The One and Only Sami Chapter 26

“I won’t be able to see it, will I…”

Saying it out loud made the disappointment sting just a bit more. But the castle was overflowing with sights, so pushing the regret aside, Sami walked a little further. Following the glow of the lamps that hung like beaded curtains in every direction, he eventually arrived at a garden where hyssop bushes cast long, slender shadows.

Because it was tucked away right next to perfectly manicured topiary and flamboyant rose thickets, it was a place that didn’t catch the eye as much as one might expect. Despite being close to the fountain, it was nearly deserted.

Then again, deep purple petals would have a hard time competing for attention in a palace at night. Still, the refreshing scent—sharp and cool like mint—calmed his nerves, so Sami took a liking to it.

His sandals, newly bought for the banquet, went thud, thud as he slowly circled the garden, eventually coming to a halt near a dense patch of blooming hyssop.

“Hibi loves these flowers.”

Perhaps because they drank the palace water and soaked up the royal sun, the blossoms seemed unusually large and the purple hue exceptionally vivid compared to the ones commonly found in the fields.

Curiosity piqued, he leaned in for a closer look.

Rustle.

“Huh?”

A sound came from inside the bushes.

Thinking it might be a cat, he peered tentatively into the depths, but he didn’t hear the rhythmic purring or huffing breaths typical of an animal.

Among the servants of the House of Salif, there wasn’t a single one who couldn’t distinguish the wind from the presence of a living creature.

“…”

Sami held his breath and peered cautiously into the thicket.

Inside the dark hyssop bush, where the lamp light cut off abruptly, a silhouette seemed to shimmer and take shape.

He didn’t dare speak to a bush. A servant who went around talking to thin air at the Harut’s banquet wouldn’t be looked upon kindly. He didn’t want to bring even a shred of disgrace to the House of Salif.

Some socialites said that in the palace, pretending not to see whatever happens is the height of nobility. So, Sami decided to “pretend not to know.” Just as he clutched his box tight and turned to run from the bushes, he heard it again—the distinct rustle of leaves brushing against each other.

‘There’s definitely someone there…’

Even though he was inside the Harut’s palace—the most secure place in the nation—for some reason, his mind jumped to those things.

The things that live in the shadows, always looking for a chance to cross the boundary.

‘A Djinni, maybe…’

Or perhaps the person who commands one. Had he not just met a wicked being he thought only existed as a villain in hero stories?

Sami’s shoulders gave a violent shudder. He reflexively hugged the box to his chest, his body curling inward. That snakelike voice and those purple fingernails were things he could never forget, even if he wanted to.

‘Your eyes are yellow. A beloved color in this world. …Yes, a bit too precious to just play with and kill. Perhaps I’ll take you as my servant.’

Thinking of the Mage who had threatened and toyed with him, he swallowed hard against a dry throat. The hyssop garden, which had felt cool and peaceful just moments ago, now felt bone-chilling.

Whatever was suspiciously hiding in the bushes was certainly no small animal.

What if it’s a Mage?

To anyone else, it might seem like a wild leap, but for Sami, who had just experienced a sudden encounter with one, it felt entirely plausible.

“The, the guards…”

Suddenly, he remembered the red turbans he’d seen patrolling the banquet. They had been passing the fountain earlier, so he should be able to spot them quickly from the garden. Sami turned his back fully and was about to take a step.

“…!”

Something from the bushes snatched him firmly by the scruff of his neck.

“W-waagh…! …Mmph!”

Terrified, he tried to scream, but even that was cut short as a hand clamped over his mouth. Sami’s cry rang out hollowly against the large palm covering his lips.

He was dragged straight into the thicket. The supple, long branches of the bushes swallowed the slender young man whole and then swayed innocently in the breeze.

“Hk! …Hng! Mmph…!”

Breathing in jagged, rough gasps, he struggled like a madman. Even in the midst of it, it was pathetically like Sami to keep a death grip on the tribute box.

“Shh.”

