I Tamed the Slave Male Lead – Chapter 41

Author: isuzuuy

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“We’ve arrived, My lady.”

Arabella woke from her sleep with a frown at the voice coming from the coachman’s seat.

It had been a long time since she had slept so deeply. It had been barely an hour at most, but for someone as sensitive as her, who always slept lightly, it was a rare occurrence.

‘I wonder if dying feels this peaceful.’

Savoring the sweet aftertaste of sleep, she remained slumped inside the carriage for a few more minutes.

‘I feel like I had some kind of dream.’

A strange sorrow welled up in one corner of her otherwise calm heart. Just like after crying for a long time.

‘It was probably just a meaningless dream. It’s not as if nightmares are anything new.’

She had dreamed of her own death so often that it had become a habit. Ever since she learned that she was terminally ill, it had always been that way.

“…Ugh. I should get out.”

Thud.

Dragging her body, heavy as soaked cotton, out of the carriage, she found the surroundings noisier than hell itself.

“Strong labor slave! Looking for a strong labor slave? Sturdy lower body, too! Come over and have a feel!”

“Beautiful southern woman from Manoruk for sale!”

“Slave swordsman, former mercenary! We’ll even put on a swordsmanship demonstration!”

This was the slave market on the outskirts of the capital. On both sides of the dirt-covered main road, mobile iron-cage prisons filled with slaves stretched as far as the eye could see.

Despite it being early spring, the day was hot. Arabella, who was weak against the heat, sighed at the blazing sunlight and opened her parasol. Blue veins stood out clearly along her slender arm as she struggled to hold it up.

As Arabella staggered along, sweating coldly, slave merchants approached her one after another.

Miss, what kind of slave are you looking for? A man? A woman? Just tell me what you want, and I’ll find one that suits your tastes perfectly. Take a look before you go. I only deal in the finest slaves!

She waved them away with a feeble gesture, as though swatting away gnats. Though she was wearing a plain dress, perhaps because of the unmistakable air of nobility about her, the merchants did not cling to her for long before backing off.

“Where am I even supposed to start looking?”

Arabella muttered helplessly as she stared at the endless rows of iron cages.

‘If not for the Crown Prince’s request, I wouldn’t have had any reason to come to a place like this.’

Arabella thought of Sota, who had summoned her to the secret archives of the Imperial Library and showered her with sweet words.

‘You certainly know how to make good use of me.’

Step. Step.

She walked on listlessly, thinking.

‘And even though I know perfectly well that you’re using me, I have no choice but to play along. Why is my life always so pathetic?’

Sota would often ask her for various favors or try to persuade her to do things. And he always summoned her to some secret place where they were completely alone.

‘Even though you know how desperate my situation is… What a cruel man.’

Yet whenever they encountered each other in public, he always completely ignored her, as though nothing had ever happened between them.

Even last night, she had dragged her ailing body to the party after hearing that he would be there. Yet he had been surrounded by Regita’s friends and had not even spared Arabella a glance.

‘It’s even more miserable that he doesn’t bother hiding his attitude. I suppose I’m not even worth the effort.’

There was an indescribable misery in knowing she was being toyed with and still being unable to rebel even once.

Arabella began dragging her feet along without even bothering to look into the cages on either side.

Suddenly, everything felt so futile.

‘Do I really have to live this badly…?’

A life spent suffering from inexplicable fevers and pain every single day. A life spent accommodating a frail body that could barely tolerate even a walk through the backyard, let alone sitting quietly at a desk to study.

But more than anything, what tormented her was loneliness.

On nights when she woke up crying after suffering through a fever and nightmares, she desperately longed for a single hand beside her that would stroke her forehead and tell her that everything was all right.

Every time she collapsed, deathly pale, if only there were one hand that would lift her up with genuine concern instead of sighing, ‘Here we go again.’ Just one person would have been enough.

‘My family would probably be relieved if I died. They’d say they had finally gotten rid of their troublesome burden.’

Ever since her father, Roderick, died, she had constantly felt as though she had been left alone in the world.

Her mother, Melesa, had never once looked Arabella straight in the eyes after she came to the capital. It was as though she feared that if she looked at the ghost from her nightmares, she would be cursed.

Her younger brother, Lucas, had never seen her before, and when she suddenly appeared as his older sister, he was extremely uncomfortable around her. And Arabella, too, found it difficult to deal with a younger brother who had been raised differently, treated as precious, and so she always treated him with a stiff expression.

Her uncle Graham openly treated her like a burden, but in a way, that was easier. It meant she could hate her uncle as much as she wanted, too.

