The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 9

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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!
009.
While Lucian remained grave, Eloíse’s mind was elsewhere entirely.
‘The gods themselves are helping me. How did I manage to acquire such a creature?’
A slave who could read. In an age when even common folk were often illiterate, this was extraordinary. This alone would save her an enormous amount of time.
“Exactly. That’s the First Prince’s name. Memorize it. It will soon become your own.”
Valencio Sess Floren. Valencio Sess Floren. Valencio…….
At Eloíse’s words, Lucian found himself rolling the First Prince’s name over in his mouth.
A man whose face he had never seen, who felt to him like nothing more than a figure in a book. A man with a brilliant, elaborate name—unlike himself, who had no proper name at all.
“Lucian, do you happen to speak any other foreign languages? Ah, never mind—why don’t you write your name for me first?”
Eloíse, who had been lost in thought, asked with sparkling eyes. She handed him an ink-dipped quill pen.
“My name?”
“Yes. Your name, Lucian.”
But that isn’t my real name, Lucian thought to himself as he wrote neatly upon the parchment.
My name is Lucian. So says the vain demon girl.
“Wow. Your handwriting is quite beautiful……. And who exactly is this vain demon girl? I’m not vain at all—I’m genuinely magnificent.”
“In any case, I can read and write well enough.”
“Lucian, the more I see of you, the more I truly like you.”
“…….”
Eloíse laughed brightly. In that moment, Lucian’s face contorted slightly.
It was strange. From the moment he first saw her, Eloíse’s expression changed frequently, and she laughed easily. And yet…….
‘It’s not even a new smile, so why does it bother me?’
Lucian could find no answer. Eloíse asked again.
“Do you happen to know any other foreign languages?”
“I know a little Kalaum Language, and only the basics of Pabelos Language.”
“That’s sufficient.”
After that, Eloíse taught Lucian the Imperial Family’s Family Tree—the names and characteristics of the current Imperial Family members.
He had expected to find it tedious, but Lucian listened intently to her explanation.
Thus their first lesson came to an end. Eloíse grew increasingly curious about Lucian.
What could his past be? How had he come to speak so many languages, and how had he ended up enslaved?
It seemed that if she could understand this, she could make the First Prince’s missing link—that fifteen-year gap in his history—all the more compelling.
‘Should I ask him directly?’
No, never.
Eloíse was one to question and answer herself. For some reason, she sensed that Lucian would not willingly divulge his past to her. Direct questioning could wait until she had built more rapport with him.
‘Instead, I’ll need to do some investigating.’
***
Georges stormed toward the Annex Building where Eloíse resided.
Several days ago, his father had summoned him and delivered both a scolding and shocking news.
‘Not only a two-week House Arrest Order, but they’ve also stripped me of authority over the Southern Territory!’
Georges gnashed his teeth. The loss of territorial authority was no great hardship—that work had always bored him—but the two-week confinement was another matter entirely.
Georges was a man who could never remain indoors. His life’s pleasure lay in venturing out, meeting other noble youths, drinking with them, going hunting, trading tales about women. That was all that mattered to him.
And now, confined for two weeks!!!
‘I must find Baron Graham soon and devise a plan to marry him off to Eloíse.’
This was all Eloíse’s fault.
Georges had to rid himself of Eloíse quickly and become Duke. He wanted the family wealth and position all to himself.
For now, his only option was to seek her out and beg her forgiveness. His plan was to apologize convincingly and persuade her to lift the House Arrest Order.
‘My heart wants to say far harsher things, but I’ll restrain myself for now. Sigh…….’
Georges’s hopes, however, met an obstacle before he even reached Eloíse.
“I’m afraid entry is not permitted for you, young master.”
A knight guarding the entrance to the Annex Building blocked his path.
Georges flinched slightly under the knight’s downward gaze—the man was a full head taller than he. But then he straightened his spine and demanded an answer.
“Ha! Listen here, do you know who I am?”
The knight answered flatly.
“You are not to be admitted under any circumstances. Those are the young lady’s orders. The Duke has approved them.”
“Fine! I need to see that woman—I mean, Eloíse!”
