PLQYM | Chapter 50

“Lucian!”

Heraith’s sharp voice tore through the air.

At first, the oblivious crowd followed the Emperor’s voice to turn their gaze. Then, they saw Lucian—and their faces turned pale.

“Kyaa!”

“Ugh!”

Screams erupted from every direction as the attendees, who had been enjoying the banquet moments before, now collectively shrieked in terror.

“Lucian!”

Standing there in his white formal attire, a red stain spread rapidly across Lucian’s side, blossoming like a flower. Thankfully, it hadn’t hit a vital spot—just barely. If Lucian hadn’t noticed and moved at the last moment, the wound could have been life-threatening.

“Kent!”

At Heraith’s command, Kent Beneff appeared seemingly out of nowhere and intercepted the fleeing man. With the pommel of his sword, Kent struck the man’s nape with a precise, powerful blow.

“Urgh!”

The man collapsed forward, and his mask fell off.

Franz Clan.

The assailant’s identity was revealed, and the entire process unfolded before Lucian’s eyes.

‘Ah, as expected.’

A hollow laugh escaped his lips. The stab wound throbbed painfully, but the situation had been so predictable that he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re laughing now?”

“…But we caught him, didn’t we?”

“Hah!”

Heraith’s face twisted into a savage grin.

“So, you get yourself stabbed just to catch him?”

“This is nothing. It’ll heal quickly.”

“Shut your mouth. If you say one more word, I’ll make sure there’s another hole in you. Fristhe!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

At the Emperor’s summons, the High Chancellor approached, as if he had been waiting for his turn.

“Treat him, quickly.”

The High Chancellor, face pale, knelt beside Lucian to administer healing. Lucian tried to push him away as he attempted to sit up.

“Your Majesty, it’s really nothing. It’s just a scratch—”

“This is your final warning. Be quiet.”

“But we need to block the nobles from leaving and investigate—”

“Your skin must be thick, Luce. Ignoring royal commands and daring to talk back? I said I’d put another hole in you if you kept talking.”

“…I apologize.”

Lucian firmly shut his mouth, realizing that further arguing would only fuel Heraith’s anger. At this point, pushing the Emperor further seemed unwise.

‘Haa…’

With a resigned sigh, Lucian relaxed his body and lay back as Heraith had ordered.

The noise around him gradually subsided. He could vaguely hear Heraith issuing instructions, likely directing the royal guards and attendants to handle the situation.

The major incident had been resolved. Heraith’s plan to weaken the influence of Marquis Clan had succeeded.

The Marquis wouldn’t be able to protect his son this time. If anything, he might abandon him entirely to avoid implicating himself further. Regardless of how events unfolded, the Marquis’ power would be significantly diminished.

‘Taking a stab to the side was worth it.’

With everything settled, perhaps now he could rest. The treatment seemed to be working as his injured side burned hotly, indicating that the wound was closing. The pain was sharp, but bearable.

“Tsk.”

Lucian grimaced involuntarily, and a click of the tongue came from above his head. Surprised, he opened his eyes wide.

Princess Eloine of Alosa was now standing there, looking at him.

“Ah, Princess.”

“Stay lying down. I didn’t realize you were this reckless.”

Lucian’s face flushed faintly as he turned his gaze away. That was a mistake. His eyes caught sight of Heraith’s bloodstained ceremonial robe.

Was that… blood? Whose blood? Mine? Could he be hurt…?

“Y-Your Majesty! Your robe, it’s covered in—”

“Stay down!”

Heraith’s voice was laced with fury, and Lucian clamped his mouth shut. The Emperor was clearly livid. Pushing him further might genuinely result in Lucian regretting his words.

‘He agreed with my suggestion earlier, but now he’s like this.’

Lucian grumbled internally and closed his eyes completely. It seemed wise to just follow Heraith’s orders for now.

‘I’m exhausted.’

Too much had happened. He’d gone back to his estate for a supposed vacation, only to return without even enjoying it properly.

‘Am I going to work myself to death at this rate?’

The ridiculous thought made him chuckle softly. He was thoroughly drained—physically, emotionally, and mentally. His side throbbed, and the wound burned like fire.

