Novel Full Chapter 411: You look better
Chapter 411: You look better
***
{Outside The Projection}
Of course, all eyes slid toward Layla now.
The story had shifted to her; the first threads of his truth’s end were beginning to weave themselves into being as the same light caught her face here and now, more than two hundred years later.
Though instead of it further revealing her beauty as it once did, the light only highlighted her tragedy.
Once, she had been dressed in silks the color of desert twilight, hair loose and shining, but now, here in the same hall, before the very place she wed, she wore the somber black of mourning, feeling like mountains on her shoulders.
It was a time when she stood before the Golden Throne as a potential wife, essentially a stranger, and now, she stood before it once more, just as estranged as before, a mirror revealing the essence of their relationship.
Such a shame, most thought, finding it unfortunate that they couldn’t see her in all the finery the projection showed… but, despite all that she had gone through in the past nine days, her barely contested beauty had yet to leave, undeniable even now.
Still, beauty wasn’t what everyone was thinking about; something else was, and it came in the form of a question.
Why was she there at all?
Layla. Once, “little night,” who had openly wept when her father’s coffin was lowered into the earth, scratching at it, screaming for him to come back, screaming that she wasn’t ready. Once, the drunkard they’d seen staggering out of an inn, hollow-eyed and ruined by drink…
How could she be there as a potential wife?
That, they couldn’t understand, not at all.
Hadn’t Malik been the one who put her father in the grave?
Hadn’t his ’acceptance’ been the one to drive her to the bottom of a cup?
But, there was no denying it… she was stepping toward him in the projection of her own volition.
This didn’t make any sense to them, forcing questions to swell in their throats, pressing for answers that were too sensitive to ask, making many of them shake their heads in surrender.
Layla must have felt the weight of it: the way the whole hall wanted to demand why…
And so, her lips moved in reply:
“Don’t wait for me to tell you.”
Her voice was low but clear enough for those near to catch.
“The projection will answer everything.”
With that, she looked back toward the projection, violet eyes steady.
Not only hers, for another set of violet eyes further locked onto the projection.
They were Dunya’s, for she, same as Layla, knew exactly what was coming next.
***
{Inside The Projection}
The Sultan’s Hall had gone quiet.
Its air felt so heavy, like the entire Holy Palace held its breath.
Layla walked forward slowly, the faint sound of her heels tapping against the floor echoing across the chamber.
Every step made the other women shift uncomfortably, their painted smiles faltering as they realized this stranger in the back had been chosen over them.
Now, this ’stranger’ didn’t come alone.
Beside her was another figure, a smaller woman with long black hair and eyes with an unnatural shade of deep violet, wearing a simple maid’s dress.
She kept close to Layla’s side, almost hiding behind her as she gripped her sleeve.
Her appearance already stood out, but there was one thing that was noticeable above all else.
A scar.
Something of a pale, rough mark running along her entire neck.
An injury most would attempt to cover up, especially those currently in the hall.
But unlike how they would’ve dealt with such a blemish, she appeared proud of it, making sure it could be seen.
Malik’s gaze lingered there, and something locked far away stirred in his mind.
The memory came without his permission—a burned village filled with the stench of rot, Corrupted bodies all around, and him digging a kid up out of crumbling rubble, reaching her all too late, unable to save her voice, hearing only her muffled cry.
Yes.
This girl was Dunya.
The same Dunya he had saved all those years ago.
The same mute girl who had clung to him like she was holding onto the world itself.
Now she stood here, grown, silent as ever, but alive and bright.
***
{Outside The Projection}
Now the light shifted again, and it was her turn.
Sweet, sweet Dunya.
The one still tucked into Sinbad’s thick feathers, her body buried in the softness.
She was grinning, wide and warm, as the scene on the projection showed her younger self stepping before the Sultan.
It wasn’t a polite smile or a forced one like so many others wore. This was a smile born from somewhere untouched, something pure. She didn’t even try to hide it, not caring that half the crowd was still murmuring over Layla, her once Lady.
This was her moment.
There was pride in her eyes now, not the fear she’d worn back then.
She had no shame in seeing her own face up there, no bitterness at the past.
Unlike everyone else who had their truth revealed, she had absolutely no regrets.
Well… only one.
That she hadn’t been able to spend more time with Malik.
Her gaze softened, as if that thought stung even now. But the sting was fading, washed away by the warmth curling through her chest.
Because here, at last, she could watch it unfold.
She could watch the story put them side by side again.
Finally, she could see herself near him—see the man who had once pulled her out of the dark, standing in the light beside her.
Finally, she could see her heart unchained.
***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik didn’t say anything for a long while.
His eyes only shifted between her and Layla, his expression unreadable.
Sinbad tilted his head on Malik’s shoulder, pink eyes narrowing, but even he didn’t speak—the moment felt too still to break.
“My Lord…”
Though it didn’t remain for long, as Azeem, unknowing of their history, leaned closer, breaking it a second later.
“Do you know them?”
Malik didn’t answer, remaining entirely still.
Layla met his gaze, her posture surprisingly calm, and her eyes equally sharp, making it obvious that she was studying him just as much as he was studying her.
So, only after a few long minutes had gone by did she give the faintest nod, as if confirming something to herself.
Placing a gentle hand on Dunya’s shoulder, she proceeded to walk forward once more.
The girl flinched but didn’t pull away, following Layla to the foot of the stairs beneath the throne.
Once there, the two women kneeled to him, lowering their heads.
“I greet you, my Lord.”
Layla went first, quickly followed by a nervous Dunya:
“H-Hee!”
Or, well, her attempt at following her Lady.
Fortunately, this Sultan she just Hee’d to was Malik, knowing full well of her condition, and more than willing to forgive a dumb courtesy.
Rather than annoyed, he found it incredibly cute instead, almost making him smile.
The ’almost’ here was as far as life was from death, but still, it wasn’t something that could be said about anyone, revealing just how easily she made her way back into his life.
Everyone else, with the exception of Layla and Sinbad, didn’t see it as that; however, preparing themselves for Malik’s wrath, and yet, no matter how long they waited, bracing themselves for the scene to move on, to end in punishment, it hadn’t.
Their Sultan remained still, his gaze lingering on the two for way too long.
This… this was the first time he’d actually seen them, not what he thought they looked like.
’Ain’t you lucky~? Getting all chummy with such a beautiful girl?’
The words of that snake of a guard couldn’t help but be dredged up, now feeling like an understatement, because wow… Layla was so incredibly beautiful, more so than anyone in the hall, and quite easily at that.
Dunya wasn’t anything to scoff at either, a cute little gem that didn’t need a dress of gold to look like someone who belonged atop all these women.
“You…”
His voice, when it finally came, revealed hesitation for a breath.
“…You look better.”
It wasn’t clear if he was speaking to Layla or Dunya, but either way…
Those words held a lot more meaning, more than they’d ever know.