The One and Only Sami Chapter 32

“Hic, ugh, hu—huuugh… Razard, I mean, Ma—Master Harut. Hic. The young master didn’t do—didn’t do anything wrong…”

The moment he opened his mouth, a torrent of tears came crashing down.

“I also don’t think the son of Salif is at fault, yet here he is claiming full responsibility.”

“No, sir. It’s the fault of this—this pathetic servant. I’ve caused so much trouble…”

“Hmm…”

Razard looked down at Sami, who was daring to clutch the hem of his trousers, and then gave a slight lift with his foot, nudging Sami’s body upward.

“Well, you’re certainly better than your master.”

Thinking to himself how pathetic and adorable the boy looked with tears and snot running down his face, Razard lowered his voice to sound intimidating, as if delivering a divine decree.

“So you know whose sin this is. Fine, whose fault is it? Tell me again.”

“Heugh, hic, waaah… It’s—it’s my fault. It’s the servant’s fault. It’s Sami’s fault. The young master did nothing—nothing wrong, so please, I beg you…”

The corners of Razard’s mouth twitched upward. Good. Now he had his justification.

“Since you ruined the offering the House of Salif went to such great lengths to obtain, how should I collect the debt?”

“Hic… ugh. Sniff…”

“What to do, what to do…”

Razard took his time, pacing leisurely to the left, then to the right. Following him, Sami crawled along the floor on all fours, desperately clinging to those moving trouser legs as they shifted left and right.

“Master Harut. Mercy… please, have mercy…”

Unaccustomed to such stakes, Sami was completely broken, unable to stem the tide of his tears.

He was certain this was the same Razard—the Mage (or so he thought, though he claimed otherwise)—who had helped him before. But seeing him stand there as Harut, feigning total ignorance, made Sami’s head spin.

In the midst of this chaos, the only thing Sami could do was cry and beg to prevent the arrows of guilt from flying toward Antar.

“Hmm.”

From Razard’s perspective, Sami was incredibly cute, scurrying after his feet like a puppy trying to keep up. He considered playing with him a bit longer, but then his eyes met Antar’s, who was still kneeling nearby.

Razard observed the sharp, intelligent eyes of Antar, who was trying to parse the situation. A silent look passed between the two young men.

A look that suggested an intuition of a hidden agenda, a wish, or perhaps a prior incident.

Razard saw the sparks of suspicion flickering in the eyes of Sami’s master.

‘If I drag this out any longer, it’ll get annoying.’

There were countless ways to handle someone to keep them from acting out—from the light to the dark—but applying them to the only son of the House of Salif was a hassle. Besides, as ‘Harut,’ he appreciated talent. It would be a waste to ruin the tongue or hands of such a bright man.

Before Antar’s gaze could harden further, Razard returned to his throne and plopped down. Sami, who had been dragged along while clinging to him, ended up kneeling right beside the throne by default.

Leaving the leg Sami was holding right where it was, Razard casually crossed his other leg. He rested his arm on the throne, which was adorned with precious animal furs and carpets woven with gold thread.

In an instant, the supple, playful man transformed into an arrogant, cruel ruler.

Adopting the posture of a master perfectly suited for such a blindingly opulent seat, Razard leaned back into the throne and toyed with the rings crowded on his fingers.

“I already have many pets, like Ratun and Akum here. And in the Glass Palace, there are more beauties than I could ever enjoy in a hundred days.”

His opening words were ominous.

Everyone present must have thought the same: ‘What on earth is he getting at?’

“However, I don’t have a human to keep as a pet yet.”

“Harut…”

“Something small, light… with round, gentle eyes and a clear amber color. I’ve been looking for one, deep down.”

It was over.

Antar squeezed his eyes shut. A silent sigh escaped through his tightly bitten lower lip.

“Wh—hic… what?”

Only Sami, seemingly unable to grasp the situation, just shifted his tear-soaked eyes around, trying to read the room. Every time he blinked, heavy droplets fell from his lashes.

“I searched so hard…”

Razard reached out without hesitation and scooped up Sami, who was huddled near his knees. Even though Sami was a full-grown man, albeit a slender one, he was lifted with ease. Then again, given that Razard had previously shown the freakish strength to lift Sami with a single finger, it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Sami and Razard’s gazes met at the same level.

“And here you are.”

Through his blurred, blotchy vision, Sami saw those intense yellow eyes, glowing like the afternoon sun.

His eyes were so radiant that the turban adorned with gold and jewels and the gold dust around his lids barely registered. The face, curved into a fresh smile with dark tear lines like a leopard’s, possessed a magical charm that left Sami staring blankly, utterly enchanted.

