You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 82

She approached him, holding young Kazan’s hand—just as she had in his dream the night before. Aslan froze, sensing an ominous air, just as Rité spoke.

“Aslan, you saw this moment in your dream, didn’t you?”

He was struck speechless. If Rité had the same dream, it meant that today was a crossroads of fate for her.

Life or death.

Aslan bowed his head in confusion, and Rité continued.

“I had the same dream. Today, we stand at the threshold of life and death. Isn’t that right?”

“…Don’t say another word. Please.”

It was a futile resistance. The fateful moment, the instant she would utter that sacrilegious request, was inevitable.

Rité smiled faintly, her eyes filled with a kind of pity.

“Aslan, why do you look like you’re about to cry? Have you seen how our story ends?”

Aslan nodded silently, his gaze lowering to where the fire had begun in her dress in the dream. But when he looked down, his eyes met Kazan’s anxious gaze. The child’s expression was full of uncertainty and fear.

Rité took a deep breath and spoke.

“My fate isn’t decided yet. So, Aslan, I have one request for you.”

He prayed she wouldn’t say it, but she did.

“Take us to where the relic of Lu is.”

Aslan closed his eyes tightly. The wheel of fate had begun to turn. As the High Priest of Lu, he shook his head firmly.

“No. It’s forbidden.”

“I know it’s a terrible request. But it’s the only way we can survive.”

“You can’t, Rité! If you try to change fate that way…”

“Aslan, please! Doesn’t the fact that we appeared in your dream mean there’s a chance we could survive? Even if we’re cursed for taking the relic, we might still miraculously live.”

“I want you to live more than anyone! But I can’t lead you down a path of damnation. If I do…”

Aslan imagined Rité engulfed in flames again and felt tears well up in his eyes. But Rité took his hand and squeezed it firmly, her voice unwavering.

“Don’t worry, Aslan. In the end, the choice will be made by the god of Lu.”

It was a saying Aslan knew well. Water and life—all things were decided by the will of Lu. Human intervention was meaningless.

“…Follow me.”

In the end, Aslan gave in to his heart. He had never loved anyone in his life, but Rité was different. He had always thought that if the god of Lu ever descended in human form, she would look just like Rité. He couldn’t refuse her desperate plea.

“Aslan.”

It was Kazan who spoke for the first time as they slipped into the underground passage beneath the temple, hiding from prying eyes.

“Aslan, is this really okay?”

The closer they got to the relic, the more anxious Kazan became. Aslan glanced at him with sorrowful eyes. He had always adored Kazan like a younger brother. But perhaps this child would die today, too.

“Keep moving, Your Highness. We don’t have time.”

“But… I heard that everyone who touches the relic is cursed.”

Kazan stubbornly stopped in his tracks. Rité tried to calm him down, but it wasn’t enough. Time was running out.

In the end, Aslan decided to play the villain.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. Neither of you will be cursed.”

“But earlier, you said we’d be cursed.”

“I did. But Lady Rité is right. In the end, all choices belong to the god of Lu. The god will surely protect you both. The god loves her.”

It was a lie. Rité had lost her divine power the moment she left the temple. The god had let her go, releasing her into the world of mortals. The god no longer loved her.

But Kazan believed Aslan’s words. Aslan had never lied to him before.

“Let’s go, Kazan.”

Rité gently took her son’s hand and led him forward. The boy glanced up at Aslan with trusting eyes. Aslan couldn’t bear to look at him and instead strode ahead, his steps firm and determined.

At last, they reached the deepest sanctuary of the Temple of Lu. Aslan pressed a symbol carved into the wall, and a hidden door swung open, revealing a secret chamber.

The room was far from what one might expect of a sanctuary—it felt neglected, almost forgotten. As they entered, blue flames flickered to life in the wall-mounted sconces, casting an eerie glow. In the center of the room, atop a waist-high stone altar, rested a golden chalice.

“The Chalice of Hearts.”

Rité recognized it immediately and stepped inside first. When Aslan tried to follow, she raised her hand to stop him.

“Aslan, stay there. If you come in, you’ll be caught up in this as well.”

Kazan followed his mother to the altar and stared at the golden chalice in fascination. Inside the empty vessel, three crimson circles were engraved on its inner surface.

“Look, Kazan,” Rité whispered softly as she lifted the chalice with both hands.

As soon as her fingers touched it, clear water began to fill the empty cup. Kazan watched in wonder as the water rose, his curiosity momentarily eclipsing his fear. Rité gazed at her son’s innocent face for a moment, then raised the chalice to her lips.

Aslan watched with bated breath as she tilted the massive chalice, drinking slowly. After a brief pause, she lowered the cup and held it out to Kazan. The water inside remained full, shimmering under the flickering blue flames.

“Drink it, all of it. Slowly.”

Kazan studied his mother’s serene expression, then obediently took the chalice. Without hesitation, he drained the water, not leaving a single drop.

The moment his lips parted from the rim, the golden chalice crumbled into black dust, disintegrating in his hands. Its role as a divine artifact had ended.
But the chalice wasn’t the only thing that had fulfilled its purpose.

“Ah…!”

Rité clutched her chest and collapsed. Kazan cried out, rushing to embrace her, but her body slumped lifelessly against the altar.

“Lady Rité! What’s happening…?”

Aslan hurried to her side and caught her in his arms. His eyes widened in horror as he saw blue vine-like markings spreading across her neck—the unmistakable mark of Lu’s curse. It was the price for stealing the divine relic. But the curse was spreading far too quickly.

“Why…? She drank the Heart’s Water! This shouldn’t be happening so fast…!”

Rité shook her head weakly, reaching for Kazan. Aslan finally understood everything.

“You didn’t drink a single drop, did you? You gave all three hearts to Kazan…”

“I’m sorry, Aslan.”

“Why…”

Aslan’s voice trembled. He couldn’t understand her choice. There were three hearts. They could have shared them. One of them would have been cursed, perhaps unable to live long, but they could have survived together.

“Why did you do this…?”

Tears streamed down Aslan’s cheeks. He had always wished for her to live a long, happy life. But Rité smiled faintly and whispered,

“Now Kazan will live a long life. Like Ashad, the great king of Lu. All three hearts belong to him now.”

Rité took a deep breath and forced herself to stand, her body trembling. She was still alive, though barely.

“The curse… it’s all mine.”

Aslan bent down and hoisted her onto his back. They couldn’t stay in the sanctuary any longer. If anyone discovered the relic was gone, both Rité and Kazan would be executed.

As they escaped, Kazan clung to Aslan’s cloak.

“Aslan, is my mother going to die?”

“Your Highness…”

“She’s dying because of me, isn’t she?”

Aslan’s heart clenched painfully. He couldn’t bring himself to respond and hurried out of the sanctuary in silence.

When he finally looked back, Kazan was still standing at the entrance, his tear-filled red eyes locked on Aslan with an expression full of betrayal and grief.