You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 56

“Yes, Your Highness. Lord Zahhak and I simply had a brief conversation. Truly, nothing happened.”

“So, you’re telling me that the great Zahhak Omar came all the way here just to talk to a woman? Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Please, Your Highness. Believe me. I only… wanted to ask her about finding my sister.”

A moment of silence passed.

Finally, Kazan lowered his sword and asked Zahhak, “Is that really why you requested Elona from me? Just to ask her about that?”

“Yes. That was my sole purpose,” Zahhak replied, sliding his dagger back into its sheath.

With a somber tone, he added, “And now, my business here is finished. My sister… she died in Pharsion, Your Highness.”

His voice was heavy, weighed down by grief.

Kazan stared silently at Zahhak, who had bowed his head, and then let out a deep sigh.

“Leave. And never set foot here again.”

“I will not forget Your Highness’s mercy,” Zahhak said as he knelt, paying his respects before quickly departing.

Once he was gone, Elona turned to Kazan, who was in the midst of putting away his sword.

“Kazan, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Is there something else I don’t know?” he asked, his gaze skeptical as it landed on her.

Elona nodded resolutely.

“Yes. It’s about Samira.”

Antonio, Samira, Zahhak—she had to explain it all to Kazan.

Only she could do it.

*

It was the first time Elona found herself in Kazan’s quarters during broad daylight. She locked all the doors and windows before recounting the story of Samira to him.

Kazan sat in a chair, silently listening to her words.

“…And that’s how Samira died that night.”

As Elona finished her story, she cautiously studied Kazan’s face. His expression remained calm and unreadable.

Hesitating for a moment, she asked, “Kazan, did you already know that my brother killed Samira?”

“No, not at all. I wasn’t with Samira at the time. This is the first I’ve heard about her being murdered that night.”

“…I see. Then did you know that Samira and Zahhak Omar were siblings?”

“I knew. Ever since our time in Pharsion.”

His short, clipped response made her heart sink. It was a feeling not unlike the shock she’d experienced upon learning that Kazan was a prince.

“Samira… she never told me anything like that,” Elona murmured.

“It was a secret,” Kazan replied simply. “Samira realized that I was a prince of Ashatra, and after that, she confided her identity to me as well. We kept each other’s secrets.”

Elona wanted to ask, Why keep it a secret from me too? But she stopped herself, pressing her lips shut.

Kazan and Samira must have known I was powerless and indecisive. They couldn’t rely on someone like me.

The truth was, Kazan had chosen not to reveal his identity to her because he didn’t want Pharsion to become entangled in Ashatra’s civil war. But Elona had no way of knowing that. All she could remember was what he had said to her on her first day in the palace:

“If you’d known I was a prince, would you have run away with me? Would you have rushed into the underground prison that night to save my life?”

The bitterness in his voice, the cutting sarcasm—it was still fresh in her memory.

As Elona lowered her eyes, Kazan, still looking away, spoke again.

“Samira…”

He paused.

“She took pride in being the only one who knew my identity. She tried to persuade me several times. She wanted us to run away together to Ashatra.”

There were so many sides to Samira that Elona had never known.

“She liked you,” Elona muttered bitterly.

“Yes,” Kazan replied without hesitation.

But after a brief moment, as if bothered by how his words might sound, he added, “I never accepted her feelings.”

The unexpected clarification caught Elona off guard, and she looked at him in surprise.

Why would he bother explaining that to me?

When their eyes met, Kazan quickly changed the subject.

“So, was that why you had that conversation with Zahhak earlier? What you told him doesn’t seem like something he’d easily let slide.”

“I lied,” Elona admitted cautiously.

“I told him Samira died from illness. I was afraid he’d hold a grudge against me if he found out my brother killed her…”

“That’s likely,” Kazan said with a nod. “That’s Ashatra’s law, after all. But I’m surprised you anticipated that much.”

“Actually, earlier today, I went to Lord Aslan to seek his advice. I asked whether it would be safe to tell Zahhak the truth… and he said that if Zahhak found out, he would try to kill me.”

At the mention of Aslan’s name, Kazan’s expression turned icy.

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I decided to ask yesterday, but you were at the temple last night.”

“…Hmph.”

Kazan’s dissatisfaction was clear. He averted his gaze from her and stood up.

“If you ever want to learn more about anyone around you,” he said just as he was about to leave the room, “don’t ask Aslan or Miriam—ask me. Miriam’s trustworthy, but she’s not fully aware of the situation in Perma yet.”

“…Alright, I’ll do that. Thank you.”

Kazan didn’t explain why Elona shouldn’t ask Aslan. She wanted to know why he harbored such dislike for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Maybe I’ll find out naturally someday. Whatever happened between the two of them.

Not wanting to provoke him, she let him leave without further questioning.

The sound of his footsteps echoed down the hallway, brisk and hurried, as if he were in a rush to get away.

*

On his way back to the main palace, Kazan swiftly organized his thoughts, outlining the tasks he needed to address.

“I need to investigate exactly how much Zahhak Omar discovered in Pharsion. Who he met, what he uncovered—I need every detail.”

He planned to assign this discreet mission to Tortan. If anyone could handle it without causing a stir, it was Tortan.

“Zahhak knew Samira was Elona’s slave. That means he might have also learned that I was her slave too.”

That knowledge alone could lead to political trouble. Depending on Zahhak’s intentions, Kazan’s past could be weaponized, tarnishing his claim to the throne. If such rumors spread, the only way to silence them completely would be for Kazan to personally execute Elona.

“I need to determine how much Zahhak knows. Only then can I prepare for the worst.”

Thankfully, Elona’s quick thinking had averted disaster. If she had revealed the truth about Samira’s brutal murder, Elona would likely already be dead, and Zahhak would be on his way back to Pharsion, leaving a bloodbath in his wake.

“Samira’s secret must remain buried. Zahhak was desperate enough to steal a sacred relic from the Zahira temple just to find her. If someone so reckless were to learn the truth and direct his wrath toward Elona… I’d have no choice but to kill him.”

The large scar on Zahhak’s face was a reminder of the punishment he received at eighteen for attempting to steal that relic. Kazan understood Zahhak’s desperation, but he couldn’t sympathize with it.

What mattered most to Kazan now was protecting the kingdom—and ensuring nothing jeopardized his position of power.

“Samira never told me that…”

Elona’s sorrowful expression resurfaced in his mind, drawing a bitter smile from him.

To be disappointed simply because Samira didn’t reveal her identity? She really is soft and naive.

Kazan’s thoughts turned darker.

“How disgusting. Elona thought she was being kind, but she never even considered us as equals. She’s proud of herself, thinking she’s performing some act of charity. It’s nothing more than self-satisfaction.”

The truth was, Samira had never viewed Elona as her benefactor. She hadn’t admired or liked her—in fact, she had despised her.