"They told him he doesn't belong there... God…"
The guy didn't finish his words, too busy wheezing.
A young lad nearer the front buried his head in his arms, shoulders shaking with laughter.
"My uncle got turned to ash for looking at the Sultan too long back in his village… But these two red-scarf idiots? Nah, go ahead, tell him to leave."
Even the older Magi who liked to act dignified couldn't help it. Covering their mouths, pretending to cough while their bodies shook with stifled snorts.
"I swear I would've rather fought him myself than be those guards right now. They're already dead. They just don't know it."
The projection kept playing before and above them—Malik standing tall, calm, his face unreadable, looking down at the poor man who dared puff out his chest.
"I mean—how funny is it that it happened there? Of all places? Lady Huda's home. The Former Sultan's palace! The place of honor—etiquette! And they dared say that to him of all people!"
