PLQYM | Chapter 54

The rising heat made him bite his lip without realizing it.

It wasn’t the first time he’d bitten his lips like this; they were already bruised and bleeding in several places. He couldn’t stay here any longer.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, the color drained further from his face, as if he were shocked by his own decision.

“Idiot.”

Lucian let out a bitter laugh, staring blankly at his reflection.

He looked unfamiliar—not just because he was gaunt, but because his expressionless face seemed disturbingly pale, like all vitality had drained from his eyes.

He tried lifting the corners of his lips into a smile. The crooked grin he forced looked unnatural, awkwardly stretching into a line.

It didn’t feel like his own face—it was as if he were mimicking someone else’s expression.

Still dissatisfied, he tried softening his gaze this time, curving his eyes deliberately to craft a more convincing smile. The result was slightly better than before.

Yes, this should be enough. At least enough to fool him, for now.

Strengthening the forced smile on his lips, Lucian turned around.

There wasn’t much time left.

If he wanted to carry out his plan, he needed to finish everything before the princess left. That meant he had to move quickly.

Lucian moved silently, opening the door without a sound.

Bang!

The door closed with a hollow echo, leaving a lingering emptiness in the air, much like his own heart.

“Lucian Astro.”

As expected, the High Chancellor Fristhe was already busy with temple duties in the early hours of the morning.

“What brings you here at this hour?”

“How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been fine, but…”

Fristhe shot a glance at the priest who had escorted Lucian, and the priest promptly bowed and left the room.

“Come, come, sit here.”

Fristhe grabbed Lucian’s hand and pulled him to sit down.

Seeing Lucian’s unusually pale complexion and the absurdly early hour of his visit, Fristhe couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

More than that, though, he recalled the day he had been summoned to treat him. It was hard to believe Lucian was even up and about now.

When Fristhe had first been told to treat someone after the Emperor’s intimate encounter, he’d been more than shocked—he was furious.

If not for Cliff, the head attendant, personally coming to get him, he would have refused outright.

Even then, a sense of foreboding had lingered. Cliff, normally composed, had looked deeply troubled, and that was rare.

When Fristhe arrived at the Emperor’s chambers and saw who the patient was, his worst fears were confirmed.

He had never treated anyone after an imperial affair before, but seeing Lucian’s battered body lying on the bed, covered in marks, he couldn’t suppress a groan.

It was a relief to see Lucian now, sitting here with a relatively normal face.

“What is it, aide? Are you feeling alright? That bastard didn’t do something else to you, did he?”

As soon as Lucian sat down, Fristhe bombarded him with rapid-fire questions, wasting no time in addressing his concerns.

Lucian couldn’t help but chuckle at the blunt barrage.

He had expected Fristhe to probe cautiously, perhaps hesitantly.

Instead, the High Chancellor’s straightforwardness oddly put him at ease.

“I’m fine. Thanks to your treatment, I recovered quickly.”

Fristhe didn’t seem entirely convinced by Lucian’s pale face, but Lucian only offered a soft, reassuring smile.

It was as if his icy blue eyes were silently pleading: Don’t ask too much. Please.

‘Hah, you and him are both the same,’ Fristhe thought, exasperated by Lucian’s stoic demeanor.

Lucian, however, could clearly see the High Chancellor’s genuine concern for him.

That concern made Lucian feel all the more reluctant to make his request.

But he had no choice.

If he didn’t seek their help, there was no way to escape Heraith’s watchful eyes and reach.

Only two people in the entire empire had the power, influence, and audacity to defy the Emperor: Fristhe, the High Chancellor, and Chauver, the Master of the Magic Tower.

“High Chancellor.”

Lucian met Fristhe’s anxious gaze, his voice quiet yet resolute.

“You once said that if I ever needed help, I could come to you and Master Chauver.”

“…I did say that.”

“I need your help now.”

“My help?”

“Yes.”

Lucian’s calm tone only heightened Fristhe’s unease. Something about this felt far from ordinary.

As if to confirm Fristhe’s suspicions, Lucian continued in a composed, detached voice:

“I intend to resign.”

“What?”

“More precisely, I intend to run away from His Majesty.”

He said it as casually as one might comment on the weather, but his icy blue eyes were cold, filled with unwavering determination.

As expected, Fristhe was dumbfounded. His jaw dropped as he stared at Lucian in shock.

“Resign? No, forget that—run away from the Emperor? Why?!”

“Surely, you’re not suggesting that I should stay by his side after what happened to me?”

Lucian’s slow smile carried an icy edge, sending a chill down Fristhe’s spine.

“Well, no, but still…”

Fristhe shifted uncomfortably, his unease evident as he fidgeted in his seat. Lucian couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight.

Ah, how much easier it would be if Heraith were as openly expressive as Fristhe.

Feigning nonchalance, Lucian plastered a broader smile on his face.

“It’s time to step down.”

“You haven’t even been in the position for three years! That’s hardly long enough. And yet…”

“Considering I’ve endured this long at his side, I think I’ve done pretty well.”

Lucian’s pale face twisted into a faint grin as he offered what sounded like a joke, but his words only deepened Fristhe’s concern.

“Well, but still… Do you realize how much better the Emperor functions as a person thanks to you? He’s managing his duties properly because of you!”

“…Ha.”

A bitter laugh escaped Lucian’s lips as memories of his time under Heraith surfaced.

At first, he had worked himself to exhaustion, desperate to avoid his scorn. Later, he pushed himself even harder, not wanting anyone to say the Emperor had faltered because of him.

But now, none of that mattered anymore.

“I came to you because I believe you and Master Chauver can help. Was I wrong?”

“No, no, that’s not it. But…”

“I had intended to speak to you both together, but it seems Master Chauver isn’t awake at this hour.”

“Old people don’t need much sleep. That geezer’s probably up by now. Wait a moment.”

Fristhe stood abruptly and rummaged through his desk. Lucian watched him silently.

He hadn’t expected them to be so willing to help him. Their immediate, earnest responses brought a faint smile to his lips.

If only I could feel this sense of urgency for myself, Lucian thought absently.

Eventually, Fristhe found what he was looking for and approached Lucian with a bright expression.

“Let’s talk to that old coot together, Lucian. Two heads are better than one, after all.”

He placed a large crystal orb on the table and gave Lucian a playful wink.

“Alright, let’s summon the lazy geezer.”

With a mischievous grin, Fristhe tapped the orb, as if preparing to put on a magical show.

Lucian visited Princess Eloine before tea time, while the sun was still high.

The princess had just returned from a luncheon with nobles, part of her efforts to wrap up her stay in the empire before heading back to her kingdom.

When informed of Lucian’s request for an audience, Eloine seemed to ponder for a moment before agreeing to let him in.

However, when they finally faced each other, she simply sipped her tea in silence, saying nothing.

Lucian waited patiently, his expression calm, until she was ready to speak.

After some time, Eloine finally broke the silence, her tone casual.

“You have a favor to ask of me?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You seem to ask for favors quite often.”

Leaning leisurely against her chair, Eloine gracefully reached for a tea biscuit with her pale hand.

“What exactly do you plan to offer in return for all these favors?”

“Whatever price is necessary, I’ll pay it.”

“Hmm.”

Eloine narrowed her eyes, studying him.

His composed demeanor hadn’t changed since the last time she saw him, but…

He looks thinner. It’s not just from the injuries, is it?