You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 48

Kazan murmured in a bewildered voice, as if unsure whether to believe what had just happened. Worried he might think she was joking, Elona grabbed his hand urgently.

“This isn’t a mistake!” she blurted out.

“But you’re drunk. You’ve had too much to drink,” he replied cautiously.

“No, that’s not it. I wanted to… That’s why I kissed you…”

Please, believe me. Though her flushed cheeks and slightly unfocused gaze might have suggested otherwise, Elona desperately hoped he would trust the sincerity in her words.

“Kazan, I… I really….”

Before she could finish, Kazan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. His arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her into his embrace. Elona responded instinctively, sinking into his hold and returning the kiss.

Kazan’s trembling.

The hands that held her shook slightly, as did his lips against hers. He kissed her fervently, yet there was an unspoken hesitation in his movements.

Was he afraid? Anxious that this moment, so fragile and fleeting, might disappear?

He’s scared this will vanish.

I have to protect him.

Elona realized then how precious his feelings were—so fragile that they might shatter if left unguarded. She knew she couldn’t let him doubt or fear, not even for a moment.

She clung to him, her young heart making a silent promise.

At seventeen, she resolved with unwavering certainty:

I’ll never let go of Kazan or his heart. No matter what happens.

*

“This has happened before, hasn’t it?”

As Elona followed Kazan toward the palace’s inner garden, memories from long ago resurfaced. The circumstances now were similar, but the positions they found themselves in were entirely reversed.

“Now I understand how Kazan must have felt back then. I feel the same way now.”

That desperate, anxious feeling of fearing you could never truly have someone, no matter what you did. In the past, Kazan had never once given up on her—not for a single moment.

But now, she had already lost him.

“Kazan,” she called softly.

In the stillness of the garden, bathed in moonlight, he stopped and turned to her. His figure was strikingly clear beneath the silver glow of the night.

He was no longer the uncertain, vulnerable boy of their childhood. Now, he was a fully grown man and a king who ruled her world. All the insecurity and hesitation of his youth were gone. Elona stepped closer, tilting her face up to meet his gaze with a calm expression.

“Thank you for saving me… like you did back then,” she said.

Did he remember? Did he recall that night, so many years ago, when they had shared their first kiss, born of impulse?

Without waiting for his response, Elona rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was gentle, their lips meeting softly before deepening naturally. He didn’t tremble at her touch this time. He no longer seemed anxious or uncertain.

Because he didn’t love her anymore.

Kazan’s feelings have shattered.

She had crushed that earnest, desperate love of his. He would never love her again, no matter what she did now.

“All I can hope for now… is forgiveness.”

Elona didn’t want his misunderstanding of her to remain. Even if they could never share love again, she at least wanted to soften the hatred she knew he harbored.

Seven years ago, on the day of his trial, she had not accused him. She had not claimed he forced himself on her. She had not begged for his death.

She only wished Kazan would come to understand the truth of what had happened that day. She wondered what expression he would wear when all the misunderstandings unraveled.

“Perhaps, in the end, you might even feel sorry for me.”

Elona had refused to run away with Adrian. She didn’t plan to flee with anyone’s help or through any secret deal. She intended to leave honorably, on her own, after uncovering irrefutable evidence in Parsion—evidence that would prove the truth to him.

And if one day she disappeared from his life, she only hoped he wouldn’t hate her too much.

*

Elona’s daily life gradually began to settle into a routine. She would wake at a reasonable hour, eat breakfast, and accompany Miriam to the Temple of Lue. In a small room within the temple, Aslan would always burn droplets of prayer water, revealing visions for her to see.

Though they still hadn’t found the Water of the Desert, Elona would return to Mano Palace after her treatment, chatting with Miriam along the way. Since that first day, they hadn’t encountered Irid again.

“Come to think of it, it’s been a while since we’ve seen Irid. Do you think he’s avoiding you, Miriam?” Elona teased, half-joking.

