Chapter 312: Hold A Vote!
Chapter 312: Hold A Vote!
***
{Outside The Main Projection}
“WHAT?!”
That shout wasn’t from a single person.
It was the whole damn hall.
One big gut punch that echoed off the marble walls.
An echoing thunder that cracked the ceiling open.
The revelation hit hard, and not because it was loud.
No, the opposite.
It was the way the Chancellor just slipped it in, like it was some footnote in a letter.
Like Zafar being the real Stranger, a damn outsider, meant absolutely nothing.
And though they didn’t understand all of its implications, that was what made everyone freeze.
They looked at each other.
Then at his people.
His yes-men.
His “loyal” followers.
Not one of them said a thing. Not a sound.
Not even the one who always had something to say.
They just stood there like statues, trying to look unreadable.
But anyone could see it in their eyes.
They were shocked.
Absolutely shocked.
Though he didn’t know it, their leader wasn’t who he said he was.
And yes, they were sure that he didn’t know… the man wasn’t known to be clever.
That didn’t and wouldn’t matter in the end, however.
In the world of nobles, where bloodlines were everything, where “purity” was something to be proud of, and where one’s family name could carry a city or curse a nation, that wasn’t something anyone could bounce back from.
They all knew what this meant.
The coalition—their coalition—had been led by a man who wasn’t even from here.
A fraud.
A stranger.
The crowd started murmuring.
What were they supposed to do now?
Hadn’t the coalition lost enough face already?
Ten to zero…
Malik was the ’ten.’
The rest of them?
’Zero.’
At the far right side of the hall, Noor crossed her arms, her jaw clenched tight.
Roya, at the left, tapped her foot once.
They didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.
They just looked at each other and nodded once.
That was it. There was no need for more.
It was enough to say:
“It’s time. We cut him off.”
They needed to do this now before the hall’s murmurs could turn into shouts.
Before this quiet chaos went out of control. Even more so than now.
Zafar wasn’t here when his presence mattered most, and that alone made it much easier… Easier to shove him out the door and publicly take the reins for themselves.
There was no wind, no sway, just a clean shot waiting to be taken. And they sure as Hell weren’t going to miss it.
Azeem never officially joined the coalition, only supplied them with information, while Layla and Safira hadn’t interacted with the coalition even once before the day of the attack; this ’wind’ could do nothing about this takeover… lawfully speaking, at least.
And so, undisturbed, Noor took a step forward.
But just as she did so—
WHOOSH.
Someone flew through the hall’s doors.
Huda.
Hair wild, dress bloodied at the bottom like she crawled out of a battlefield.
Both her look and entrance were quite the… fashion statement. But still, she flew like she owned the place. As her uncle did.
Gasps ripped through the hall as she landed before the projection, grabbing their attention at once.
She turned towards them and shouted—no, roared—louder than anyone thought possible of her petite figure:
“I, the Sword of Devil’s Maw, will lead the coalition!”
It silenced them all.
“And I swear on everything I hold dear, when I lead, we will no longer wait for his death. We will use our all to save him. Bleed and lose our lives for him. In hopes… in hopes we could repay even a fraction of what we owe him—and maybe, just maybe, my brother will forgive us for our betrayal.”
Her words echoed, heavy on their minds.
And somewhere in the silence—
Azeem stood up from his lotus position.
He kept smirking like none of this was that serious.
“For that last part… are you talking about ’we’ or just yourself?”
Huda didn’t look at him.
“Shut up.”
Flipping her hair, she marched straight into the “pain zone,” that space under the projection where the Sultan’s emotions and pain cracked everyone open. Where people bled to death without even seeing a drop of red.
There, she stood like a torch in the wind.
“Now…”
Her eyes fixed on Roya and Noor.
“What’ll it be?”
“…”
“…”
She received no reply.
But silence hadn’t remained.
“Answer her.”
A soft voice joined hers.
It was Safira’s.
Wiping tears away, she stepped beside Huda.
Seconds later, Layla followed, wiping away her own.
“You won’t win even if it comes down to it. No one wants an egoist…”
Her eyes flicked from Noor to Roya.
“And a disgusting sadist… keep your ugly fetishes in the bedroom.”
Roya’s brow twitched slightly, though even those looking didn’t notice that, for she barely offered a reaction, remaining silent.
Wiping her eyes a second time, Layla scoffed.
“What? You didn’t think anyone would notice?”
“…”
Seeing that she wasn’t going to get a rise out of her, she turned back to Noor.
“Well? What’s it gonna be?”
Noor rolled her eyes and stared her down.
“Oh, now you care? Weren’t you just saying the Sultan needed a ’break?’ You flipping sides again? Didn’t know you were so wishy-washy… That’s not a good look for a merchant. Pretty sure your father would disown you. Or by the looks of the Sultan’s dream, he already did~.”
Layla smiled sweetly.
“This and that are separate. Also…”
She leaned in slightly.
“Die.”
Noor laughed. Loud and full of venom.
Though only for a bit, as Roya gave her a sharp look, motioning her quiet.
Then, after a moment of silence, she stepped forward herself, calm as still water.
“I propose a vote. Not all of us in this hall are from the coalition, but most are. And I’d rather we decide with a vote than tear each other’s throats out…”
She glanced at Layla.
“Even if some of us would rather it end that way.”
Huda nodded.
“I agree, and—”
“Let’s do it now.”