PLQYM | Chapter 38

For a moment, nausea surged up. An insane wave of murderous intent flared.

Crash!

“Ahhh!”

With a scream, a man with jet-black hair was flung far away. The man, who had been approaching the Emperor, didn’t even have time to comprehend what had happened before he was crushed under an overwhelming bloodlust.

“Y-Your Majesty?!”

Even after tossing the man aside with a mere flick of his hand, Heraith sat there, unmoved, as if nothing had happened. His posture was impeccable, but his sharp, cold gaze brimmed with menace.

How dare you. You dare?!

The man could barely breathe, suffocating under the suffocating aura that felt like it could decapitate him at any moment.

I’m going to die.

If this continues, I’m going to die.

Trembling, the man crawled toward the Emperor on all fours, groveling at his feet to beg for his life. He dared not touch Heraith and repeatedly pleaded for mercy.

“I-I was wrong, Your Majesty. P-please spare me. Spare me!”

Spare me. Please, Your Majesty.

The layered echoes of a voice that resided only within Heraith’s memory made his mood plummet even further.

How dare you. How dare you mimic Lucian’s voice to reach me?

How dare you try to touch me with those filthy hands!

As the Emperor’s murderous intent deepened, Royal Guards appeared from nowhere. Leading them was Kent, Heraith’s captain of the guard. Even before the Emperor gave his command, Kent had already drawn his sword, causing the man to scream in terror.

“Ahhh!”

The fear-stricken man grovelled pathetically before the Emperor, his pants now visibly wet. This pathetic display only worsened Heraith’s mood.

This lowly scum dared to mimic Lucian?

“Please, spare me!” the man wailed desperately. Heraith didn’t respond, simply staring down at him with icy eyes. Terrified, the man crawled closer to the Emperor’s feet, shaking uncontrollably.

As if intending to cling to Heraith, the man reached out a trembling hand. At the same time, Kent thrust his sword into the ground in front of the man, the blade piercing with a loud thud.

“Hiiiik!”

The man shrieked, clutching his head as he curled into a ball. His black hair swayed as he trembled, and Heraith frowned deeply.

That black hair.

The only reason Heraith had even spared the man a glance was because of his hair color. It was also the reason he hadn’t immediately stopped the man’s approach.

“Y-Your Majesty, please….”

Heraith found the sight of someone pleading pathetically while possessing Lucian’s hair color intolerable.

“Handle this,” Heraith ordered coldly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kent bowed without sheathing his sword.

But as Heraith turned to leave, he suddenly stopped mid-step, as if struck by a thought.

“…Don’t kill him.”

“Understood.”

Only then did Kent pull his sword from the ground. The blade, buried deep, scraped audibly as it was withdrawn, passing before the man’s terrified eyes.

The Emperor spared one last glance at the trembling, tear-streaked man before walking away, as if he’d never noticed him at all.

“Hic… Hiccup!” The man hiccupped as he cried, tears and snot dripping everywhere. Watching this pitiful display, Kent furrowed his brows slightly and gave a low signal. From the shadows, waiting knights emerged.

“Take him away,” Kent ordered coldly, sliding his sword back into its sheath.

The man, now completely out of his mind, didn’t resist as he was dragged away, unable to stand on his own. Kent, watching the man’s pathetic retreat, turned his gaze toward the direction the Emperor had left.

“Don’t kill him,” huh.

That wasn’t like him. The Emperor had never shown such consideration before. There was only one reason he’d give such an order.

“This could become His Majesty’s weakness someday….”

The thought left Kent’s expression heavier than ever.

***

The days were passing by with an almost oppressive tranquility. Recently, Lucian’s life had been far too peaceful. No one was pestering him, nor was anyone urgently calling for him.

Gone were the days of someone finding absurd excuses to stay within three steps of him at all times.

So this is what it feels like to come back home.

“…Not bad,” Lucian murmured, his voice relaxed and unhurried.

With a happy smile, he swung his legs gently, enjoying the breeze. Many had suggested that he take this rare opportunity to travel, but he hadn’t been particularly keen on the idea. Especially not to the villa the Emperor had arranged for him.

“Are you insane? Like I’d go there.”

He’d wanted to say that directly to the Emperor’s face but wisely held his tongue. Saying the wrong thing to that tyrant might cost him the vacation he’d managed to earn.

And if he went there, who knew when the Emperor might suddenly show up? The villa was far too close to the Imperial Palace.

A vacation is best spent where you can relax freely.

Nodding to himself, Lucian breathed in the air of freedom. That was when—

“Lucian.”

The door opened, and Count Astro entered.

“Father?” Lucian leapt up from the chaise where he’d been lounging, startled by the unexpected visit.

A maid, apparently forewarned, quickly entered to set the table as the Count sat down. An awkward silence hung in the air, but Lucian casually sipped the tea before him, trying to dispel the discomfort.

The Count raised an eyebrow as he observed his son. It had been years since he’d last seen him, and the impression he now got was distinctly different.

As a father, it pleased him greatly.

“How is life in the palace?”

Count Astro asked the question lightly, as if in passing.

“It’s fine.”

“Is His Majesty treating you well? Are you serving him properly?”

“He’s so capable that there’s little I need to do.”

“True,” the Count replied, nodding as he sipped his tea. Silence fell again.

Lucian, having finished half his tea, broke the quiet.

“Why have you come, Father?”

Though not as much as the Emperor, the Count was practically a workaholic. He wouldn’t visit Lucian without reason.

But the Count merely shook his head, dismissing the question.

“I’ve heard good things about you lately. I just wanted to see for myself how you’re doing. That’s all.”

“….”

The air turned awkward again.

They’d never been the warmest father and son. The Count was a stereotypical man of war, while his younger son had always been a bookish type who couldn’t even handle his own body.

The Count had worried Lucian wouldn’t survive long in the palace, but seeing him holding his own was a relief.

“In any case, continue to serve His Majesty well.”

“Don’t worry, Father.”

They were just about to wrap up the conversation when the Astro family butler suddenly burst in, an unusual display for such a seasoned servant.

“Count, young master! There’s trouble!”

“What is it?” the Count asked.

The butler glanced uneasily at Lucian, his face filled with concern.

“Speak.”

At the Count’s prodding, the butler hesitated, then finally made up his mind to speak.

“There’s… a guest from the Imperial Palace.”

“The Imperial Palace?” the Count frowned, confused.

No way.

Lucian’s face stiffened, a sense of foreboding washing over him.

It made no sense for anyone from the palace to come here. And yet…

“The delegation from Alosa had already been fully received… So, what in the world…?”

Lucian furrowed his brow, standing abruptly just as the butler blurted out the rest.

“His Majesty the Emperor is here!”

The butler’s face had gone as pale as a sheet.

When it came to the Emperor, Lucian’s ominous premonitions were never wrong.

As he raced toward the drawing room, his mind swirled with questions.

Sure, the Emperor might visit my townhouse in the capital. That would make sense.

The capital was within the Emperor’s reach, after all. But this?

The Astro estate was three days’ ride from the Imperial capital. A courier might manage it in a day and a half if they pushed their horse relentlessly, but for the Emperor himself to come here out of nowhere?

Moreover—

“Leaving the capital while Alosa’s delegation is here? That wasn’t on the schedule at all.”

It was unthinkable.

The butler must have gotten it wrong somehow. There were plenty of blondes in Pranas, after all. That must be it.

But as soon as Lucian opened the door to the drawing room and saw the man sitting leisurely, legs crossed, sipping tea—

Lucian closed his eyes tightly.

“Ah, Luce.”

The man greeted him with a bright smile, waving casually.

It was unmistakably Emperor Heraith.