“If I may be so bold — you shine so brilliantly to begin with that it will only make you more radiant.”
The words slipped past Eugene’s lips, entirely at odds with the cool expression on his face. Lucian found that contradiction in Eugene amusing. He held himself with such aloof, unbending composure — and yet answered like one of Lucian’s devoted admirers. But having been on the receiving end of endless flattery, Lucian could feel the hollowness in Eugene’s words. True, perhaps — but not sincere. Like Basil, there were thorns hidden in the phrasing.
Lucian turned the hand he had extended toward Eugene and redirected it to Basil instead. He wiggled his fingers with imperious laziness, and Basil, with visible reluctance, reached into his coat and produced a small dagger. It was barely the length of a hand — no larger than a letter opener — yet the edge of the blade gleamed with a sharpness that made one’s skin prickle. Basil was a former officer who had spent his entire life at the Prince’s side as friend, valet, and sworn guard. If you turned him upside down and shook him, another six or seven blades like that would probably fall out of his coat.
“The mirror.”
Lucian snapped his fingers, and Bates — who had been nearly invisible until that moment — materialized at his side holding a large mirror. Basil followed, wiping the flat of the dagger’s blade once along his cuff as he approached. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lucian tilted his chin up and began unwinding the cravat that had been perfectly knotted at his throat. As the stiff linen shirt collar fell open and the firm, muscled line of his neck was laid bare, Eugene swallowed reflexively, without meaning to.
“Are you truly going to do this?”
Even Basil seemed caught off guard — he looked at Lucian without full conviction. But Lucian let out a soft, deflating laugh and kept his attention on his own face in the mirror.
“It’s only hair — what’s so significant about it? Ivan seems to be struggling to work up the courage, so shouldn’t I lead by example? Besides, I’m not carrying anything fragile enough to fall off over something like this.”
“If it does fall off, I’ll kick it away swiftly and be rid of it once and for all. Gone from this world forever.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say, Basil.”
“Ahem.”
The two men’s absurd exchange made Eugene choke on his own saliva. Basil, in particular, gripping the dagger with what appeared to be life-or-death conviction while saying something like that — it was quite a sight. When Eugene coughed, both Lucian and Basil’s gazes naturally turned to him.
“And besides — doesn’t Eugene say so? That it will make me more radiant.”
Lucian winked at Eugene again.
“Isn’t that right, Eugene?”
It was unmistakably a wink — not something he’d imagined — and Eugene’s lips parted slightly as a soft “Oh” escaped him. Not a sigh carrying any particular meaning, but pure, unguarded admiration. With a face like that, there wouldn’t be a soul alive who could resist being drawn in. Eugene nodded, as though in a trance.
The corner of Lucian’s mouth curled into a slow smirk. It was a smile full of schemes — mischievous to the point of being unsettling — yet Eugene nodded as though he’d been enchanted. In that single moment, it was lethal enough to make him forget every word of the conversation that had come before. And then things happened all at once.
Despite the hesitation he’d shown, Basil moved with the air of a man who had been waiting for exactly this — he brought the dagger to the corner of Lucian’s mouth. With one smooth stroke, the sharp blade skimmed lightly across Lucian’s skin, and a whole chunk of the meticulously shaped beard disappeared in an instant. Beside them, Ivan let out a strangled noise of distress.
With each slight flick of Basil’s wrist, the jaw that had been concealed beneath gradually came into view. Even hidden under the beard, it had been flawless — but once it was cleared away, the result surpassed what Eugene had imagined.
Contrary to everyone’s apprehensions, the effect of laying the lower face bare was far more striking than before. The jaw that had looked sharp beneath the beard turned out to have more defined angles than expected. A jaw with a clean, decisively masculine edge — rather than diminishing anything, it only amplified Lucian’s presence.
Whether by instinct or good business sense, Bates appeared from somewhere with a soft brush. He swept away the remaining stubble with it, and the impromptu shave was more or less complete. It had all happened in a fraction of the time Ivan and Eugene had spent squabbling — making their earlier argument feel entirely pointless. As Basil wiped the dagger clean with a soft cloth and stepped back, Lucian ran his hand along his jaw.
It hadn’t been a proper, careful shave done with due preparation, and the hand tracing his jaw caught a faint roughness against the skin. Lucian turned his chin this way and that, examining his own reflection in the mirror. With the beard gone in an instant, there was something unfamiliar and strangely cool about it.
“It does feel a little strange.”
“Well, it has been nearly two years, Your Grace.”
Has it really been that long — and yet, he thought it had lasted longer than expected. For Lucian, whose moods ran hot and cold and who chased interest wherever it led, maintaining the same look for this long was unusual.
The Queen Mother’s — his mother’s — health had not been well lately, and he had been refraining from lengthy travels as much as possible. Even when he longed to leave Hyphaelion — with its relentlessly exhausting daily affairs — and stay abroad, the farthest he had managed was Phylocines.
The repetitive rhythm of the past few years had left Lucian quietly seething with restlessness, clicking his tongue inwardly. And then, right at the moment when that oppressive feeling had been closing in — his eyes met Eugene’s, who was looking straight back at him, and Lucian experienced something that could only be described as a strange phenomenon: like a fresh, cool breeze drifting into a cramped room. Simply looking at him made the corners of Lucian’s eyes crinkle and his lips curve upward without any effort at all.
Lucian lowered the hand that had been resting on his jaw and straightened his spine. He rolled his shoulders back, drew his jaw up, and ran a hand along it once — putting himself on full display. He smoothed his disheveled shirt collar back into place, preening openly in front of Eugene.
“Well then, Eugene? Does it suit you?”
“…Yes.”
“Does it shine the way you imagined?”
