The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 2: Emperor’s Summon

Hearing the voice, Nolan paused for a brief moment before calling out, "Hold on, don't come in just yet. I am changing."

Without delay, he discarded his current attire and donned a more formal, somber black robe.

Once finished, he gave a nod of approval and turned toward his bedroom door. "Very well, the door is unlocked. You may enter."

A heartbeat later, the door creaked open to reveal a woman of striking beauty.

Her face possessed a perfect oval shape, framed by slender, arched eyebrows. Her eyes were a distinct purple hue, matching Nolan’s own, and her long white tresses fell gracefully down to her hips.

A butterfly-themed hair ribbon enhanced the refined elegance she projected.

Dressed in a formal black gown, her physique—particularly the mature development of her chest and hips—was difficult to overlook.

Nevertheless, a frigid, detached aura clung to her, serving as a warning to anyone who might consider approaching her too casually.

The woman stepped inside and briefly surveyed her brother, satisfied to see he was properly attired.

"Excellent, brother. It appears that week of morning training sessions has finally paid off," she remarked with a thin, ghost of a smile.

Nolan rolled his eyes expressively. "Do you have any concept of how agonizing it is for me to wake at such an hour? It is truly insufferable!"

This young woman was Elina Lorian, his twin sister. Since he had emerged into the world first, he was technically the elder of the two.

Yet, for reasons unknown, she consistently carried herself with a sense of maturity and coolness, as if she were the senior sibling.

Though her demeanor was vexing, he could not deny the deep affection he felt for her.

Elina let out a light laugh at his protest. The icy, distant expression on her features softened into warmth.

"Do not blame me, brother. You have been lethargic since we were children, and that is hardly a trait befitting a prince. You are expected to serve as a beacon for the people," she stated, crossing her arms and gesturing toward him like a mother chastising a wayward youth.

Nolan felt a sharp twitch in the corner of his eye.

Taking into account his previous life’s experiences—where he had reached the age of twenty-eight before his reincarnation—he was effectively forty-six years old.

And yet, he was currently suffering through a lecture from a girl who had only just turned eighteen.

He remained silent, lost for words and at a total loss on how to respond.

"Alright, alright," Nolan breathed out. He gave a soft pinch to Elina's cheek and asked with a mischievous glint in his eye, "So, what brings you to my quarters? And what did the old man mean by ordering us to the throne room?"

The 'old man' he referenced was none other than Ragan Lorian, the 99th Emperor of the mighty Empire of Velmora.

His stern, imposing nature had earned him the fearsome title, the Lion of the East.

Truthfully, Nolan shared little in the way of intimacy with his father.

It wasn't for lack of affection, but rather a complete lack of interest in participating in the machinery of government.

He had spent his former life shackled by duty as a family heir and felt no desire to repeat that cycle; he wished only for a tranquil, relaxed existence.

Elina scowled, clearly displeased by his informality. "Brother, do be careful. If anyone were to hear you refer to Father in such a manner, it could lead to grave trouble."

The Emperor was notoriously strict with his offspring, and Elina lived in constant fear that her brother’s careless tongue would invite a harsh punishment.

Nolan simply offered a crooked smile, entirely unbothered. In the past, he had endured plenty of scoldings for calling the Emperor 'old man.'

Whether he faced another punishment or not was of little consequence to him now.

Shaking off the worry, Nolan asked in a softer tone, "My apologies. Now, will you explain why he summoned us so early?"

He glanced toward the wall clock, noting that it was eight in the morning.

Usually, this was the time designated for breakfast, yet their father had demanded their presence in the throne room instead.

Unless the matter was of dire importance, Nolan doubted the Emperor would drag them out at this hour.

Elina knitted her brows, answering with hesitation, "I cannot say for certain, brother. However, word among the ministers suggests it may pertain to the succession."

"What did you say? The throne?" Nolan’s relaxed posture stiffened, and his heart gave an involuntary jolt.

Of all things, the idea of the throne was something he despised and studiously avoided. He was weary of the endless weight of succession and political maneuvering.

In truth, he harbored suspicions that his own demise in his previous life had been orchestrated by rivals of the Frey family.

This was exactly why he had cultivated a reputation for idleness upon his arrival in this world, bearing the brunt of countless derisive nicknames.

Did it sting? Not in the slightest.

Regardless of the ridicule, so long as he remained undisturbed and free to enjoy his leisure, he was satisfied.

And now, his cursed father was gathering every prince and princess to discuss the throne.

Nolan felt a sense of encroaching dread—it carried the stench of a major complication, one that could very well shatter his carefully constructed peaceful life!