Chapter 65

For a few days after the attack, Eugène was in his room, trying to keep himself calm.

During this time, he was served by an attendant specially chosen by Baron Bouilhet from his family. Like Baron Bouilhet, his family served as court attendants from generation to generation and was a collateral line of House Amèl. Although their status was not high, they were known for their loyalty. His Majesty sent him a close-lipped physician, and with his help, the wound healed quickly.

He shut himself up in his residence after his public appearance at Marquise Bertin’s ball, so it was to be expected how rumors about him would spread.

Even those who had been skeptical could no longer deny their relationship now that they had seen it with their own eyes, but instead, all sorts of lurid fantasies were added to the mix, and his reputation was tarnished beyond repair. Eugène’s head ached every time he thought about it.

In Eugène’s view, nobles had an inordinate love of gossip. They were fanatical about the slightest tale, especially if it involved the nobility.

In the past, I was worried that people would not believe me, but now I am concerned about how to resolve this misunderstanding.

Eugène mused bitterly as he draped his shirt over the new bandage.

Although there were a few crises along the way, their play had worked well enough. In fact, the problem was that it was working too well these days. Now people genuinely thought he was the Emperor’s lover. And speaking of Eugène, he was worried alone that the rumors would not remain as mere rumors but would turn into reality.

Does he truly have such feelings for me?

He refrained from going outside in case his injury was discovered, so after he had healed, there was nothing to do but read a book or write in a journal that he had been putting off. As he spent a boring day, all his thoughts suddenly turned to the Emperor.

Despite the many complex and serious issues that needed to be solved right away, it was the thought of the Emperor that preoccupied him the most. Even when he first realized how Ebroin V felt for him, a part of him hoped that he was mistaken. However, after the events that took place at the ball and the subtle atmosphere that was created in the secret passage, he could no longer escape from reality.

The Emperor wanted him, yes, but more privately and intimately than he had ever imagined.

But why me?

Though not particularly self-deprecating, the idea that someone desired him sexually was extremely foreign to Eugène, who had never been flirted with, even by noblewomen.

He went out to sea as a teenager and devoted his entire life to the military, and most of that time was spent on a ship full of men. Ultimately, it was the logic of power that determined one’s rank in a group of men. Being a particularly superior individual among his fellow men, and even more so as a soldier, he achieved the status of a dominant male leader wherever he went.

And usually, the dominant male is the one making the demands, not the one receiving them, in any sense.

“His Majesty has called for me?”

“Yes. A message was sent for you to come to the Petit Apartments.”

Then one day, Eugène was summoned by the Emperor. He had been physically weakened due to his injury, but the only good thing was that he didn’t have to face the Emperor for a while. But those good days were now over.

He couldn’t show any signs of illness or weakness, so he changed his clothes neatly and combed his hair. Fortunately, he had always been a healthy man, so there was nothing unusual that stood out after he was all dressed up. A scarred lip and a paler complexion than usual were the only concerning points, but unless one looked closely, one couldn’t tell, so Eugène was content with that.

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“mQH DJkb PGjItEN vGSS YJb hI?”

kUNèJT AdTqqTB GYfATi LJB qLQB IQA iTAqTGdA df dIT kPqTifi. EIT kPqTifi YffsTB Ld dIT qLQJdTi mQdI L gfiTB TcqiTAAQfJ, dITJ NYLJGTB gLGs Ld IQP.

“Mhm. You have come.”

“What is Your Majesty doing?”

“Can you not tell? The chamberlain insisted that the portrait must be completed before the start of Grand Feaute.”

The Emperor, having said that, beckoned his attendants to bring out a chair for Eugène to sit on. He politely declined, unable to sit by himself while the Emperor was still standing, His Majesty dissuaded him with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Just sit down. You do not have to stand withUsjust becauseWeare being punished.”

Eugène accepted the Emperor’s favor, realizing that he was secretly looking out for him, who was not doing well physically.

“How are you feeling?”

The Emperor, who had been standing idly, as if sore from maintaining the same posture, asked the question out of the blue. The attitude itself was so casual that no one would have guessed he was asking about a hidden injury. Eugène received his words as if he were responding to a casual greeting.

“I am doing well, somehow.”

“That is a relief, then.Wewere very worried thatWehad not taken care of you properly and put a strain on your body.”

Eugène wondered what he was talking about at first, then nodded, realizing that the Emperor was apologizing for not properly guiding him through the secret passage.

That day, Eugène nearly slipped twice under the Emperor’s clumsy guidance and hit his head once on an alcove. Eugène thought the Emperor was so competent that he could do everything, but it seemed that there were things even he couldn’t do.

As a result, they arrived at Eugène’s room with unexpected difficulties, even though they didn’t go through a thousand hardships. The Emperor, having failed after confidently proposing to guide him, hurriedly left the place, after a simple glance and a murmured goodbye.

Eugène hadn’t said anything because he’d noticed that he was very embarrassed about it, but now that he was apologizing, it seemed that the incident weighed more heavily on the Emperor’s mind than he had expected.

“What happened to the place whereWehurt you that day? Is it okay?”

“It was swollen for about a day, but it soon subsided.”