The muffled voices above him started to sound like a lullaby. As they buzzed softly in his ears, Lucian drifted into a light sleep.

When Lucian woke up, everything was over.

Franz Clan had been thrown into the Imperial prison, and the Marquis of Clan had gone into seclusion without so much as a protest. Rumors swirled that the Marquis was agonizing over whether to save his second son or abandon him entirely.

Even the Emperor and Princess’ engagement had come to an end.

“What? You’re not engaged?”

Propped up in bed by imperial decree, Lucian stared blankly at Heraith, his face a picture of disbelief.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’? We never intended to in the first place.”

“Oh, right… I guess so.”

Lucian replied awkwardly, and Heraith raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Did you actually think I’d go through with it?”

“Well, not exactly…”

“…Not exactly what?”

“She’s a suitable match, isn’t she? The Kingdom of Alosa is wealthy, and it would be a good alliance.”

“…”

“Plus, the Princess is smart.”

“…”

As Lucian kept talking, Heraith’s expression hardened. Realizing he’d said too much, Lucian promptly shut his mouth.

Heraith just stared at him in silence. Sometimes, he had this way of looking at people—like he was peeling back layers to see straight into their soul. It always unsettled Lucian.

“Your Majesty…”

Before Lucian could finish his thought, a knock at the door interrupted him.

“Your Majesty, Princess Eloine of Alosa is here.”

Lucian fell silent. Whatever he’d been about to say slipped completely from his mind. Heraith glanced at him briefly, then gave the order.

“Let her in.”

The Emperor’s reluctant tone was clear as the doors opened.

The swish of her dress announced Eloine’s entrance. Dressed in a gown that accentuated her figure, she appeared more striking than usual.

“Your Majesty.”

“Welcome, Princess.”

Heraith rose to greet her, moving to block Lucian’s view. Strangely, the Princess seemed completely hidden behind the Emperor’s tall frame.

Eloine noticed as well, her lips curving into a delicate smile as she addressed Heraith.

“I was worried about your aide, so I came to check on him.”

“He’s awake but still needs rest.”

“Oh my, is that so? Still, I think it’s better to see him in person.”

“The High Chancellor’s skill ensures he’ll recover quickly. Thank you for your concern.”

Although Heraith’s response was polite, he showed no sign of stepping aside. Eloine’s elegant brow arched slightly in response.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something—

“Your Majesty, may I greet the Princess properly?”

Lucian’s drowsy voice broke the tension. Heraith briefly smiled before stepping aside, revealing Lucian’s pale face on the bed.

“Princess.”

“Stay lying down.”

Eloine approached to stop him from getting up. Lucian hesitated, glancing at Heraith, whose eyebrows immediately furrowed. Deciding against further resistance, he greeted the Princess from the bed.

“My apologies for disrupting the engagement banquet.”

At his words, Eloine’s eyes widened.

“Oh, engagement? Me? Who said that?”

Her clear laughter filled the room, as though she’d heard the funniest joke in the world.

“Even if I were desperate for marriage, I wouldn’t wed such a selfish Emperor.”

“Ah…”

Lucian stole a glance at Heraith, who seemed entirely unfazed, as if he’d anticipated such comments.

“In the chaos, he abandoned a foreign Princess to save his own people. How could I trust an Emperor like that? I care about my kingdom, and he clearly doesn’t.”

“…I apologize.”

“Oh, no need for you to apologize, Aide Lucian. I’m just saying.”

When Lucian bowed his head deeply, Eloine laughed lightly and continued.

“The banquet was meant to bid me farewell. It was ruined, but what can we do? Just focus on recovering quickly. The palace atmosphere is dreadful as it is.”

“…Yes.”

Throughout their exchange, Heraith barely hid his displeasure. Not that it fazed Eloine; she continued chatting with Lucian for quite some time.

Eventually, when the conversation naturally dwindled, Eloine rose from her seat.

“I don’t know when we’ll meet again. I’m leaving in a week. If you’re well enough, come visit me. I enjoy your company.”

“Thank you. I’ll come by soon.”

Lucian’s formal response earned him a faint smile before Eloine left as lightly as she had arrived.

Once she was gone, Heraith’s face hardened.

“I don’t like her.”