A man of painted perfection was asking him directly — Eugene answered honestly. But only once. He held his tongue rather than say more to Lucian, who was now posturing and angling for admiration while throwing blatant advances in his direction. It did shine — but it was just a little irritating. Praise that came from somewhere other than the heart had a way of showing.
On top of that, Ivan, standing right beside Eugene, was still reeling from the shock. It had been rather audacious of Lucian to simply shave off his beard on the spot like that. Even Eugene hadn’t expected things to go this smoothly — and then Lucian went a step further, beckoning at Eugene as if asking for more.
“Is there any other advice you have for me — beyond what concerns your brother?”
Eugene spoke up again without stopping to think. Once had been daunting; twice came easily. He’d come to understand that Lucian was not the sort of man who fixated on trivial things or made a fuss over small matters. Of course, it helped considerably that Eugene’s appearance happened to fall squarely within Lucian’s tastes.
There was nothing to lose. If Ivan’s account of him was accurate, Lucian could simply appear at a party exactly as he was now — shaved clean — and that alone would make the look the newest fashion. If Lucian was truly this era’s greatest influencer, the men heading home the night that party ended might well shave off their own beards before they’d even reached their doors.
This was a world with limited content — trends would spread faster because of it. Pushing further than this might be greedy, but it was still worth attempting. Unlike the beard, what Eugene wanted to raise now was something he also wanted for himself — for Park Yujin’s sake.
The current trousers, with their crotch that drew the eye in the most distracting way imaginable, were profoundly uncomfortable. If he was going to be receiving attention from all directions at a party, this was something that absolutely needed to be resolved — if only for the sake of modern-man Park Yujin’s mental wellbeing.
“Have you ever considered wearing something other than pantaloons or breeches — widening the cut of your trousers, perhaps?”
“Are you speaking of trousers?”
Park Yujin’s modern knowledge had its limits. He was no expert in this field. He wasn’t entirely certain what exactly “trousers” referred to in this context, but judging by Lucian’s reaction, the style of lower garment Eugene was envisioning didn’t appear to be entirely unheard of in this era.
Of course — trousers are simply fabric wrapped around two legs. Naturally there would be many variations.
But despite the unexpected answer, Lucian’s reaction was lukewarm. Wanting to discuss it in more detail, Eugene stepped forward — only for Basil to step directly into his path.
“We truly have no more time, Your Grace.”
“Come now, Eugene is in the middle of speaking to me, Basil.”
“Are you intending to enter the palace looking like this?”
“Tch — I suppose this conversation must end here for today. What a shame, Eugene.”
Basil cut in front of Eugene and tapped his pocket watch pointedly at Lucian, showing him the time. Lucian craned his neck in every direction trying to see Eugene past Basil. Eugene, for his part, kept shifting his own head back and forth, trying to catch even a word or two more with Lucian. It was hardly the behavior of adults — a rather comical scene — yet no one dared laugh openly, given the Duke’s rank.
“If it suits you, how would you feel about continuing this at Highwinter House?”
At last their gazes met through the air between them, and Lucian offered the invitation without hesitation.
Are you out of your mind? There is no world in which a Primrose would willingly walk into a den of debauchery like that.
Basil, still standing between them, mouthed a frantic silent warning to Lucian — who paid it absolutely no mind. Instead, he shook his head lightly, smiled with infuriating smugness, and even gave a little shrug of his shoulders. Basil had fully expected a politely worded refusal — only for an entirely unexpected answer to sail right past the back of his head.
“It would be an honor. I shall wait for Your Grace to call upon me, whenever it pleases you.”
“Oh. I shall send an invitation before long.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow at Basil. The look on Lucian’s face was so thoroughly insufferable that, had there been no witnesses, Basil would have stamped the heel of his boot down on Lucian’s foot with great satisfaction. But time had genuinely run out. Rather than getting drawn into a pointless back-and-forth with Lucian, Basil focused all his effort on saying nothing and simply herding him out of Atrian as fast as possible.
They had arrived without warning and left just the same — entirely on their own terms. Basil pushed with such force that Lucian barely managed to receive a proper farewell from Ivan and Eugene. Not that his rank required him to stand on such ceremony. Lucian gave a wave to Eugene as he was ushered past the navy curtain and out of sight.
Once the two of them had disappeared, Ivan dropped onto the sofa with a heavy thud. The sudden storm of events had drained Eugene too — belatedly, the energy went out of him, and he sank down beside Ivan. Sharp as ever, Bates offered both brothers a drink and suggested retreating to what was by now surely an empty private fitting room. The dazed Ivan nodded.
Both brothers needed time — and quiet, and a comfortable space — to process the events that had just unfolded in all their various dimensions. It seemed their stay at Atrian was going to run considerably longer than expected.
* * *
“Have you lost your mind?”
That was the first thing Lucian heard as he was shoved out of Atrian and into the waiting carriage. In truth, being asked whether he’d lost his mind was something that happened multiple times a day — there was nothing particularly novel about it. It was practically Lucian’s trademark. Which was why, despite the obvious difference in their stations, rather than taking offense, he simply ran a hand through his hair and kept on smiling.
“Now what.”
“Good grief. We’ll need to get you a proper shave once we’re back at the Duke’s residence.”
“Wasn’t it entertaining, Basil?”
“It was not. In fact, I find everything Your Grace does entertaining precisely zero percent of the time!”
Basil examined Lucian’s less-than-immaculate face with a sigh. It wasn’t a glaring problem in itself — but they were about to enter the palace. Even with every possible detail seen to, it would barely be enough. He could not arrive looking like this.
It wasn’t simply a matter of appearances. Basil, fully aware that Lucian understood exactly how frantic he was on the inside and was choosing to be difficult anyway, finally snapped.
“Basil — find out more about Eugene Primrose.”