“Wethoughtwesaw some blood. Is it not torn?”

“It must have looked like that because it had swelled a lot. However, it did not tear.”

Eugène, having a conversation without much thought, suddenly felt a strange change in the air around him and shut his mouth.

The well-trained attendants did not react to whatever they were discussing, but the painter’s behavior became very strange. He would steal glances at them while trying to look like he was concentrating on the canvas. Eugène didn’t understand what he was so conscious of, but his earlobe, which is only half visible because of the easel, must be very red.

What is wrong with him?

For a moment, Eugène didn’t know why the painter was reacting that way, and then he realized how their conversation had sounded to him, and this time he found himself embarrassed.

This was absolutely not such a story, but it was impossible to hold onto the painter and explain it all. He felt the nape of his neck burning red with embarrassment and bewilderment.

When he looked at the Emperor, he smiled crookedly. Seeing this, Eugène had a hunch that the Emperor had done this on purpose, to some extent.

“… I think I heard Your Majesty say that once the portrait is complete, you will create a woodblock print based on it. Is that true?”

Eugène, whose face flushed red with embarrassment, was unwilling to pursue the same topic any further and turned away shyly. The Emperor looked down at him and smiled silently as if he had sensed his feelings. A mischievous smile hung around his narrowed eyes as if he was amused to see him embarrassed.

“They said they would make pamphlets and distribute them during the first week of Grand Feaute. That is the long-time wish of our chamberlain.”

Count Picato, the current Chamberlain of the Imperial Household of the Imbert Palace, was in charge of all imperial events and was a very strict and fastidious man. The Emperor referred to such a person lightly, as if he were instead a child who tends to make infantile wishes.

Although he was not as close to the current Emperor as Baron Bouilhet, Count Picato was also an old loyalist of the imperial family. He has been close to the Emperor since he was the crown prince, and he was a close aide among those who practically raised the Emperor together with Empress Héloïse.

“Originally, there was an idea to issue a special coin withOurface on it, but he rejected it because it was too cumbersome. Then, he said that even if he died, he would not give up the pamphlet for anything.”

“But is that okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, putting Your Majesty’s portrait in a pamphlet. An uninformed citizen would think that the imperial family is playing a scam on the citizens, would they not? Most people would think the portrait was too beautified.”

Eugène spoke in an extremely blunt manner. But the Emperor understood what he actually meant to say and raised an eyebrow.

“Surprisingly, you have a way with flattery. Are you praisingUsforOurwonderful looks?”

He asked with a deliberate nudge, knowing full well what Eugène intended. Eugène’s brows furrowed when he saw the Emperor who was a bit taller than himself.

“I did not go as far as to say all that.”

“You said one would think that it was too beautified to be believable. That, by extension, means thatOurlooks are unbelievably stunning.”

It was an undeniable truth, but hearing it from the Emperor himself made him not want to admit it. Eugène looked at the Emperor, slightly annoyed.

The Emperor’s hair, neatly tied back to paint a portrait, was of a coveted golden color that seemed to have been forged from pure gold. If a young girl who debuted in high society had hair like that, it would surely have been the subject of countless sonnets. Alas, the Emperor was a man, and social norms did not allow women to write poetry for men.

Often overlooked for their intensity, the Emperor’s eyes were actually quite delicate and elegant upon closer inspection. Dense, thick eyelashes framed the large almond-shaped eyes in a fan shape, and his striking golden irises changed colors according to his emotions.

Not only his face, he was physically perfect as well. The proportions were so well-balanced that at first glance he appeared lean and slender, but his shoulder width was not much different from Eugène’s, and his legs were long and toned as if sculpted to wearbreeches.

… No matter how negatively one tried to look at him, the Emperor was an incredibly handsome man. It was no exaggeration to say that he was the most beautiful man Eugène had ever seen, with the exception of his former lover, Prince Cyrill.

Describing his appearance led him to speak like an ardent admirer without any special feelings. When he tried to choose the right adjectives to describe him, he couldn’t help but think of the most fancy ones.

“It is no lie, but I am very sorry to hear that directly from Your Majesty.”

Eugène didn’t want to give himself credit for what he and everyone else knew, so he replied soullessly. The Emperor suddenly became grumpy and approached him, as he stubbornly refused to call him handsome.

“Why must you be so stingy? Would it kill you to utter a word of praise, even in jest?”

The Emperor placed his hands on the armrests of the chair Eugène was sitting, bent over to make eye contact with him, and asked playfully.

“The whole world is well aware of it, so why care about what I have to say?”

“What ifWedo not need anyone else’s but only your opinion?”

Eugène met the Emperor’s eyes, unable to avoid the approaching man. While the beginning was nothing but playful jokes, that mindset soon vanished without a trace. As they locked eyes, the smile gradually faded from the Emperor’s face.

“Weare curious about your feelings. What do you think ofme?”

The Emperor let out his unambiguous thoughts, in a tone that was much more serious than it had been a moment ago.

t/n:hello! hope you’re all doing well. i wanted to thank you all for the sweet comments and the warm welcome TvT i love you all <3 you guys are going to love this volume ;]