You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 64

The empty main palace, with no scheduled events, was eerily quiet. Elona wandered through the garden, reflecting on the story Aslan had shared.

Kazan has never told me anything about his family. Not about his parents, nor his siblings.

“Aslan warned me not to ask others about them, especially His Majesty,” she thought. Perhaps it was best to wait for Kazan to bring it up himself.

How did he endure the civil war? she wondered, imagining what he must have gone through. Then, a realization struck her.

His parents and siblings are all gone. Kazan is the sole survivor of the Milleshatra royal family… just as I am the only surviving member of the Parsion royal family.

It was not a desirable commonality. Like her, Kazan was utterly alone, with no family to rely on.

Doesn’t he feel lonely? I’ve been lonely ever since my mother passed away when I was a child….

From a young age, Elona had always yearned for a place she could truly call home. Not the Parsion royal palace, but somewhere she could live happily, surrounded by people who genuinely cared for her.

Is Kazan satisfied with his current life? Does he even want a family?

As she pondered his possible feelings with a hint of sadness, she saw Miriam approaching at the end of the path. Oddly, Miriam looked anxious, even though they had just parted ways at the palace entrance not long ago.

“Miriam? What’s wrong?”

“Elona, there’s something urgent I need to confirm. Please come with me,” Miriam said briskly.

When Elona hesitated, Miriam stepped closer and lowered her voice.

“We found something strange while packing your belongings in the Manor Palace.”

“Strange?” Elona asked, alarmed. Had they discovered that she had stolen items in preparation for her escape during the wedding? Panic flashed across her face, but Miriam leaned in and whispered even more quietly,

“Elona, have you had your monthly cycle this month?”

“W-What?”

The unexpected question threw her off completely. Elona paused, calculating in her head.

“…It’s about two weeks late.”

The two women exchanged a meaningful glance. Miriam, trying her best to remain composed, gently took Elona’s hand.

“Let’s visit the royal physician, just to make sure. It’s better to confirm now.”

Elona nodded numbly, her mind spinning. It seemed like the wisest course of action.

Just in case….

*

The Omar family’s grand estate resembled the old royal palace in its design. Unlike the current palace, built with golden bricks and adorned with jewels and marble, the estate was constructed of white bricks with rugged wooden and stone decorations, giving it a stark, old-fashioned charm.

It’s certainly antique, but I don’t like it much, Irrith thought as she stepped into the estate’s main hall.

Zahhak, dressed in a lavish golden robe, greeted her with a charming smile.

“Right on time, Irrith Padisha.”

“Please, spare the formality, Lord Zahhak. Isn’t this our first private meeting?”

“You could loosen up as well,” he replied lightly. “Though, of course, I’m much older and of far higher status.”

Irrith frowned, annoyed. He wasn’t that much older—only four years her senior. While the Omar family’s prestige was higher, they were still technically equals as nobles.

“Fine. Let’s skip the niceties. I’d rather head straight to dinner—I’m starving,” she said, choosing to let his jab slide.

Satisfied, Zahhak offered his arm to escort her, his practiced ease with women on full display. Though she was wary of his infamous reputation, she couldn’t deny that his attentiveness was pleasant.

If only His Majesty would treat me like this, she thought with a sigh.

She had been banned from entering the main palace for days now. The king had even taken that cursed slave princess into his most private quarters.

“That slave princess,” Zahhak began, breaking the silence as they sat down at the dining table. He casually poured wine into her glass before continuing.

“Seems she’s destined to become queen, judging by the way things are going.”

“…Nonsense,” Irrith scoffed, gripping her glass tightly. “Even if she were an innocent Parsion commoner, there would be opposition. But she’s a member of their royal family. The people would revolt! His Majesty would never make such a foolish decision.”

“Oh, Irrith. Your thinking is still so… provincial.” Zahhak chuckled as if she were a naive child. Irrith’s irritation deepened, her brows furrowing. Sensing her displeasure, Zahhak smiled indulgently, like an older sibling trying to calm an upset younger one.

“Listen, Irrith. You’re a noble now. It’s time to shed those commoner-like thoughts. What can the common people really do?”

“I’m not wrong,” she shot back. “The people still despise Parsions. The war only ended recently, and—”

“Exactly. The war ended. And we won.”

Irrith stared at him, momentarily confused. Zahhak picked at the fruit on his plate, speaking with an air of nonchalance.

“If we’d lost the war or gained nothing from it, then of course no one would even suggest making a Parsion woman queen. But we didn’t just win; we utterly crushed them. Their nation is in ruins. So, what’s the next step?”

“Annex their territory and start collecting taxes,” she replied automatically.

“Exactly. But do you think it will go smoothly from the beginning? Of course not. There will be resistance. Uprisings will spring up for decades, all in the name of rebuilding Parsion.”

“Then we’ll need to persuade them to submit….” Irrith trailed off as the realization hit her.

Zahhak grinned knowingly, as if waiting for her to catch up. “If the queen is a Parsion princess, it paints a picture of unity, doesn’t it? It gives the impression of reconciliation. Whether or not she has any political skill is irrelevant.”

Irrith was momentarily speechless. She hadn’t considered such a political dynamic before. Could that powerless woman truly hold such significance?

Trying to maintain her composure, she replied, “Even so, there are plenty of nobles who oppose their relationship—”

“And that’s because I’ve already cleared out most of the elements that could incite a rebellion in Parsion,” Zahhak interrupted, leaning back leisurely. “Right now, things are peaceful, so all those complaints about decorum can still be made.”

Zahhak lifted his glass of white liquor with a casual shrug.

“Give it a few months, and the seeds of rebellion will inevitably sprout again. Our soldiers will keep dying in Parsion. By that point, the hardline measures will start losing favor, and the moderate approach will gain more traction. Just marrying that Parsion princess would be enough to calm public unrest. Why stir up rebellion by killing her unnecessarily?”

Irrith had no response. The lavish dishes laid out before her failed to awaken her appetite. She stared at the table, her voice heavy.

“So? Did you bring me all the way here just to tell me that she’ll become queen?”

Zahhak noticed her sour mood and leaned in slightly, his voice lowering.

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

The obvious answer was yes, but her pride stopped her from admitting it. Instead, she pressed her lips together and glared at the goat meat dish in front of her. Zahhak, speaking more intimately now, added,

“I don’t think it should happen.”

“What are you…?”

“Practicality is one thing,” Zahhak said, his tone calm but sharp. “But no matter how you spin it, she’s still a Parsion.”

He picked up a carving knife and handed it to her. The moment Irrith grasped the knife, he murmured softly,

“Blood must be paid for with blood.”

Irrith froze, staring at him. The playful smirk he had worn all evening was gone, replaced by a chilling, emotionless expression. In Zahhak’s face, she saw something she had never even seen in Kazan during the civil war: a vengeful spirit.

This man wanted Parsion blood—desperately. Despite the countless lives already lost in the war, his hatred hadn’t waned.

Irrith didn’t know the exact reason behind Zahhak’s animosity toward Elona, nor did she care to find out. All that mattered was that their goals aligned.

“Are you planning to kill her, Zahhak Omar?”

A slow smile crept across his face, his expression one of satisfaction. It was the question he had been waiting for.

“Help me, Irrith,” he said smoothly. “And I’ll give you everything you desire.”