The One and Only Sami Chapter 31

The mutterings retracing the name were low, yet distinct.

The predators lying beside Harut felt his agitation and let out a low rumble from their throats. Even from behind, it was clear that cold sweat was beading on his hunched neck. Now, all Sami could see were his own toes.

“Sami.”

As Antar whispered again softly, Sami swallowed hard and nudged his feet, inch by inch, toward the dais. His feet felt heavy, as if entangled in vines, refusing to move. Sami’s eyes welled with tears, matching the distress of his young master.

Why? How? Why couldn’t he step forward? He had practiced so many times, and even relaxed while watching the banquet. He was sure he’d be fine.

<□□□.>

Perhaps because he was so tense, a buzzing sound seemed to ring in his ears.

Watching the frozen servant, the young master was equally anxious. Antar whispered so quietly that only Sami could hear.

“Sami. If you stay like that, Sir Harut won’t be able to see the offering…”

“…!”

I mustn’t mess up, I mustn’t mess up. Sami scolded his heart, which was pounding with incomprehensible force, and forced himself to walk forward a bit more earnestly.

Was this far enough? Since Antar didn’t say anything more, it seemed okay. Just as a relieved Sami knelt politely once more to offer the box—

Thud.

A presence he hadn’t noticed approaching suddenly stepped right in front of him.

In that instant.

<Harut… of the… Altar!!!>

The buzzing tinnitus transformed into a clear voice—no, a roar—right against Sami’s ear.

“Hi, ee, aaah!”

Already strained to the limit, a startled Sami recoiled and slumped backward, clamping his hands over his ears. …His hands?

“…”

What did I do with my hands?

The moment he realized, his blood seemed to run cold, and his limbs went numb.

Sami’s lips trembled as he lowered his gaze to the floor.

The box had overturned miserably, vomiting out its entire contents. Jewels, cut to scatter the light they held into shimmering fragments, lay glittering on the ground.

“Sami…”

The air in the room shifted completely.

Among the crowd, the one who turned the palest was undoubtedly Antar. Only then did Sami snap out of it and realize the situation.

His empty hands and the box rolling on the floor. The jewels meant for the offering were unharmed, but that no longer mattered. Since they had fallen to the ground right in front of Harut, it was effectively over.

Even if he was said to dislike formality, Harut was the ruler of the desert and the master of the oasis. Picking up something that had fallen before him to present it again would be an unthinkable insult.

‘Just make sure you don’t do anything that might insult him.’

That was the one thing Antar had urged him right before, and as a servant, he had failed.

“I—I’m sor—no, Your Grace… uh…”

His head, which he hadn’t dared to lift toward the dais, inadvertently turned forward. Amidst the feast of gold and silk filling his vision, Sami could finally see him.

“The box is dropped, the jewels are rolling, you’re screaming, and your apology is a mess.”

The master of countless oases. The ruler of the desert, for whom all walls and doors in this land were useless.

Sami’s eyes went wide as he faced Harut.

“Uh, uh…?”

“I told you, didn’t I? To be prepared for next time.”

Golden eyes, the color of sand.

“There are so many punishments to give, it’s hard to choose…”

Eyes that burned like the sun heating the white stone floor and an aura as intense as a hawk roaming the desert closed in on Sami.

“Now, what should I do with you?”

Standing before Sami, smiling as if it were all very amusing, was Razard.

“Ra… zard?”

He knew the name would come out. Razard simply kept his smirk, gripping Sami’s shoulder.

However, the crowd, unaware of their history, reacted differently. The chilled atmosphere was now stained with confusion and horror. In a place that should have ended without a hitch, after committing such an insolence, whose name did that servant just brazenly utter?

“A mere servant dares to speak the ruler’s name so casually.”

“T-t-that’s not, that’s not it…”

Razard didn’t miss the flicker of grievance in those confused eyes.

‘You didn’t care when I called you Razard before…! You told me to call you Razard!’

Even without words, it was obvious what thoughts were spinning inside that small head.

Razard felt a bit bad for feigning ignorance like this, but what could he do? He’d be a fool to pass up this golden opportunity that walked right into his lap.

Harut—no, Razard—couldn’t hide his mischievous grin.