Miriam smiled lightly. “Irid Pasha is likely very busy these days. Soon, there will be a grand festival to mark His Majesty’s first year on the throne. He and the Grand Vizier must be overseeing all the preparations.”

It’s already been a year since Kazan ascended to the throne.

Elona had only spent about half a year in this land, yet it felt as though much more time had passed.

“There must be a banquet during the festival, right?” she asked.

“Of course. Not only a banquet, but the first annual martial arts tournament will also begin. His Majesty’s martial prowess is renowned, so many will compete fiercely, hoping to earn his recognition. It’s a very special honor.”

“Will His Majesty participate as well?”

“No. He’ll be presenting the prize to the victor. As the host, it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to compete. Besides, no one could possibly defeat him.”

The idea of Kazan being such a skilled warrior was difficult for Elona to imagine. During the seven years he had spent apart from her—from age 20 to 27—it seemed he had grown immensely.

“Thinking back, he’s grown taller, his physique has become more impressive, and he’s trained extensively in swordsmanship.”

She recalled his overwhelming skill when he toyed with and ultimately killed Antonio, his precision both brutal and extraordinary. As memories of her time in Parsion swirled in her mind, a particular figure suddenly came to mind.

“Now that I think about it, Sir Xerox, the vice-captain of the royal knights, used to take care of Kazan.”

Sir Xerox had been a young knight in his late twenties at the time, serving as the vice-captain of the Parsion Royal Knights. Renowned for his exceptional swordsmanship, he enjoyed dueling and teaching others.

“He’s too talented to waste as a slave. I see potential in him,” Sir Xerox had said after witnessing Kazan practicing in secret.

Unlike most knights, Xerox was loyal to the royal family itself rather than to Antonio. He believed that training the princess’s slave boy might one day benefit the royal household.

“Princess, lend him to me for an hour a day. I’ll make something useful of him,” he had cheerfully requested.

Elona had trusted Sir Xerox’s bright and dependable nature. Even Kazan, who was highly wary of others, had been receptive to his guidance.

“Of course, even Sir Xerox couldn’t protect Kazan from Antonio…”

No matter how skilled a knight he was, he still served under Antonio’s authority. He could only stand by passively while Antonio tormented Kazan, unable to actively intervene.

All he could do was call Kazan to him at night, offer words of encouragement, and teach him swordsmanship, playing the role of a kind older brother.

Kazan understood his limitations and appreciated his efforts, just like the rest of us. I wonder what he’s doing now.

After Antonio ascended to the throne, Sir Xerox resigned from the knights not long after. During her years of confinement in the tower, Elona had heard no news of him, other than that he had returned to his hometown.

“I hope he wasn’t caught up in the war. I hope he’s living peacefully back home.”

Elona prayed for his happiness, stirred by the memory of him after so long. Though her life had largely been filled with unhappiness, she could look back and recall a handful of people who had brought her moments of comfort. In Parsion, there had been Sir Xerox and Samira, a female slave. Here in Ashatra, there was Aslan and Miriam.

“Miriam, you’re truly a wonderful person,” Elona said abruptly, lost in thought.

“…Where is this coming from?” Miriam asked, startled, before chuckling in amusement. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she teased, “But starting today, you might not feel the same way about me.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s time for some intense education,” Miriam replied with a cryptic smile as they entered the gates of Mano Palace.

“Education…?”

“Special training, Elona. Starting today, you’ll be learning Ashatra’s royal etiquette, banquet manners, and the virtues expected of someone accompanying the king. And I’ll be learning alongside you.”

“You’re learning too? Isn’t this something you’re teaching me?”

“Nope! There are two reasons for that,” Miriam said, holding up her fingers. “First, I’m a commoner and don’t know all the finer details myself. Second, there’s no one available to teach us, so we’ll have to rely on books.”

“There’s no one? Not even Irid?”

“No. The Pasha family wasn’t originally nobility—they were a commoner family elevated to noble status when His Majesty ascended to the throne. So, Irid doesn’t know either.”