Chapter 8
The stone walls were cold and damp. The moss-covered floor was slippery, and the smell of the underground filled the air. Knox was sitting on the floor, facing the iron bars. He had no idea how many days had passed since he was dragged into the dungeon.
His arms, chained and bound behind his back, had long since gone numb. He could barely feel them now. His shoulders ached, and the cold floor sent shivers through him.
Creak—
As he twisted his shoulders, now dulled to the sensation, the cell door opened and knights entered, holding ropes and cloth.
“Stay still.”
They commanded Knox in a tone he hadn’t heard since his mother was alive. Knox found the absurdity of his situation amusing and let out a short laugh. This caused them to frown openly.
Thud!
One of the knights struck Knox in the face. His head snapped to the side, and the taste of blood filled his mouth. With a stoic expression, Knox spat the blood-mixed saliva onto the floor. The knights then blindfolded him and unchained him.
“He still thinks he’s a noble.”
They began binding his arms tightly with rough, hard ropes. Knox stood still, not resisting. The thought of resisting and dying on the spot crossed his mind, but he doubted they would kill him even if he resisted.
If they intended to kill him, they would have done so already. He began to walk, led by the knights, unable to see where he was going. But it was obvious. He knew whose possession he had become since that day.
They climbed stairs. Soon, he felt the wind. They had come outside. Knox was thrown into a carriage, and he began to think.
‘Why did that child ask for me?’
It seemed too persistent for an old grudge. Did he want to keep Knox close to torment him? It would have been simpler to just behead him for an old enemy.
He thought of his father. His foolish and filthy father, who had his head cut off while holding the prince’s head. Knox blinked slowly under the blindfold.
‘Come to think of it, Mother…’
His mother was still alive since that day. Who would have thought she would outlive his father, even with her illness? Their title was stripped, so their mansion must have been confiscated too. He had no idea where she had gone.
‘She probably couldn’t avoid death.’
It was a miracle he was still alive, considering he was a traitor. It was only because Khalid, that boy, had requested his ownership.
The carriage was still moving forward. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed. How far had they gone?
Clatter.
The carriage stopped. The knights opened the door and dragged Knox out. Even when he stumbled and tripped due to his blindness, they did not stop. They walked for what felt like a long time. They climbed more stairs and passed through a long corridor. Suddenly, they stopped. A door opened, and they took a few more steps inside.
One of the knights then kicked him hard behind the knees. Knox naturally knelt down. The back of his knees stung from the kick.
At that moment, someone grabbed his chin and lifted it forcefully.
“…Who did this?”
It was Khalid, now strong-voiced. Knox involuntarily tensed up. One of the knights who had captured him responded.
“It was me.”
Smack—!
The sound was louder than when Knox was hit. He flinched, and the hand gripping his chin tightened.
“Get out.”
“Yes.”
Both knights responded simultaneously and then walked out. The sound of clinking armor grew distant. The door closed, and Knox held his breath. He could tell he was alone in the room with Khalid. There were no other presences.
Khalid roughly removed the blindfold. Knox squinted, his eyes unaccustomed to the light after days in the dungeon.
“……”
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Khalid’s face. No longer a boy, but a man. His hair was a shade of blond tinged with gray. His once round eyes were now sharp and blue, glaring at Knox with a look that could cut. The boy who once loved him was now a man he did not recognize.
“Knox Lainerio.”
The voice, familiar yet new, called his name.
“No, just Knox now, since you’re a slave.”
The voice, low and rough, carried a sneer. Knox was forced to look up at him, unable to avert his gaze. He did not want to see the man who would now be holding a grudge against him, but when he tried to turn his head, Khalid’s large hand gripped his chin harder.
“Look straight at me.”
“……”
“I’m your master now.”
Knox slowly lifted his eyes. The cold gaze bore down on him. Khalid scrutinized his face and then clicked his tongue.
“You look filthy.”
Khalid coldly ordered someone.
“Wash him.”
At his command, maids waiting outside came in, grabbed Knox by the arms, and lifted him. Knox had no choice but to comply with their touch. What could he do now? Even if he tried to escape, where would he go?
As if reading his thoughts, Khalid started to follow behind Knox and the maids, almost as if he were guarding him.
‘Do they think I’ll run?’
Of course. Despite his current state, Knox was a trained knight from a young age. It wouldn’t be difficult to overpower a few maids serving nobles.
The maids untied the ropes around Knox’s arms, and he shivered as blood returned to his limbs. He felt a prickling sensation from the bound area to his fingertips.
The maids led him to a bathroom attached to Khalid’s room. The bathroom, seemingly newly built, was made of white marble. The edge of the deeply sunken bathtub was pearly, and when a maid touched the carving of a bird with raised wings, hot water started to pour out.
And to Knox, who was quietly watching, Khalid commanded without hesitation.
“Strip.”
Knox hesitated at the order. Naturally, he had to undress to bathe, but he hadn’t expected Khalid to watch. And now, Knox couldn’t refuse his orders.
With numbed fingers, Knox slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He was now a slave, Khalid’s property, as he had said.
Knox knew well that he should be grateful he was still alive. He had resigned himself ever since he knelt before the second prince, no, the now-emperor Peltin.
Or had he given up when he saw Khalid standing next to him? Knox would now live as his slave. As a slave to the one he had wronged.
That fact pierced his chest like a sharpened blade.
Plop, plop.
Each time he undressed, Khalid’s gaze followed. On his shoulders, back, between his knees and thighs. Knox felt a strange warmth from his gaze, despite the sharp eyes.
Knox stood straight, now naked. Khalid’s gaze slowly moved up from his feet. Feeling it crawl over him like a creeping touch, Knox shuddered.
The gaze, which felt like it was licking his body, paused somewhere. On his well-toned back. Knox smiled bitterly, pretending not to notice Khalid’s hesitation. It was something he was neither curious about nor needed to be.
“Over here.”
At the maid’s words, Knox followed them into the bathtub filled with warm water. It was luxurious for a slave. Slaves were usually stripped and hosed down at the well, without a word of protest.
For some reason, Khalid watched the maids wash Knox from beginning to end with his arms crossed.
The gaze felt like needles pricking him. It was oddly ticklish. When he was finally washed and dressed in a robe, Knox felt completely drained. The main reason was Khalid’s constant watchfulness.
After washing, Knox was pushed back into Khalid’s room. He couldn’t understand Khalid’s intentions.
Khalid’s room was larger than his mother’s, with more windows. The door to the terrace was especially large. Knox, unable to sit or stand properly, quietly stared at the terrace door.
