You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 59

“My apologies, Your Highness. But that incident is long behind us—”

“Return to your seat,” Kazan interrupted coldly. “There are others waiting to speak with me.”

With no other choice, Irid bowed and retreated. She could do nothing but maintain a strained smile to give the impression that her conversation with the king had gone smoothly.

Elona, meanwhile, glanced at Kazan. His demeanor toward Irid had grown far colder than she remembered, and… strangely, he seemed almost kinder to her.

“…That’s just wishful thinking. Kazan probably just doesn’t want to get tangled up with Irid.”

Elona had another reason to dismiss the thought. As the crowd of nobles swirled around Kazan, countless rumors and speculations reached her ears.

“Oh, Irid Padisha really is the most beautiful woman in Ashatra. I’ll have to attend every banquet in Perma from now on.”

“It’s odd that their family hasn’t entertained any marriage proposals. Do you think she has a secret lover?”

“Well, a chancellor’s daughter wouldn’t be easily impressed by most men. Besides, isn’t her family deeply tied to His Highness?”

“So, the rumors were true? She’d make the perfect match for the king. I wonder why he hasn’t married her yet.”

The idle chatter floated around like dust on the wind, impossible to trace back to its source. Elona sat quietly, listening to the murmurs about Kazan’s future marriage.

“It’s nothing to feel sad or disappointed about. It’s the natural order of things.”

If Kazan were to keep her, a mere slave, instead of marrying, it would only cause bigger problems. Fortunately, no child had come of their relationship, but if she were to become pregnant, it would be a disaster.

“Even if she bears my child, it will have no place in Ashatra’s future.”

Kazan had made that declaration on the day he first introduced Elona to the royal court. Only now did she fully grasp the meaning of his words.

“My child wouldn’t belong to the royal family. It would be an illegitimate child.”

The thought was horrifying. To bring a child into the world as the illegitimate offspring of a slave was unthinkable. She didn’t want to pass such a painful status onto her own child.

Grinding her teeth, Elona suppressed the surge of emotion rising in her chest.

“I have to leave this place before that happens. Tonight. It has to be tonight.”

Elona absentmindedly fiddled with the cloth bag beside her. Inside it were the stolen jewels, the robe, and everything else she had painstakingly prepared for her escape.

*

“How annoying.”

Kazan drank yet another glass of wine, his irritation mounting. Rabina’s atmosphere was starkly different from Perma’s. While Perma’s nobles were careful with their words, the nobles here—far removed from the capital—were much less reserved. If this had been Perma, any discussion of royal marriage in his presence would have led to immediate consequences.

“But with so many people, constantly changing faces, it’s impossible to reprimand every single one.”

He reminded himself that this was someone else’s celebration. Kazan restrained himself, only rebuking those who directly questioned him while ignoring the endless chatter in the background. Most of it was nonsense spewed by drunkards anyway.

Still, the whispers weren’t what truly bothered him.

“But why… why is Elona…”

Kazan glanced sideways at Elona, who sat silently beside him. She, too, must have heard the gossip about his potential marriage. And yet, she remained composed, her expression unchanging.

Her calm demeanor grated on him. He studied her face, but there wasn’t even the slightest flicker of emotion in her eyes.

“She doesn’t care at all… about my marriage or my future.”

His chest tightened with frustration. Elona had once vowed absolute loyalty, but now she acted as if she was indifferent to whatever he did.

“Would she remain this indifferent if I were holding another woman in my arms?”

He let out a sigh and placed his empty glass on the table. Elona noticed and quickly refilled it for him.

What he wanted from her wasn’t another drink, but he couldn’t find the words to express it. Feeling trapped in his own irritation, he shifted his gaze and caught sight of Zahhak in the distance. As usual, Zahhak was surrounded by women, laughing and carousing without a care in the world.

“Your Highness, thank you for gracing us with your presence,” a voice interrupted his thoughts.

The bride and groom—now dressed in simpler formal attire—stood before him, their faces glowing with happiness.

Kazan straightened himself, masking his irritation as he offered his congratulations.

“Marriage is a sacred bond. May Kalima bless your union and bring glory to your families. In the name of Sindar, I offer you my blessing.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. The Horta family will remain eternally loyal to the royal house of Milleshatra,” the groom replied, bowing deeply.

After expressing their gratitude several times, the newlyweds moved on to greet other nobles.

As the attention of the room shifted toward the couple, Elona turned to Kazan and quietly asked,

“What will happen to us?”

Kazan glanced at her. She wasn’t looking at him but at the bride and groom, her gaze fixed as she continued,

“After you get married… what will happen to me? A queen wouldn’t tolerate someone like me, would she?”

Something about her tone and the matter-of-fact way she asked left Kazan feeling an inexplicable pang of betrayal.

