Novel Full Chapter 407: Good Kid
Chapter 407: Good Kid
***
{Outside The Projection}
Azeem didn’t really have anything to say about that.
He’d expected as much from his Lord—bare words, no warmth—but even so, hearing his name like that meant something. It meant everything. His lips twitched like he wanted to stop smiling, but didn’t know if it was allowed. It was still surreal. The man he followed, fought beside, bled for—had picked him. Out of everyone. Him.
It didn’t matter to him if the scroll was marked {low priority}.
Malik had spoken his name and actually called for him.
And now the whole realm had seen it.
Folding his arms, Azeem leaned back a little.
He felt a little lighter, for once, his chest wasn’t feeling crushed.
But it was also heavier, because he knew what was coming.
That feeling was undoubtedly nervousness.
Again, it was his time to be shown on the projection.
Shown to the entire world, the final main piece to this story.
Seeing himself was definitely about to be weird.
Azeem was already bracing himself, and he wasn’t the only one. The closer they got to the present, the more the world braced alongside him, knowing that there was a chance of even them, the unnamed, to be seen.
It was an incredibly weird feeling.
One felt most by Azeem and Layla.
In case it wasn’t stated enough, their stories were about to unravel in front of the world. Every word, every slip, every glare, every moment of weakness. They were about to see themselves through Malik’s eyes.
That part scared them more than anything.
Azeem, especially, Layla had a few assurances, having already accepted her position.
The new one was unaccustomed to being under such scrutiny, and it was not because he feared what he’d see, but because he needed to know… Again, Azeem needed to know if Malik had ever trusted him. If those long decades together, those bitter rides through blood and fire—if any of it mattered. Or if Malik had always seen him like everyone else: another tool.
The projection resumed…
Thump.
It was coming.
Azeem exhaled through his nose.
He remembered exactly how it started.
That first meeting, they called it an interview, but it had been anything but.
Yeah, it wasn’t exactly professional; rather, it lost all professionalism in the first second.
Azeem would have undoubtedly gotten a few teasing gazes if not for a certain someone’s death and the general mood present in the hall.
Others might’ve been embarrassed by it, but it was a scene he held dear.
He wouldn’t trade it for anything.
So, he didn’t look away from the projection, not even for a second.
…He was ready.
***
{Inside The Projection}
The door shut behind a young man with a quiet thud.
He was too tense to hear it, barely able to make his way to the center of the room without losing his footing and falling over.
Once he stood there, he took in a deep breath, trying to relax his tight shoulders, but failed.
The young man seemed to have worn his best robe, a deep purple with gold accents across the sleeves and an open chest that exposed a thin necklace and a bit too much skin for court.
Three rings clinked together on one hand, a sign of either vanity or nervous habit.
Malik was before him, still at his desk, and he didn’t bother welcoming his guest.
Instead, he gestured towards the chair that sat right before him and Sinbad, who now laid on a relatively much cleaner desk.
The young man nodded his head in a stutter, tumbled forward, barely finding the chair.
“Azeem…”
Once he was seated, Malik’s eyes moved up from the young man’s clothes to his face.
“You’re a bit flamboyant, aren’t you?”
The words hit harder than they should’ve, making Azeem repeatedly blink.
“I—uh…”
He opened his mouth but didn’t speak.
The robe, rings, and perfume—all suddenly felt like a mistake.
“Hm.”
Malik didn’t stop.
“You don’t swing that way, do—”
“N-No I don’t!”
Azeem blurted, face flushing with panic.
“I already have a fiancée!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
The room went quiet again.
Malik’s expression didn’t shift at all.
But inside his skull, a dry little voice echoed:
’Good kid. He’ll fit right in.’
***
{Outside The Projection}
“You’re a bit flamboyant, aren’t you?”
Those were Malik’s first words upon meeting Azeem.
Right, not even a moment after, the hall started trembling like all Hell, this time for an entirely new reason, which was them barely stopping themselves from bursting out laughing, Roya forgotten once more.
The perfume, rings, half-naked robe, and Azeem’s panicked reply…
It all came together like a perfect comedy, making even the elders crack smiles.
Layla, unlike the rest, let loose and laughed away, slapping her hand on her arms.
Huda, red-faced and teary, still fresh from her earlier breakdown, glanced at Azeem with this helpless look that tried to be teasing, but she couldn’t fully pull it off, a cute struggle.
Her lips trembled too much.
Despite all odds, the mood shifted, the heaviness of Roya’s death, of Malik’s journey, of the past few hours—it faded, at least a little.
But Azeem didn’t join them on their shift.
He didn’t look at them, didn’t even seem to notice Layla’s laughter. He was still, focused, and locked in his own head, too deep to notice everyone else internally giggling around him.
Something had caught him off guard, and not the embarrassment.
No, it was the words.
’Good kid. He’ll fit right in.’
They looped in his mind like a song that wouldn’t end.
He’d spent so long assuming Malik saw him as another tool, a servant to keep in check, a sword to point at the right place when things got too messy, but this… this changed everything.
Azeem thought he’d know the truth after a long time, that his Lord would be stingy with compliments or even thoughts about him, but no, he was so completely wrong.
Malik hadn’t been indifferent; he hadn’t been cold out of disregard.
He liked him.
From the very beginning.
His Lord didn’t treat him like any other man because he hated him or was completely indifferent about him; no, there was a reason beyond that, likely his preparing of Azeem to later betray him.
Malik… Malik always regarded Azeem as a close companion.
Such news elated Azeem to heights he never imagined possible.
His face broke into an even bigger smile, something way too far and pure from the cocky smirk people expected from him… something much, much brighter.
Azeem felt weight being lifted off his shoulders all at once.
He looked like a boy again.
A boy who finally found what he was looking for.
Across the hall, Sinbad caught the look, and his eyes warmed a little.
This wasn’t anything new to him.
Malik had always liked Azeem, respected him, trusted him enough to let him in, and that was exactly why what happened later—why that betrayal—wasn’t just tragic.
It was devastating, hurting Malik deeply, despite his being the one orchestrating it.
Despite its necessity… at least, a necessity in his eyes.
One that began to take shape just as this “interview” ended.
Just as they finally stood on the same side.