Episode 19: The Fugitive Slave’s Husband

In a secluded alley, under the shadowy walls where sunlight seldom reached, Alec stood face-to-face with a man cloaked in a pale green robe. As Alec’s haughty gaze fell on him, the man removed his robe and parted his lips to speak.

“It has been a long time. I never imagined His Highness the Prince would grow to be such a man.”

The voice was a familiar low tone. Alec didn’t respond, merely watching the man in silence. His golden-brown hair and round eyes, reminiscent of Alec’s mother, might have given him a kind demeanor. But the burn scars that marred half his face robbed him of that impression entirely. Alec finally spoke to the uncle he now faced, mirroring the man’s silence until then.

“Did you not sense anything on your way here?”

“What sort of presence do you mean?”

“Ruvero sent Nasca.”

The man’s shoulders trembled. Alec recalled the time he discovered his uncle’s lifeless body—a shattered remnant of a past life.

The night he confirmed Afrosa’s pregnancy, the village elder had found a corpse abandoned on the outskirts of the settlement. Headless, the body lay unrecognizable until the following night when the news of Dallas Suza’s death revealed Nasca’s involvement.

In that life, Alec had wasted no time forging an alliance with the Marquis of Opresse, desperate to grasp at any tool within reach. But now…

“Have you made contact?”

The uncle’s voice was low. Alec shook his head.

“If they find your trail, they’ll cut off your head and present it to Ruvero. Then they’ll obliterate any chance I have to return, grinding it to dust.”

Alec spoke of the future as if reciting prophecy. It wasn’t conjecture—it was the inevitable chain of events. Ruvero’s moves were calculated, aiming to dismantle Alec’s support base, centered around Chancellor Mankel, and suffocate him completely.

They sought to drive Alec into the arms of the Marquis of Opresse, leaving him no other option. Before that could happen, he had to act.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Even when cast into a desolate corner like this, it’s impossible not to hear.”

“…”

“I heard Mankel has been imprisoned.”

“That’s actually why I—”

“Are you prepared to wage civil war?”

Alec interrupted, his sharp tone cutting through his uncle’s hesitation as the older man dropped his gaze. Slowly, the man raised his head, meeting Alec’s steady, unreadable eyes.

Alec’s thoughts turned to the political turmoil in Travis. It would not be difficult to sever Ruvero’s head again, just as he had in the past. Even if Ruvero weren’t merely a half-brother, but his true brother, it would make no difference.

When Aylek’s mother passed away, rumors swirled throughout the palace that Ruvero was not the son of the emperor but of some unknown man. The whispers in the imperial palace were so irreverent and loose that no punishment seemed sufficient to stop them. Yet, these rumors were not without some foundation, making them worth listening to.

At the very least, if such rumors circulated, there must have been an event that sparked them. The claim that Ruvero was the son of a lowly servant rather than Emperor Leodegrance was no exception. Stories about a servant who had supposedly coveted the emperor’s young concubine had persisted even before Ruvero’s birth.

Ultimately, Alec didn’t care about any of it. His mother had died, and he had been exiled by his half-brother under the guise of a recuperation retreat, only to endure starvation and barely survive. The truth of Ruvero’s parentage didn’t matter if he had no intention of returning.

But now, circumstances demanded that he confront this issue. He intended to exploit it, using Ruvero’s questionable lineage to dethrone him. Even in his past life, Alec had never confirmed who Ruvero’s true father was. While knowing wouldn’t have changed the outcome back then, it could inform his plans now.

“Your Highness.”

“Ruvero intends to kill me and my wife.”

“Your wife?”

“The woman you just saw.”

“…”

“The one I was holding.”

“When did you marry her?”

“Three years ago.”

Alec straightened his back from where he had been leaning against the wall and thought of Afrosa. He wanted to create a world where she could be truly happy—a world where she could love him openly, without fear of judgment. He wanted to become her complete husband and the father of their child, not merely the “master” of a son born to her.

“She’s a slave, actually.”

The man’s eyes flickered with surprise. Alec swallowed the discomfort stirred by that gaze, pressing his lips together tightly. His uncle looked at him silently, processing the shocking declaration that the woman his nephew referred to as “wife” was, in truth, a slave.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“What you’ve heard is all there is to it.”

“A free man cannot marry a slave. And, more importantly, Your Highness is still a member of the imperial family.”

So, marriage could not be realized. That was the implication.Alec knew this. In the Empire, slaves could not marry free people, and children born between the two were not recognized as legitimate. A child born of a slave and a free person would still be considered a slave. Moreover, he was part of the imperial family. It was impossible for a marriage to be recognized. Even if Ruvero had expelled him, he had not made him a slave. No, in fact, according to the laws of the Empire, royalty could never become slaves. The lowest possible rank a royal could fall to would be a commoner, or a free person.

“Are you not aware that, according to the laws of the Empire, royalty cannot become slaves?”

The uncle’s gaze grew harsh. It was as though he could not believe the audacity of Alec speaking without even flinching about having married a slave. Alec simply looked at him impassively.

It reminded him of the first time he had told the investigator about his intention to marry. The investigator had the same look. Even the adoptive father who had taken in Afrosa struggled to accept it.

“Marriage… But Alec, aren’t you a royal?”

