You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 46

Kazan enjoys tormenting me but hates seeing me unwell. I can never figure out what he’s thinking.

Elona was lost in thought, absently gazing downward, when her eyes met those of the maid who had called her away during the banquet a few days earlier. The maid gave her a subtle glance and slipped out of the banquet hall.

“She must want me to follow her.”

Elona quickly checked to ensure Kazan was still deep in conversation with the nobles, then quietly followed the maid. As expected, the maid led her to the secluded garden from before.

Waiting for her there was Prince Adrian. Once the maid left, Adrian approached her with a relaxed expression that seemed even more confident than the first time they met. His negotiations with Ashatra appeared to be progressing smoothly.

“I didn’t expect you to slip away so quickly,” he remarked.

“I heard you were unwell. Have you recovered?”

“Yes, I’m fine now,” she replied.

“And I assume you’ve had ample time to consider my proposal. Have you made your decision?”

“Yes.”

Elona’s unwavering response brought a satisfied smile to Adrian’s face. But as she looked straight into his gray eyes, she spoke firmly.

“I’m rejecting your proposal, Adrian. I won’t go with you. I’m staying here.”

Her clear-cut rejection left Adrian momentarily stunned, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. Then, a scoff escaped him, as if the absurdity of her answer amused him.

“And why, exactly, would you refuse? I can’t think of a single reason for you to say no.”

His tone shifted, growing more irritable as his frustration surfaced. Despite a flicker of fear, Elona stood her ground. Adrian, refusing to give up, tried once more to persuade her.

“If you marry me, everything will fall into place, Elona. This is a political marriage, isn’t it? I won’t make unreasonable demands of you. If you side with me, you’ll gain your freedom—”

“No. There’s something I value more than freedom,” she interrupted.

“You mean to tell me you’re giving up your freedom so easily? You know as well as I do what awaits you if you remain here in Ashatra…”

His voice was rising, but then Adrian suddenly froze, as if a realization had struck him. His eyes widened, and he strode over to her, gripping her arm tightly.

“Don’t tell me… You’re in love with him? The tyrant king who’s taken everything from you?”

“Let me go!” Elona protested, struggling against his grip.

“Answer me! Not until you give me a reason I can accept—”

As Elona fought to free herself, Adrian’s voice grew sharper, and the tension escalated as though he might push her to the ground. Just then, the sound of boots striking the stone floor echoed nearby.

The sound was close—very close. Adrian turned his head sharply, only to meet the piercing gaze of crimson eyes.

Standing only a few paces away, King Sendar was watching them.

Adrian, startled, immediately let go of Elona’s arm. Her pale skin now bore a bright red mark where he had gripped her. The king’s gaze lingered on the mark for a moment before returning to Adrian.

His voice was colder than ever, laced with barely restrained fury.

“Prince Adrian. Was it a woman you needed? Or were you after my woman in particular?”

The king’s words carried a seething anger that he hadn’t entirely concealed.

Adrian turned pale, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Your Majesty. I had no intention of making advances on your woman. I simply—”

“In other words, you mean it didn’t matter who the woman was, as long as it was a woman,” the king interrupted coldly. “Unfortunately for you, Ashatra does not entertain its guests, even state guests, with women. My condolences.”

“N-no, Your Majesty! That’s not what I meant! I never—”

“There’s no need for further explanations. Leave. Leave Ashatra,” Kazan commanded sharply.

“…Pardon?”

The king stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto Adrian, who still looked confused by the severity of his words. Kazan spoke with unmistakable clarity.

“Before the new sun rises, you will leave Ferma. Run without rest to the harbor and return to Bahalen.”

“But, Your Majesty,” Adrian protested, panic creeping into his voice. “We haven’t yet finalized any agreements between our nations, and there are still matters to—”

“If the sun rises tomorrow, and a single Bahalen remains in Ferma, they will all be dead, Adrian.”

Kazan’s tone was ice-cold, devoid of even a shred of courtesy.

