The One and Only Sami Chapter 33

How on earth did this happen?

“…”

“Is this better? You know, green actually suits you surprisingly well.”

…Is this really happening? Is all of it real?

Sami stared blankly at what was in front of him.

Veils so transparent you could see right through them hung like beaded curtains from the four white arched pillars of the bed. Beyond them, he could see the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered man.

Soon, a hand reached out and swept the veil aside without a care. It was the hand of a grown man, bones and veins standing out with strength. The rings on every finger were as extravagant as this luxurious room demanded.

“Now… which of these looks best to you, Sami?”

Hearing his name, Sami lifted his head with a sluggish, weary motion.

“Razard…”

“Yes?”

The most precious person in this land, Harut, replied with a beaming smile.

It was why Sami still wondered if this was all a dream.

‘Congratulations on becoming mine, Sami.’

From the moment he had said that, everything had moved along like clockwork, as if it had been prepared long ago. Even if Sami, the very center of that flow, felt like he was simply being swept away by a current.

The first thing he experienced as Harut’s “human pet” was sitting huddled in a bathroom decorated with arched pillars and antique patterned tiles, being attended to for a bath.

Sami didn’t lift a finger as he was soaked in fragrant, lukewarm water and had his skin softened with gentle floral oils. No, he couldn’t lift a finger.

The women in charge of his grooming never let Sami wash himself. They maintained expressions so stoic they were impossible to read and continued to adorn him without uttering a single word.

“Um… I can do it myself.”

“…”

Sami gathered his courage to speak, but like people under a strict command, not one of them answered him.

They trimmed his fingernails and toenails into neat rounds and rubbed his heels with oiled sandalwood to make them soft. They combed his hair meticulously, finishing it with rose oil.

In no time, the maidservants had turned Sami into a body that smelled of soft fragrance, sat him on the bed, and quietly closed the door.

And Sami? He couldn’t even properly react to that polite yet swift service. By the time he came to his senses, he had been transformed into something as smooth as a peeled egg and dropped onto the bed.

He just sat there, dazed and lost. He had no idea how much time had passed. It didn’t seem like it had been that long.

When the door opened again, the person who appeared was…

‘Hello, Sami.’

Of course, it was that man.

“…Razard.”

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“It really is you.”

“That’s right. It’s really me.”

“But you’re Razard…”

“Exactly.”

Since he entered the room, this kind of foolish, repetitive back-and-forth had been going on.

Sami would murmur his name as if possessed, and Razard would answer every single time without a hint of annoyance.

Leaving Sami to be either stunned or rambling, Razard busied himself trying necklaces one by one against Sami’s skin.

“Hmm. Green is nice, but I think just wrapping you in gold without any jewels might be better too…”

“…”

“Maybe I’ll just do both. Your frame is still small, so you can’t carry too many ornaments yet. I wish you’d grow just a little bit more.”

“Razard…”

“Yes, Sami.”

Razard smiled softly and looked Sami straight in the eye.

The moment their eyes met, Sami was struck dumb again.

Earlier in the audience chamber, the man had rebuked him, saying a mere servant dared to speak the ruler’s name so casually. Now, he was answering to it quite willingly.

Sami found it harder and harder to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t just confusion; it felt like his brain was about to fry.

Regardless, Razard placed a necklace made of several layers of very fine chains around Sami’s neck.

“Why, why… Razard, Harut…”

“That’s me too.”

“But how…”

“If you ask how, well. I was born this way?”

Now Razard held an earring between his index and middle fingers, holding it up to Sami’s earlobe. His faint, smiling expression was, once again, perfectly relaxed and casual.

Before, that face had been frustrating, but now it was just overwhelming and frightening.

“…”

But he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was the same ruler from the audience hall.

‘Well, he is Razard.’

The way he handled priceless jewels as carelessly as if they were pebbles was no different from the way he used to walk through the market streets with his scimitar slung sideways.

An arrogant attitude that seemed to have thrown humility out the window was ingrained in him, but since he was born brilliant (and truly was), such a nature was understandable.

Even so…

“This makes no sense.”

“Earrings still look a bit awkward, after all. Your hair needs to be longer.”

“Ple—please send me back.”

“…”

Razard’s hands, which had been moving casually while he entertained the conversation, stopped instantly.

Razard pulled back the sapphire earring he had been holding near Sami’s ear. The large, teardrop-shaped gem sparkled in his hand.

Only after he had calmly finished the task he was doing—regardless of whether Sami was dazed or pleading—did Razard speak.

“No.”

“Razard…!”

“You said it with your own mouth. Are you going to be petty and change your mind after saying you’d be mine?”

Razard used the hand holding the earring to give the tip of Sami’s nose a light, playful tap.

The words were a rebuke, but the tone and voice were full of lighthearted mischief.

Razard bared his teeth in a grin. It was the mischievous face of any other idle rogue, but the meaning behind it was too heavy to be dismissed as a “joke.”

“I’ll let it slide maybe twice more.”

“…I…”

“I figure by the time I hear that for a third time… I’ll have thought of exactly what kind of punishment to give you.”

“…”

Sami was an intelligent servant. He was good at reading his master’s moods and expressions, often doing what needed to be done before they even opened their mouths or moved a hand.

It was the same now. He knew exactly what he had to do to be a “good Sami.”

He just had to keep his lips shut and leave his body quietly to the man’s touch.

However.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That… you, I mean, Master Razard… was…”

“Harut?”

At Razard’s amused question, Sami’s lips moved, but he ultimately let his head drop. As the Razard he knew began to overlap more and more with this man, it was hard to shake the doubt. Then again, even if he had told him, Sami wouldn’t have believed it.

“You think I was hiding it? I told you several times. There isn’t a place in this country I can’t enter. Do you think it was just other people’s houses? I went in and out of the oases and even the palace gates as I pleased. In the first place, how many people do you think would walk the streets carrying that much Marut?”

Thud. Razard tossed the earring onto the bed and looked down at the boy—no, the young man—with a pensive air.

He was acting brazen, but of course, Razard had been hiding it. He just hadn’t gone out of his way to conceal it. He simply had never informed the oblivious Sami of his status.

“Sami. You’re the one who failed to see clearly.”

Even knowing the truth, Razard pushed Sami.

He felt the need to “refine” him a little. He pushed with a fair bit of decisiveness.

The boy’s body might be foolishly innocent, but his lifestyle and thoughts had been handled by others far too much. To keep him to his own taste, Razard couldn’t afford to give him any room to argue.

Above all, now that Sami was in his hands, he had to make him understand how things worked.

To whom his body had been passed, and who his new master was.

Sami’s eyes went wide before he dropped his head again. He looked shocked. If Razard didn’t feel a pang of pity for those wavering eyes and that face looking as lost as if he’d been left alone in the desert, he’d be lying.

“You probably saw me as…”

Sweet comfort could come later. For now, he needed a reality check.

“A storyteller who would give you a fantasy for a thousand and one nights.”

“Th—that’s…!”

Sure enough, Sami blurted out a response to Razard’s words. It was a statement that even swept away the sense of betrayal that had been welling up toward Razard.

“…That’s…”

He had no words. He had been hit right where it hurt.

Sami’s fingertips twitched and trembled before he tightly gripped the bedsheets.