It wasn’t only her family who felt uncomfortable around her. The classmates who had attended the academy with her regarded Arabella, who stubbornly clung to her studies despite her frail body, as a strange person and gossiped about her.

She had even heard that some nobles in high society placed bets on when she would die.

‘How… can there really not be a single person who wants me to exist in this world?’

Whenever she began thinking that way, it soon became difficult to breathe, as though her lungs were being crushed. Her entire body grew unbearably heavy, as if she were sinking into the depths of the sea.

‘Is it really right for me to struggle this desperately just to survive?’

The curse of House Mayona dictated that one person from every generation had to die. Suppose she struggled desperately to escape the curse and managed to survive. Wouldn’t her younger brother, Lucas, then become the sacrifice in her place?

She hated herself for clinging so desperately to life. She was sick of this dreadful obsession with survival.

But the hope for things she had never once been able to hold in her hands was far too powerful to give up.

She pictured herself somehow entering the Imperial Palace, obtaining the elixir, and becoming perfectly healthy.

She imagined herself living proudly, surrounded by family and friends, flaunting her wealth, honor, and beauty. Merely picturing it sent an excitement so intense through her that it made her bones tingle.

And that desperate desire was far stronger than her shame and self-loathing.

Arabella forced herself to summon some strength and began looking into each of the cages on either side.

‘Silver hair and dark red eyes. Silver hair and dark red eyes…’

Repeating the only clue Sota had given her, she searched every corner of the slave market. Yet even after wandering around until she could no longer feel her legs, no such slave caught her eye.

She did find one male slave with silver hair, but his eyes were not dark red, nor was there anything particularly special about him.

‘You’ll know when you see that slave. That he’s the one I’m telling you to bring back.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘That’s all I can tell you, Arabella.’

Sota had merely dropped cryptic hints, as though he had some ulterior motive.

‘Could this be some kind of test? Is he trying to see whether I have the discernment to identify someone useful?’

Lost in thought as she walked, the sunlight grew hotter, and the feeling in her legs gradually disappeared. People in the crowd carelessly bumped into her shoulder as they passed.

At some point, when she had lost herself in her thoughts, a large man shoved her with his shoulder, sending her tumbling to the side of the road.

“Ah…!”

Her parasol rolled away.

Thrown onto the dirt-covered road, she could not even lift herself up and simply curled into herself. She felt something hot trickling down her face.

Drip. Drip.

Several tiny red circles formed on the dirt beneath her.

They were drops of blood from her nose.

‘Of all places, I had to make a pathetic spectacle of myself here.’

Her eyes were foolishly filled with tears. When she realized that she had forgotten to bring even a handkerchief, she felt even more helpless.

She bit her lips tightly to keep herself from crying and was about to wipe the blood from her nose with the back of her hand when—

Riiip.

“Here.”

A hand holding a piece of cloth suddenly appeared before her.

As if it had descended from the heavens or risen from the earth.

“……”

“Wipe it.”

The owner of the hand spoke calmly.

It was a large, sturdy-looking hand. Following it to its owner’s face, Arabella slowly blinked.

Silver hair.

And dark red eyes.

The man she had been searching for was right before her eyes.

Trapped inside the cage, he was holding out a shabby piece of cloth that looked as though it had been torn from his own shirt.

“……”

Without a word, she accepted the piece of cloth and wiped her face. Feeling the blood soak into the fabric, she quietly examined the man before her.

His face and body were smeared with mud, leaving him in a terrible state. The woman crouching beside him was in the same condition.

Upon closer inspection, Arabella realized why they looked like that.

They had deliberately ruined their own appearances.

Because they were unnaturally beautiful.

Especially the man who had handed her the piece of cloth. His appearance was truly extraordinary. Perhaps that was why she found it so difficult to take her eyes off him.

“Get up.”

At that moment, he reached his hand through the bars of the cage. Apparently, he thought she was unable to stand because she lacked the strength.

When she took his hand as if entranced, he pulled her to her feet effortlessly, without even seeming to exert much strength.

“Surely you didn’t come here alone. You should call your servant and ask for assistance.”

He seemed to have recognized at a glance that Arabella was a noblewoman.

His hand was still holding hers, damp with cold sweat. As though he were worried that she might collapse again if he let go.

In that instant, Arabella became certain.

This man was the one she had been looking for.

No—the quarter-elf.

At the same time, a stifling pain spread throughout her heart.

Just as it had when she had first awakened from her sleep earlier.

Smack.