“The first gift your king will receive from Ashatra will be your severed head. Is that what you desire?”

The king wasn’t bluffing. His words were laced with a finality that left no room for negotiation. Adrian’s face turned deathly pale, and without another word, he fled the garden, his footsteps echoing away into the night.

When the sound of Adrian’s retreating steps had faded, Kazan turned his attention to Elona. She stood frozen, her face a mix of fear and shock. He couldn’t tell whether she was trembling from his threats or from Adrian’s earlier actions.

But when Kazan extended his hand, Elona didn’t resist. She stepped into his arms, allowing him to hold her. He gazed down at her trembling figure, a peculiar sense of familiarity washing over him.

It felt like that night at the ball.

“Elona,” Kazan said softly, brushing his fingers over her arm.

The red marks left by Adrian’s grip were still visible but didn’t appear to have caused serious injury. He gently traced over the marks before lifting his gaze back to her.

“You’re unhurt,” he murmured, his voice calm but firm. Seeing her still unable to speak, he quietly suggested, “Let’s take a walk. Together.”

*

Elona didn’t attend her first ball until she was seventeen. In Parsion, where most young women debuted in society around the age of fifteen, her entrance into the social scene was considered unusually late.

“The queen is absent, so there must have been no one to guide her.”

“Oh dear, it seems Prince Antonio has abandoned his role as her escort.”

“Are the siblings not on good terms? They used to go out together often when they were children.”

Elona had arrived at the ball with her older brother, Prince Antonio. However, shortly after they entered the grand hall, Antonio left her alone and disappeared.

“What do I do now? I’m supposed to dance the first dance with a partner, but I can’t even see my brother anywhere.”

At that moment, Antonio was out on the balcony, enjoying a private rendezvous with a group of noblewomen. Back in the hall, Elona shrank under the judgmental whispers and glances of the strict nobles. Her debutante ball, hastily arranged, had already turned into a disaster.

“Princess Elona? Are you by yourself?”

A gentle voice interrupted her thoughts. Startled, Elona looked up to see who had spoken.

The man standing before her had a strong, handsome jawline, sparkling blue eyes filled with mirth, and neatly styled brown hair. He was one of the most prominent figures in Parsion’s social circles, but Elona had no idea who he was.

“Pardon me, but may I ask your name…?” she ventured cautiously.

“Claude. Claude Barrel.”

“Oh! The son of Count Barrel?”

“The eldest son, yes. I don’t believe we’ve met at a ball before.”

“Well, this is my first time attending one,” she admitted shyly.

Claude smiled warmly. Taking her stiff hand in his, he bowed gracefully.

“Princess, may I have the honor of your first dance?”

“Oh, but I’m supposed to dance with my brother—”

“Prince Antonio won’t be returning anytime soon. He’s always busy, as you know,” Claude interjected smoothly.

Before Elona could protest further, the music for the first dance began to play. To make matters worse, nobles around them were already glancing in their direction, intrigued by the scene. Feeling the weight of their stares, Elona found herself unable to refuse.

“Very well, I’ll entrust you with my first dance,” she said hesitantly.

At her consent, Claude began to lead her with effortless grace. Elona, who had only practiced dancing a few times in preparation for her debutante ball, was clumsy with her steps. But Claude adjusted to her pace and skill, guiding her carefully to ensure she didn’t feel embarrassed.

Most women would have been charmed by his attentiveness by now, their gazes softening with admiration. But Elona’s thoughts were elsewhere, purely marveling at his skill.

“He’s incredible. When I practiced with Kazan, we were both so awful that we just kept stepping on each other’s feet the whole time.”

Even as she danced closely with Claude, her mind wandered to Kazan. She couldn’t help but recall the private moments they had shared, dancing together in an empty drawing room away from prying eyes. His hands, awkward and uncertain, had clumsily guided hers as they stumbled through the steps.

“Princess, what are you thinking about?” Claude asked suddenly, bringing her back to the present.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”