Georges fumed like a petulant child, but the knight’s resolve remained unshakeable. He even displayed open annoyance at the disruption.
“I’m sorry, but the young lady does not wish to see you.”
“Damn it! Is Eloíse inside right now?”
“I cannot say.”
Georges wanted nothing more than to swing his fists at the knight and teach him a lesson, but the size difference left him intimidated despite himself, and he quickly reconsidered.
Why not just plant himself here and wait until Eloíse came out?
Once that thought took hold, Georges grinned wickedly and settled against the outer wall, crossing his arms.
The knight watched him with bewilderment but made no move to stop him. Thirty minutes passed.
‘God, I’m bored out of my mind.’
Georges yawned widely. Neither Eloíse nor so much as an ant appeared.
Should he just give up and leave?
It was the moment Georges uncrossed his arms that—
“Is everyone assembled?”
A loud voice came from behind the Annex Building. Knight training was beginning.
Seizing the distraction from his boredom, Georges walked toward the sound.
As he’d suspected. In the rear courtyard, Eloíse’s knights were conducting light drills under Frederick’s command.
The La Croix Duchy maintained two separate knight orders: the formal ducal guard and a small, specialized order devoted solely to Eloíse.
It was unusual for a noble lady to have her own dedicated knights, but Eloíse was an exception.
‘Wait a minute.’
Georges, watching the training, tilted his head in confusion.
‘Now that I think about it—why was that blond fellow in Eloíse’s chambers at that hour? Even for a knight, being alone with a noble lady in her private quarters isn’t proper, is it?’
Georges recalled Lucian, the blond who had blocked his path to Eloíse that fateful day.
His memory of the man’s face was hazy from drink, but he remembered the blond hair and impressive build. Suddenly, Georges’s mind raced.
‘Found it.’
A way to get revenge on that girl.
***
Baron Graham had been sipping honey-aged liquor since morning, gazing out at the landscape beyond his window. He enjoyed his morning drinking—it made all worldly cares melt away.
Today was different. No matter how much he drank, his mood refused to lift.
It was all because of Georges’s radio silence. The fool had dangled such sweet promises about giving him his sister, only to go silent.
‘I have no intention of forming marriage ties with Baron Graham’s house, or any other house whatsoever.’
Graham smiled thinly at the memory of that evening at the Miller Earl’s Ball.
He could still see Eloíse’s audacious eyes as she refused to marry him. His lower body stirred at the thought of her slight, almost delicate frame.
‘So women of ambition truly are more appealing.’
Baron Graham preferred spirited ladies like Eloíse to docile, puppet-like ones. He wanted to break that proud spirit.
There was no time to waste. He had to act before the green boy, the Second Prince, could make his move.
‘Fire is bright and beautiful, but draw too close and you’ll burn to death, my lord.’
As the ball ended and the carriages gathered, the Second Prince had tossed that remark at him in passing.
The other sniveling young nobles around the Prince had sniggered. Graham’s nose had flushed red. They pretended it was a joke, but no fool could deny the Second Prince meant every word.
‘The brat doesn’t even have the position of Crown Prince, yet he dares.’
Graham’s expression shifted by the moment. To humble the Second Prince’s nose, he had to make Eloíse his own.
Just then, a knock sounded, and his steward entered to report.
“My lord. It appears that the young Count Georges has received a House Arrest Order.”
“A House Arrest Order?”
“Yes, my lord. My information comes from one of the Count’s servants, so it is quite reliable.”
Graham set down his goblet and fell into thought.
“Bring me parchment. I must send a letter.”
The steward promptly returned with fresh parchment, an inkwell, and a quill pen. Graham seated himself at his desk, pondered briefly, then wrote without hesitation.
To my dear Count Georges of La Croix,
Your faithful friend, Graham.
I have heard of your House Arrest Order. How it pains me to be parted from you, my friend.
Why not invite guests to your residence instead? All would gladly accept your invitation.
I myself eagerly await the day I may cross the threshold of the ducal household.
Two hours later, Graham received an affirmative reply from Georges.
The man’s greedy eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

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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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