and this—this is how the Council of Elders extends its welcome?”
The Duke’s measured rebuke caused them all to look away in shame.
“How can we expect the Prince to regard the Council of Elders with anything but contempt? I beg you—maintain some dignity.”
Lucian found the Duke’s bearing surprising.
‘I had heard he was a strong supporter of Camilo.’
La Croix turned his head and fixed Lucian with a steady gaze.
“Your Highness, forgive our rudeness. The Council of Elders is honored to have you restored to us.”
……
For the first time, Lucian felt a chill run through him at that penetrating stare—a gaze that seemed to see through him entirely.
He had felt it before at the Duchy Estate, but the weight of the Duke’s presence was formidable indeed.
Eloïse was fond of saying her father was hotheaded, yet the Duke who met Lucian’s eyes now appeared colder and more calculating than anyone else in the chamber.
‘Does he remember me?’
Lucian could read nothing from the Duke’s impassive face. He cleared his throat.
“I am honored to make the acquaintance of the Council. I am the First Prince of the realm—Valensio Ses Florin.”
Light applause followed, and then introductions and courtesies from the elders.
Some passed their introductions briskly, their eyes sharp with scrutiny, while others extended warm pleasantries and blessings. Some marveled that he bore an uncanny resemblance to the Emperor himself.
When the introductions of all twelve elders had concluded, Lucian smiled.
“I am grateful for your welcome. Having been away for so long, I am eager to do my utmost to guide the realm forward.”
……
At his words, the air in the hall grew noticeably heavier. None could miss the undercurrent—his unspoken claim to the Imperial Throne itself.
Some coughed awkwardly, taken aback, while others smiled broadly and offered their applause in approval.
A tense silence descended before the Emperor spoke again.
“Henceforth, Valensio shall attend the Regular Council Meetings regularly, and I trust you will all lend him your full support.”
The quiet hall stirred with murmurs, and meaningful glances were exchanged. The Emperor had all but declared his backing for the First Prince.
The faces of the Camilo faction darkened noticeably.
Camilo had first attended a Regular Council Meeting two years prior, and had been absent ever since. His stance was simple: once he became Emperor, he would have to attend regardless—so why bother now?
“I am honored to present the First Prince formally today. At the forthcoming Harvest Festival, I intend to announce his return to the entire realm, and I hope to see you all in attendance.”
Before anyone could lodge further objection, the Emperor rose and brought the matter to a close.
“I look forward to seeing you all again soon.”
Lucian bowed respectfully and followed the Emperor from the Reception Hall.
While father and son departed in good spirits, the remaining elders exchanged glances heavy with uncertainty and concern.
***
The next morning.
The Separate Wing Kitchen of the Duchy Estate was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere from dawn.
“Must it really be done to this extent, Mary?”
“As if I’m pleased about this.”
“Surely the young master hasn’t forgotten what day this is!?”
“Apparently, he has…….”
The Chef sighed heavily at the modest spread he had prepared. Mary, too, seemed drained of all strength.
“Is breakfast ready?”
Both Mary and the Chef’s heads turned in the same direction. Klaus entered briskly, accompanied by a knight.
Hmm.
He pushed at the simple fare on the tray with his fork. Ever since Eloïse had been caught sneaking out, Klaus had begun interfering with even her meals.
“Remove that.”
Klaus tossed down his fork and pointed at the cake beside the tray. It was lavishly decorated with dried fruit and coated with sugar—clearly prepared with great care.
“Young Master! This cake was specially prepared for today……!”
Before the Chef could stop him, Mary had already protested. She could not allow such a precious day—occurring only once a year—to be ruined like this.
Klaus popped a piece of fruit into his mouth and issued his warning again.
“Remove it.”
Thinking only of Eloïse’s indifference to his harassment stoked a slow, simmering resentment in him. He fixed both of them with a sharp look before leaving the kitchen.
……Piano?
In the hallway, Klaus paused, tilting his head. A soft melody drifted from somewhere. He moved slowly toward the source.
Before the staircase leading to the second floor, an unfamiliar man stood guard.
“Who is this!?”
Klaus found his answer at once. The man wore a uniform, and upon its chest gleamed the Imperial Seal.
Meanwhile, Eloïse lay in shallow sleep. It was a gentle piano melody that woke her.
A dream, perhaps? There was no one in this house who played piano but me.
The melody descending to her ear was a piece she loved. It was not a difficult composition—one that Lucian often practiced.
Eloïse kept her eyes closed, letting the tender, sweet strains serve as a lullaby, drifting back toward sleep. Her heart felt at ease.
Then, as the flowing melody suddenly broke and resumed, a smile bloomed unbidden on her lips.
‘Lucian always stumbled there too.’
At last, Eloïse rose from her bed. In her sleeping clothes, she made her way toward the Salon where the piano stood.
Though she had thought it a dream, as she quietly opened the Salon door, the gentle piano sound grew suddenly vivid and clear.
No dream. Someone was playing the piano in the Salon.
Eloïse settled onto the sofa without a sound, focusing intently on the performance. The skill that had seemed unlikely to improve had advanced far beyond what she remembered.
“Happy birthday, Eloïse.”
Lucian, having brought the piece to a polished conclusion, drew near to her side.
“Am I dreaming?”
Eloïse looked up and gazed at Lucian’s face intently.
“What?”
Lucian laughed at her unexpected response and knelt down to meet her eyes.
“I suppose I am rather unrealistically handsome.”
Eloïse laughed as well, falling in with his playfulness.
“If people saw you, they’d think you seized the Prince’s throne with your face alone.”
“That would be troublesome.”
As Lucian smiled in return, studying her face, his expression suddenly grew serious.
Eloïse had grown thinner than when he had last seen her. The fault lay clearly with her father and her cousin. A sigh escaped him unbidden.
“Ah. Sorry—sighing on such a wonderful day.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s not what’s wrong with me…….”
After studying Eloïse for a long moment, Lucian fixed her with a resolute gaze.
“Come back to the Imperial Palace with me, Eloïse.”

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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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