After some hesitation, the investigator, with pale lips, muttered something under his breath. The shadowed look in his eyes, his pale and uncertain expression—it wasn’t that he couldn’t understand. If anyone else had come to ask for permission for marriage, the investigator would likely have given the same reaction.

“A royal marrying a commoner is a matter of high and low status. Unless you’re forming a marital alliance with a ruling family of the continent, it’s all the same.”

“This is not about marriage status.”

“Then…”

“Afrosa is a slave.”

“I heard she was freed from her shackles.”

The investigator shook his head. His lips, tightly pressed together, were pale. Alec thought back to a summer day when Afrosa had been sitting by a stream, sobbing. The setting sun slowly engulfed her in its red twilight. As Alec gently wiped her wet eyelids, she looked up at him with pained eyes. Her slender fingers pulled at the fabric of her chest, as they rolled on the grass, their lips meeting, and he noticed the faint white scar on her chest that he had never seen before. A clear brand, distinct and undeniable, marked her skin. If she were royalty, she would not bear such a mark.

“I was a slave.”

Her wet lips trembled as she spoke. Alec, staring at her without emotion, remembered her pain. Afrosa cried louder. He held her fragile body in his arms.

“It doesn’t matter.”

None of it mattered to him. Whatever her status, it didn’t change how he felt. Even if she were still a slave, it didn’t matter. Nothing could stop him from loving her.

“Is Afrosa still a slave?”

Alec, lost in memories, looked at the investigator with a troubled expression. Afrosa had shown him the mark of a slave, confessing her past. But now, she emphasized that she was no longer a slave, awkwardly clutching her chest. The once blurry and indistinct outline of her body now seemed cruelly clear without any laws binding it.

Alec said nothing, only gently wiping the tears from her pale eyes. As his lover exposed her heart in agony, he wanted to erase the pain from her soul. The curves of her body, once fragile, now seemed unbearably smooth, and the brand on her skin haunted him as he fought to suppress his emotions.

“Then what will you do?”

“Give her to me.”

“She’s not mine.”

The look on the investigator’s face as he said “she’s not mine” was grim. It was hard to tell whether he was trembling because he could not bear to admit treating his adopted daughter like an object or if he found it unbearable to face the words coming from his own lips. Alec stared at the investigator’s contorted face before turning his gaze away.

Afrosa believed she was free. She was a woman who did not know how to lie, so she must have heard from the investigator’s own lips that she was a freed slave. A free person, just like the investigator. If she had been taken in as an adopted daughter by an intellectual, she would naturally be considered free. She could not have thought that her status was still that of a slave…

“Why did you lie to Aphrosa?”

The investigator’s eyes met his. The face that had been twisted in distress slowly began to harden. Alec watched him expressionlessly. The truth was that even without asking, he already knew. Even now, Alec could not bring himself to tell Afrosa that she had not truly been freed. The reason why he had felt the need to confirm it with the investigator, despite already sensing it, was that he did not want to confront the cruel truth that Afrosa would one day learn about her past.

“It was…”

The investigator’s dry lips parted. After a brief moment, he straightened his head.

“I thought she wouldn’t follow me if I didn’t lie.”

Alec’s gaze wavered slightly. The investigator’s voice, spoken in a calm tone, made Alec imagine Afrosa’s rejection of the proposal. A slave could never become the adopted daughter of a free person, just as a slave could never become the wife of a free man. So if Afrosa were to learn this truth, if she were to find out…

“There were many things that happened before I took her and ran away. None of them were easy, but…”

The investigator slowly parted his lips toward Alec, his face reflecting the passage of time. The face lost in thought carried a sad light, yet a smile lingered on it.

Alec thought of young Afrosa. When they first met in Lorange, Afrosa had been younger than Alec. She was much smaller than her peers, with a tiny frame, and as thin as Alec himself. Yet, her radiant smile had been as bright as the sun’s rays.

“Convincing her was the hardest part.”

The investigator, snapping out of his reverie, stared at Alec with a dry gaze. His expression, thin like dry straw, looked more exhausted than ever. Alec turned away, taking a step toward the chapel’s exit.

“Do you really intend to marry her?”

“Yes.”

“I’m worried.”

Alec said nothing. The investigator was not the kind of person to worry unnecessarily about things that hadn’t happened yet. If he was worried, it was for the things that were worth worrying about. Whatever it was, Alec could tell it was a genuine concern. Still, he turned his back to the investigator, who expressed his worries in a tone that did not sit well with him.

The investigator immediately sensed that Alec was a royal who had been cast aside. He knew vaguely who Alec’s father was, what his origins were, and why he had ended up here. Though never spoken aloud, the investigator could guess Alec’s circumstances from what he had witnessed.

Thus, the potential trouble Alec might cause was also the investigator’s concern, and the potential issues Afrosa might bring up were worries that weighed on him too. However, no matter what happened, Alec was determined not to give up on Afrosa. Even if his path was filled with thorns…

“Your Highness.”

“If I hold ownership, isn’t it mine to decide? The owner can free a slave.”

“Were you a runaway slave? Didn’t you transfer the rights to her?”

The Empire’s laws concerning the fate of slaves were deep and heavy. If a father became a slave due to a crime, his child would also be enslaved, but even if the father was freed and returned to being a free person, the child would remain a slave until the new master liberated them. While the state could demote a free person to a slave, only the master could free a slave.

“If I were her master, would I have kept her as a slave?”