PLQYM | Chapter 37

The banquet to welcome Princess Eloine of Alosa lasted three days. This was partly because the treaty between Alosa and Pranas was of great importance, but also because there was an undercurrent of anticipation for a potential royal marriage.

“This banquet must be executed flawlessly.”

The Marquess of Clan had repeatedly emphasized this point to his son, Franz Clan, who was assisting the Emperor for the first time.

“You mustn’t squander this opportunity. If the royal marriage is secured, the Clan family will gain even greater influence.”

“Don’t worry, Father. I’ll prove my abilities this time.”

Franz prepared for the banquet with great determination, secretly resolving to overshadow Lucian and display his competence.

On the final day of the banquet, Princess Eloine left early to prepare for the following day’s engagements.

“Is this the end of the schedule?”

After she departed, Heraith turned to Franz, who was standing nearby.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. This concludes today’s schedule.”

Heraith said nothing but rose from his seat, causing Franz to look at him in a panic.

“Your Majesty, the banquet isn’t over yet.”

Heraith’s fine brows furrowed deeply.

“Right now,” he said with a scoff, his icy tone making Franz shrink back, “are you telling me to stay at this banquet?”

“Well, the schedule—” Franz stammered, unable to form a coherent response.

Sensing the tension, Cliff, the head attendant, stepped forward quickly.

“Your Majesty, it’s late. Perhaps it’s best to retire to your chambers now.”

Heraith didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he stared at Franz, his gaze sharp and penetrating. From a distance, the Marquess of Clan stood stiffly, watching the scene unfold. Heraith smirked faintly and spoke again.

“Should I be grateful that he’s too dim-witted to realize he’s merely a pawn for the Marquess?”

With that cutting remark, Heraith glanced at the Marquess once more before turning to leave. Just as he was about to step away, he paused and turned back to Cliff.

“Cliff, you’ll accompany me for now. Without Luce, everything feels inconvenient.”

Franz paled. The Emperor had just disregarded him entirely as an aide and instead assigned the role to the head attendant. The chill emanating from Heraith’s words left Franz unable to muster a retort. He could only grit his teeth in frustration as Cliff bowed deeply in response.

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

Without another word, Heraith walked out, leaving Franz behind. Cliff followed, never sparing a glance at Franz, who stood frozen in shock.

“What… what is this?” Franz finally muttered, his voice tinged with bitter defeat.

“What kind of idiot selects someone like that as an aide?”

Heraith’s voice was tinged with faint anger as he spoke. Cliff, walking beside him, lowered his head.

“That is my failing, Your Majesty.”

“I’m not blaming you. We couldn’t refuse because of the Marquess of Clan… and besides—”

Heraith didn’t finish his sentence. The comparison was simply too stark.

Until now, Franz’s inadequacy hadn’t been this glaring. He’d always thought Franz was incompetent at anything beyond the basics but hadn’t considered him entirely useless.

“It’s already taken care of. I’ve confirmed everything.”

“There’s no need for you to stay here any longer. Please, return to your chambers.”

“Your Majesty.”

It was all Lucian’s fault. Lucian had handled things so smoothly, as if he’d read Heraith’s mind, making everything feel effortless.

“How much longer?” Heraith suddenly asked.

“About three weeks, Your Majesty,” Cliff replied quickly, understanding the question without needing clarification.

“Tch.” Heraith clicked his tongue in frustration.

“Why does it take so long?”

“It’s the standard duration, Your Majesty,” Cliff explained. He refrained from adding that considering the accumulated leave, Lucian could have taken even longer.

Heraith’s steps halted as they walked down the long corridor toward his chambers.

“I’ll take a walk first. Wait here.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and entered the garden beside the corridor. Moonlight scattered across the darkened landscape, painting the night in silvery hues. The deep, serene blue of the night reminded him of Lucian.

Ah, this is Lucian’s color, Heraith thought unconsciously as he took a step into the shadows.

Then, he heard a voice.

“Your Majesty.”

The tone was soft and delicate. He turned his head, though he knew it wasn’t the voice he wanted to hear.

The figure that met his gaze was a young nobleman he’d seen briefly at the banquet. Smiling warmly, the man approached.

Heraith initially looked away indifferently but paused when he noticed the man’s black hair. It held a resemblance—no, an echo—of someone else.

“Your Majesty…?”

Tilting his head slightly, Heraith stepped closer. Thinking he had been recognized, the young noble’s face lit up with joy.

But Heraith wasn’t looking at him. Through the man, he was seeing someone else.\

Lucian.

When was the last time you smiled at me like that?

The young noble mistook Heraith’s silence for encouragement and grew bolder.

“Your Majesty,” he said again, his voice light and coquettish.

“Your Majesty… ha, Your Majesty.”

The memory of a hushed, trembling voice whispered in Heraith’s ears. His vision overlapped the young noble’s face with another’s.

Black hair clinging with sweat.

Flushed, feverish cheeks.

The sultry voice of that night.

“This doesn’t feel real,” the noble said with a soft laugh, drawing closer.

“I’ve wanted to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“Please, spare me, Your Majesty.”

Heraith’s throat tightened as an intoxicating memory from that night flooded his senses.

Lucian… that night with you…

The voice echoed in his mind, rich with longing and vulnerability.

“Your Majesty!”

“Call me Heraith.”

“I… I can’t.”

“You can. It’s fine for you to do so.”

The memory burned as vivid as the moonlight on his skin. His fingers itched, recalling how they had gripped pale skin flushed with heat, how Lucian had shivered beneath him, clinging and resisting in equal measure.

“Your Majesty.”

The young noble dared to close the distance, emboldened by Heraith’s stillness. His voice dripped with allure as he whispered.

And then, his lips brushed against the Emperor’s.

TL Notes:

How DARE YOU!!!! Don’t touch LUCE MAN!!!