With a sharp voice, he answered, “That won’t happen.”

“Why? A royal marriage is your duty.”

“That’s none of your concern. Don’t think about it.”

His words drew a clear line, his tone curt and final. Elona fell silent, her expression unreadable.

Kazan couldn’t shake the sense that he had said something wrong, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

As more nobles began approaching him again, Elona withdrew further into silence.

Frustrated and unable to pinpoint why, Kazan continued drinking. Whether it was the alcohol or his simmering anger, his chest felt hot and heavy, almost suffocating.

It was around 3 a.m., and the banquet was still in full swing.

Elona noticed the redness in Kazan’s ears and the slightly unfocused look in his eyes.

“He’s drunk… and maybe a little tired, too.”

An elderly nobleman was delivering a long-winded speech to Kazan, who appeared to be barely listening. Elona saw her opportunity.

“Excuse me for a moment, Your Highness,” she murmured, gesturing discreetly toward the restroom.

Kazan waved his hand lazily, granting her permission. He seemed relieved to have a moment’s reprieve from the endless line of nobles vying for his attention.

“First, I need to change.”

Elona veered away from the path to the restroom and headed toward a small building tucked into a corner of the garden. She slipped behind an inconspicuous wall and pulled the robe she had hidden in her bag—a robe from the Temple of Ru.

She shed her pale ivory dress and carefully hid it among the bushes. The inside of the robe felt bare and loose, but her movements became far easier without the cumbersome gown.

“Good. If I cover my face with the veil, no one will recognize me.”

She wrapped her face in a white veil, leaving only her eyes visible. Gone was the beautiful noblewoman—what remained now was a simple priestess of Ru who had attended the wedding.

With her disguise complete, Elona blended into the crowd of general attendees, slipping through the bustling exits unnoticed. None of the countless people milling about paid her any mind.

“Did I… succeed?”

She had escaped the wedding. Elona could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she hurried toward the castle gates. The long hem of her robe occasionally tripped her steps, but it successfully concealed her pale skin.

After running for what felt like ages, she finally stopped to catch her breath, pulling the hood of the robe low over her face.

Before her stood the castle gates, and next to them, a bustling horse market.

“Good, now I just need to buy a horse and ride out of the gates!”

She reached into her bag to feel the small trinkets and silver utensils she had brought to trade for a horse. Just as she prepared herself mentally, someone grabbed the back of her neck.

“Ah!”

A powerful hand yanked her into a shadowy alleyway. The sudden pull tightened the hood of her robe, choking her briefly as her vision blurred.

“Ugh, kuh…!”

Elona gasped and coughed, only for a large hand to slam her against the wall. One hand covered her mouth roughly, while the other gripped her neck, pressing her firmly against the cold stone.

She struggled in panic, but the grip around her throat only tightened.

“Going somewhere, Princess?”

The voice was low and menacing, tinged with a sharp edge of danger.

Through the curtain of her fear, Elona caught a glimpse of silvery hair and her heart sank. Slowly, she looked up into the violet eyes burning with a dark and unsettling intensity.

Zahhak.

Her wide, tear-filled eyes betrayed her panic as he leaned in, his voice a chilling whisper.

“Now, once again, answer me properly.”

“Mmmpf…”

“Did Samira… really die of illness?”

Elona’s heart pounded so violently that she thought it might burst. Zahhak kept his hand firmly over her mouth, giving her no chance to speak.

He knows.

He had figured it all out.

“How dare you lie to me?” Zahhak hissed, his voice dropping even lower. “Speak. Tell me, clearly and truthfully—how did my sister die?”

“Mm…!”

Zahhak finally pulled his hand away from her mouth, but his grip around her neck tightened mercilessly. Elona gasped for air, clawing at his hand as she choked out,

“I… I didn’t… kill her…”

“Of course not. It was all your brother’s doing, wasn’t it?” Zahhak growled, his voice shaking with fury. “Why? Tell me why. You know the truth, don’t you?”

Why?

Tears streamed down Elona’s face as she thrashed weakly against his grasp.

Antonio had killed Samira because…

“Father. Princess Elona conspired with the slave Kazan to orchestrate his escape—and she even tried to take my life in the process.”

The night after Kazan and Samira were killed, Antonio brazenly framed Elona.

Standing before the king, he lied without hesitation, weaving a false narrative that placed all blame on her.

He claimed that Elona had used the slave Samira to orchestrate Kazan’s escape and even ordered him to assassinate Antonio himself.

“Punishing two mere slaves would have been a simple matter, one I could have handled with my own strength,” Antonio declared, his tone righteous. “But for the princess to conspire in such treachery… that, Your Majesty, is an act of unforgivable rebellion.”