“…”

While it was a pleasant joke for Razard, for Antar, this accident was a moment of life and death. Since Antar had no way of knowing what had transpired between Sami and Razard, his reaction was natural.

Even the usually calm and thoughtful Antar felt a sense of hopelessness that made his head spin. It would be lucky if only Antar himself were held responsible. There was no telling what kind of wrath Sami, or the entire House of Salif, might face.

‘For now, Sir Harut doesn’t look enraged. In that case…’

The best course of action was to settle the situation and minimize the punishment. At least, to the uninformed Antar, this was the only way.

“…Great Ruler Harut.”

Antar prostrated himself so deeply his nose touched the floor.

“This young servant is an ignorant child who knows nothing.”

“Is that so? For someone ignorant, he certainly knows my name. Son of Salif.”

The prostrate Antar swallowed hard, not even daring to blink.

Accidentally dropping the offering was something he might have begged for leniency over. But for a mere servant to utter Harut’s true name without any honorifics?

Words have power. The ‘name’ that defines a person holds even greater power. That is why the noble are not spoken of casually. It was the reason he was called Ruler Harut, rather than Al-Hab Razard.

How Sami knew Harut’s name—a name no one had told him—wasn’t important in the current situation.

“Moreover, you’ve ruined the jewels your family offered me…”

The voice of Harut falling over his head sounded strangely cheerful. Antar realized for a moment that this situation had piqued his “interest,” but he couldn’t think of a clever way out. No matter how brilliant Antar was, he too was just a novice on his first official palace visit.

“The members of the Salif household, whether men or women, children or the elderly, are known to be virtuous and wise.”

Though those leisurely words might be a mere prank to Harut, Antar knew that a single word had the power to crush his family like a piece of paper. Sweat from Antar’s temple ran down his cheek and dripped from his chin.

Harut, or Razard, let out a deliberate, exaggerated sigh and turned on his heel. Leaving the bowing Antar and Sami behind, he walked loosely to the right, then to the left, playfully pondering how to “cook” them.

The leopard and lion lying lazily beside the throne, draped in animal furs, sensed the mood and slowly stood up. With a low, predatory growl, they padded over to Razard’s side.

“…Ugh, hng…”

And at the center of this disaster, Sami felt like he was about to pass out. His skin, usually tanned like well-baked bread, had turned ghostly white. He clutched his mouth, trembling for fear that even a hiccup might provoke the beasts. It was a pitiful sight; it was a miracle he hadn’t wet himself right there.

Razard let out a light, throaty chuckle. Not missing that playful laugh, Antar spoke as humbly as possible.

“The responsibility lies with me for entrusting a precious treasure to an inexperienced young servant, Ruler Harut.”

“A young servant? He celebrates his twentieth birthday today, does he not?”

Antar suddenly lifted his head.

Meeting those wide, surprised eyes, Razard stroked his lips, thinking, Oops. It was problematic for “Ruler Harut” to know the birthday of a “mere young servant” working in the Chief Scribe’s house.

Razard nonchalantly changed the subject.

“Therefore… are you saying the son of Salif will take responsibility for this matter?”

“…!”

Sami, who had been unable to speak and could barely breathe, snapped back to his senses at those words.

Wasn’t the mistake Sami’s own? Yet Antar remained motionless, his forehead pressed to the floor.

“N-no…”

Antar was a man of outstanding appearance and talent, but he was also a virtuous youth who valued people without discrimination. He was the pride of Salif, and above all, the person Sami respected most.

When Sami first started working at the Salif estate and was being scolded harshly by Lasilla for frequent mistakes, it was Master Antar who would pat the head of the sobbing Sami in the corner of the stairs and offer him delicious bread to comfort him.

And that wasn’t all. When Sami had a nightmare and hovered by the study holding a single pillow, it was Antar Salif who always opened the door and gave him warm tea. He was even the one who had dabbed gold powder on Sami’s forehead when Sami was confused after meeting a Mage before.

He couldn’t let his master get into any more trouble. If there was “responsibility,” it was only right that he take it.

He felt that even if he received a great punishment, it was much better for him to disappear than to lose Master Antar.

Sami scrambled on all fours and grabbed the hem of Razard’s trousers. Whatever courage possessed him then, he didn’t even notice the leopard and lion prowling around Razard’s legs.