“Mmph!”

“What a temper. Now, Sami. Be a good boy.”

He was so preoccupied with twisting his body to escape the stranger’s grasp that it took a moment for him to realize the voice behind him was calling him “Sami.”

Sami’s struggling stopped dead. His shoulders heaved as he panted, breathless from trying to shout through the hand over his mouth, but he no longer fought to get away.

“It gets tedious if you alert the guards.”

Once he calmed down just a little, he could feel the cool touch of metal between the fingers covering his lips. The voice, too, was not unfamiliar—low and strangely soothing, like fine sand being rubbed inside his ear.

This voice was…

“…Ra-aard?”

Forgetting his mouth was still covered, Sami jerked his head up to look at the man holding him. In the deep shadows of the thicket, the faint, distant lights barely traced the silhouette of the man looming over him.

As Sami ceased all resistance, the hand clamped over his mouth slowly withdrew. The fingers that had been restraining him a second ago now danced playfully in his field of vision.

Gem-encrusted rings that greedily devoured even the dimmest lamp light to spark with their own brilliance. As those fingers pulled away, they revealed sand-colored hair fluttering long against the backlight of the night lamps, and lips curved as elegantly as a bow.

“Razard…”

As if praising him for getting the name right, the man lightly pinched Sami’s cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and then let go.

“Hello, Sami.”

Even though his cheeks were squeezed until his mouth puckered like a goldfish, Sami stood still. No, rather than “standing still,” it would be more accurate to say he was so speechless and dazed that he couldn’t react to whatever Razard did.

Well, that suited Razard just fine. He pressed into Sami’s cheeks and pulled away, then did it again. The skin that clung to his fingertips was soft and springy—perfect for toying with.

“Wh…”

By the time Razard had repeated the squeezing about five times, muttering things like, “I knew this skin was addictive,” Sami finally managed to stammer.

“Wh-wh-what are you doing here?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I told you before, didn’t I?”

The sixth time. The man burst into a cheerful laugh while keeping a firm pinch on Sami’s cheek. His attitude was so nonchalant it made Sami’s questions feel foolish.

“There isn’t a place in this country I can’t enter.”

“Razard… are you crazy?”

“Hmm, hearing that from your mouth is actually quite stimulating.”

Razard put on a mock expression of surprise before looking at Sami with a fairly serious face. Though the boy could be bold at times, he usually acted like a round, confused little mouse; hearing him flat-out ask if he was insane seemed to be a fresh experience for Razard.

But Sami had every right to say it. This wasn’t a marketplace, nor was it a scribe’s mansion. This was…

“I’m not joking. We are inside the palace! This is the domain of the Harut!”

“And?”

“…I knew it, you’re a Djinni, aren’t you? With the guards patrolling like that! …O-or, were you actually invited?”

Because of Razard’s usual impression, Sami had missed the most obvious possibility at first. Though there were a dozen suspicious things for him to be an invited guest, Sami asked with a sliver of hope.

“No. I’m a man who doesn’t require invitations.”

And just like that, the hope was smashed to pieces.

“Sigh…”

Right. If he were someone allowed to walk through this palace properly, he wouldn’t have stopped Sami from going to find a guard.

Sami slumped in quiet defeat. I’m an acquaintance of a criminal…

And a great criminal at that, trespassing in the Harut’s palace…

In complete contrast to a despairing Sami, Razard was perfectly composed.

“By the way…”

The purple flowers hanging in clusters from their long stalks swayed gently whenever they moved. Even in the dark thicket, whenever the soft light of the Marut rings illuminated the hyssop flowers and Razard’s face, it felt strangely enchanting.

Razard’s eyes crinkled into a soft smile as he looked at Sami.

“Seeing you jump around like that, I suppose I don’t need to worry.”

“…Pardon?”

“When I left you in your bed, you were as limp as a rag. I was worried you’d spend your birthday bedridden.”

He began to speak in a smooth, sly tone, a smile playing on his lips.