There was no mistake.

“Razard…”

It was Razard.

The mysterious, haughty man he’d met in the dark market alley.

The savior who had plucked him from a wicked spell.

The rogue who had whispered nonsense to him at the oasis.

The person he had shared his body with in the first dawn of his twentieth year.

The man who had watched the hyssop-scented nightscape from beneath a towering spire.

To me…

‘We’ll see each other again soon, so don’t be too surprised then.’

‘See you, Sami.’

The man who said he’d see me again.

He had harbored a small hope that they might meet someday, and though strange things always happened whenever they did…

He never imagined it would be like this.

“It really is you, Razard…”

At Sami’s enchanted murmur, Razard grinned again, baring his teeth.

“Using my name in this place again. How very bold.”

“…! N—no, a mistake—I mean, an insolence… hic… my apologies…”

“If I leave you like this, we’ll spend the whole day with you apologizing. Not that I’d mind.”

Still holding Sami, Razard turned his head.

“Son of Salif—Antar, was it?”

Unlike the playful tone from before, his voice now carried weight, as if being pressed down by a metal rod.

“It would be an unfair judgment to hold the virtuous and wise House of Salif responsible for a servant dropping an offering. Don’t you agree?”

“Ruler Harut…”

“Therefore, I shall hold the party involved responsible.”

Perhaps Razard had sensed it the moment they watched the night view from the spire.

“I’m taking this servant.”

Since Sami had come to the banquet, Razard knew things would flow this way. His words flowed smoothly, as if pre-ordained.

“If you wish to exchange my ‘mercy’ for something else…”

His voice pressed down heavily on Antar’s shoulders.

“I can only assume the House of Salif considers a few shiny stones in a crate more important than the mercy personally declared by Harut.”

“…Master Harut, Sami is but a common servant. He is a simple person who hasn’t been taught the refined manners of the court…”

No, stop. You shouldn’t say that.

Sami, having been busy crying and begging, couldn’t quite judge the nuances of the conversation or how his fate was being decided, but he could read Antar’s expression.

How many years had he lived as his servant? The young master he had served since he was old enough to count was looking more pale than Sami had ever seen him. Yet, his expression was stubborn.

He was clearly showing signs of wanting to decline Harut’s decision.

No. If he does that, Master Antar might get hurt.

Sami knew of Razard’s terrifying track record. He was a man who had casually slit open a Mage’s belly like a rabbit’s and told another Mage he’d cut out his tongue. He was the bizarre individual who had thrown Sami into a strange lake cave to have a Djinn of Marut possess him.

Regardless of him being helpful or showing strange favors, he was a dangerous man.

“I’ll do it!”

Before Antar could finish his sentence, Sami cut in quickly. Still being held by Razard, he just nodded his head frantically.

“I’ll do as Master Razard—no…! As Ruler Harut wishes.”

“…Sami!”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

Turning his back on Antar, who breathed Sami’s name in a hushed tone, Razard leaned back into his throne once more. The only difference from before was that Sami, who had been bowing at his feet, was now sitting on Razard’s lap.

With a very satisfied and refreshed look, Razard began stroking Sami’s head. A playful glint swirled in his golden, sun-yellow eyes.

“If this fellow has any belongings, dispose of them, leaving only three items. I’m not such a cruel master as to sever old ties completely. Oh, but burn his clothes. I will only permit things I have bestowed to touch this skin.”

“Wh—what?”

“I’ll send a separate attendant to wait on you while you’re in the palace, Antar. We can’t have the son of Salif being treated poorly, can we?”

“…Huh?”

Razard’s command was delivered in a casual tone, but it was incredibly swift. Just as when he intimidated Mage Bisan or when he got what he wanted from Sami, he took the flow into his own hands and manipulated it as he pleased, regardless of the other party’s reaction.

“Now then…”

In an instant, Sami’s world had changed.

As Sami sat there in a daze, his mouth agape, Razard placed a hand on his cheek. The beautifully crafted rings reflected the brilliant lights, emitting a dazzling array of colors. The clear, bright light of the jewels sparkled on Sami’s wet cheek.

The scent of the rings wafted into Sami’s nose. Watching that reaction with amusement, Razard used his finger to wipe away the moisture from Sami’s eyes.

Razard lightly pressed his forehead against Sami’s. The eyes meeting his were steady and hot, like a brand. For a very long time…

“Congratulations on becoming mine, Sami.”

He looked like a man who had been waiting for this exact moment.