You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 47

Claude watched Elona closely as she blushed and averted her gaze. To him, her reaction was unmistakably a sign of romantic interest. Unaware that her thoughts were consumed by Kazan, Claude gravely misunderstood the situation.

As Parsion’s most notorious playboy, Claude Barrel naturally assumed the naïve princess had fallen for his charm.

“You look a bit tired. Would you like to rest after this dance?” he asked with a practiced air of concern.

Elona nodded immediately. Between her awkward movements and the weight of the nobles’ stares, she was growing exhausted. All she wanted was to escape somewhere quiet and recover.

After the dance ended, Claude promptly returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, fully assuming the role of her partner for the evening.

“Come, Princess. The balcony is too crowded—let’s head to the fountain instead,” he suggested.

Unaware of his intentions, Elona followed him without much thought. The area near the fountain was deserted, and she found the quiet solitude to be a relief.

“It must be overwhelming, attending your first ball. Feel free to ask me anything—I’d be happy to help,” Claude offered smoothly.

“…Thank you,” Elona replied politely, accepting the glass of wine he handed her.

She hesitated, sniffing the unfamiliar drink. Sensing her reluctance, Claude encouraged her.

“It’s customary to drink at least a glass or two at these events. Everyone does it.”

Is that so? Tentatively, Elona took a small sip. The bitter taste made her grimace, prompting a chuckle from Claude.

“You’ll get used to it. Take your time,” he said, downing his own glass effortlessly.

To her, his polished manner seemed mature, and she forced herself to finish the drink despite her discomfort. Claude immediately refilled her glass.

“You’re adapting quickly,” he remarked, pleased.

Am I doing well? By the second glass, the bitterness was fading, replaced by a tangy flavor that lingered on her tongue. As the alcohol began to cloud her senses, Claude continued to pour, showering her with compliments.

“I wonder if Kazan’s ever had wine?”

Even as her thoughts grew hazy, Elona’s mind wandered back to Kazan. She couldn’t picture him drinking wine—it seemed like something only adults would do, and Kazan didn’t fit that image in her eyes.

“But Kazan has grown taller… His voice is deeper now, more masculine.”

She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like as a fully grown man. Surely, he’d become a striking figure—after all, she often overheard maids and noblewomen giggling about his appearance.

“Still, Kazan… he’ll always like me, won’t he? Only me?”

As Elona entertained these vague thoughts about the future, Claude suddenly draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer. Startled, she looked up at him.

His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, filled with an unspoken hunger.

“Princess,” he murmured, his hand brushing against her cheek. His arm tightened around her shoulders, preventing her from pulling away. Only then did Elona realize what he intended.

“Wait, Sir Claude—!”

“Stay still. You want this too, don’t you?”

When did I ever— Elona tried to push his hand off her cheek, but Claude skillfully caught her wrist. She was no match for his strength, and the alcohol in her system dulled her resistance even further. He smirked, clearly pleased with her inability to fight back.

Just as he leaned in closer, satisfied that she couldn’t escape, a voice cut through the tension.

“Princess.”

The familiar voice came from the opposite side of the fountain. Both Claude and Elona turned to see who had spoken.

Through the mist of the cascading water stood Kazan, watching them with an unreadable expression.

Claude’s grip immediately slackened, and Elona shoved him away. Kazan’s crimson eyes remained fixed on Claude as he addressed him coldly.

“Prince Antonio is looking for the princess. I suggest you release her and leave.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose I have no choice,” Claude said with feigned nonchalance, straightening his clothes as if nothing had happened. Turning to Elona, he flashed a shameless smile.

“It seems tonight ends here, Princess. Until next time.”

Elona didn’t respond, too shaken by the unexpected intimacy and the lingering effects of the wine. She could only watch as Claude walked away without a hint of remorse.

“Elona,” Kazan said gently, placing his hands on her trembling shoulders. Lowering himself to meet her gaze, his red eyes reflected nothing but concern.

“You’re drunk. Can you stand?”

“I’m fine. Come to think of it, my brother—he’s looking for me, isn’t he…?”

“That was a lie. I just wanted to get rid of that noble bastard,” Kazan admitted flatly.

“…Thank you.”

If Kazan hadn’t mentioned Antonio’s name, Claude would have ignored him entirely. Supporting Elona, who was unsteady on her feet, Kazan helped her stand.

“Let’s get you back to your room. Tell me if walking gets too hard. I’ll carry you.”

“Okay. I will.”

Leaning against him, she walked slowly, though every step made the ground beneath her feel as if it were swaying. Her face and eyes burned with heat, not just from the wine but from the overwhelming evening.

Kazan, however, remained silent as they walked. Noticing his unusually quiet demeanor, Elona hesitated before asking, “Kazan, are you mad at me?”

“Yes,” he answered curtly, his low voice heavy with restrained frustration.

He added after a brief pause, “I’m mad at myself.”

“Why…?”

“Elona,” he said, halting abruptly to look at her. His eyes were dark, filled with anger and self-reproach.

“You can’t just drink anything someone hands you. That bastard was going to do something terrible to you. And I… I had to use Antonio’s name to save you.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No. This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize… Elona!”

As she tried to move closer to him, her legs gave out, and she stumbled. Kazan caught her as she clung to his collar, her head bowed. He glanced down at her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

“This won’t do. Let’s rest here for a bit.”

He guided her to a bench overlooking her chambers. Sitting beside her, Kazan let her rest her head against his shoulder as she blinked drowsily, the fatigue and alcohol taking their toll.

Elona pressed her fevered forehead to the cool skin of his neck. The contrast was soothing, calming her heated body.

“Elona,” Kazan murmured, his voice firm but gentle. “Don’t drink in front of others anymore. You’re too weak for alcohol. If you must drink, do it only where I can see you.”

“Hmm? It’s okay if it’s with you?”

“Of course. If it’s with me, it’s fine.”

His confident response made Elona laugh softly. Maybe it was the wine, but she felt unusually happy. Turning slightly, she buried her face in his shoulder, finding the gesture comforting.

“I want to hold him.”

The thought came unbidden, accompanied by a strange sense of warmth spreading through her chest. Was this a normal feeling when drunk? It was a new and unfamiliar urge, one she couldn’t quite explain. The chill of the night air prompted her to nestle closer into his arms, seeking his warmth.

Why is Kazan’s body so warm? Why does his voice sound so soothing?

Lost in these thoughts, she raised her head slightly, her heart longing for something she couldn’t name. Before she could second-guess herself, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

Kazan stiffened, his body tensing in surprise. But he didn’t pull away. Nor did he push her back. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as their lips remained gently pressed together, neither moving nor speaking.

“…Ah.”

When Elona finally pulled back, she blinked as if waking from a dream, her mind hazy. Kazan’s crimson eyes mirrored her dazed expression, his gaze unfocused yet fixed on her.

As she stared into his beautiful red eyes, her mind gradually cleared, and the reality of what she had done settled in.

For the first time in her life, she had kissed someone.

And it had been with the person she loved most in the world.

“Elona… did you just…”