Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

Malik paused a moment.

‘So he did it…’

Sighing, he nodded.

“Great.”

Azeem’s shoulders loosened.

“That’s really great. If you hadn’t noticed her sickness so early…”

He exhaled, almost laughing from relief.

“We might’ve lost her, the Eye of the Holy City. They all owe you for that.”

A murmur rose around the table—the rest picking up on the opportunity.

Compliments, one after the other, not about Malik but Layla.

Praise for her beauty, her grace, and the blessing of their marriage.

Each word was a polished little offering meant to stay in his favor.

Malik didn’t really hear them and instead looked at them.

He stared them down, offering nothing more.

Seeing his lack of reaction, their voices lowered until they finally shut up, realizing just how dumb it was to try licking his boots now when they failed so many times before.

When the last echo of their flattery ended, Malik finally spoke:

“Keep any damage from reaching us, without destroying them.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

None of the older ones questioned him.

They’d learned better by now, much better.

But there was a new face at the table… unfortunately.

Young, bright-eyed, and still under the illusion that direct questions earned direct answers.

“My Lord… is there a strategic reason for that? You’ve dismantled their attack very cleanly. I see no flaw. It’s incredible. So, what reason is there besides a strategic one? Or… is it because this war is led by your student, Lady Noor?”

He asked the question everyone knew better than to voice.

A question one of them asked a long time ago and lived to regret it.

“…”

“…”

“…”

The room went silent.

No one even breathed.

Malik turned his head slightly toward Azeem and Sinbad.

His eyes didn’t say much, but the look was clear enough.

‘This is the smartest you’ve found?’

They both shrugged.

‘Yes.’

Malik looked back at the newcomer.

“…Do as I say.”

The young man’s bravado dissolved.

“A-Ah…”

He bowed his head quickly.

“Yes, my lord.”

A tyrant was before him.

***

{Outside The Projection}

Malik didn’t have any breaks.

From one thing to the next, always.

When he slid the pieces on the map and erased Noor’s likely many months of scheming in a heartbeat, the hall all reacted in the same staggered tempo—surprise, acceptance, a quick recalibration.

They couldn’t help but pause and imagine what Noor’s reaction would’ve been like.

Though, in all honesty, it didn’t take a genius to figure out how.

Indifference.

Because yes, she’d accepted it all.

Malik could’ve slapped her for days on end without her knowledge, and she’d simply accept it and move on, or at least try to… it was the only thing she could do at this point.

Still, they doubted she’d drop her shoulders; she was twisted like that.

Noor never seemed to care for their stares.

But now, barely any would’ve stared.

Yeah, it wasn’t just her; they didn’t care, either.

Because, well, who gave a shit about her anymore?

Even this mention of hers was in passing.

Her story was as over as it was for Roya.

Only Roya’s end was eternal, while Noor’s could return.

It was almost pitiful… even in the volume she did most work in, she wasn’t worthy enough to be the focus.

Malik was truly her better in everything.

Though that had been established a million times already, it was nothing new.

What was ‘new’ was just how easily Hakim made them forget about Layla’s truth.

Somehow, some way, without them being shown even a glimpse, he did it.

And, judging by Azeem’s worry, it was quite a clean erasure at that.

Everyone had the new version now:

Layla’s near-death had been a severe sickness, cured just in the nick of time.

The terrible truth—a pregnancy that had been pulling her to the edge—had been wiped away neatly.

It was incredible how the human mind worked, always adapting, making sense of what didn’t make sense… brains were greedy for ‘sense;’ once the truth was taken, it filled in the blanks, giving them a new story, which they immediately wore, covering the gaps.

That raised many questions, many of which they didn’t dare answer.

If Hakim could do this, if memory could be smoothed, what bargains were still safe?

If histories could be rewritten on a breath, what value would any Oath or debt hold?

There was a sobering hush filling every corner of the hall.

For all their relief about Layla, the world felt the shadow behind the miracle.

It was truly cruel how fast the mind could rewrite a thing so heavy into something it could hold without breaking.

Yet it was also telling, reminding them of Malik’s most heightened moment of being an ‘unreliable narrator,’ where his mind thought and saw things that weren’t at all true.

The time when a certain someone’s love became poison.

Minds adapted; hearts forgave, but fear…

Fear remembered.

Even now…

Her fear of that memory had sent her reeling.

A fear that most wouldn’t ever come back from.

***

{Inside The Projection}

Azeem quickly shifted the subject, not wanting the guy to quit in his first week.

“A few of Safira’s people were spotted with those with ties to the Heroic Coalition. Nasir Al-Sultan will probably meet them soon, just before the battle for Nourzadah’s town. That means they’ll likely have all their leaders present… under one roof. Though we’re allowing them the space to move and expand, we need to keep a close eye on them. They’re quite… erratic.”

Malik’s eyes moved back to his Right Hand Man.

Something like memory stirred in them.

“I…”

It faded as quickly as it came.

“I’ll go there myself.”

But before then… he had to go visit another town.

Glancing at Sinbad, he stood up and gestured for them to move.

Immediately understanding what was going on, they followed.

That move alone seemed to announce the meeting’s end.

Nearly everyone there seemed used to this gesture.

And they knew full well what “evil” it entailed.

His wife had just barely survived her “sickness,” and yet…

Malik was already off, doing what he always did.

There really was no rest for the wicked.