"It has to be you?"
Sinbad hooted a noise like a laugh.
"What does that even mean? That you are vaster than their forgiveness? Hm? Or smaller than their mercy?"
"It means this."
Malik leaned forward at last.
"I have to protect this realm. Me: Their Sultan. No one else."
His fingers curled on the armrest.
"I won't allow some other man to take the fall for MY sins. MY COMPLACENCIES. I will NOT let someone else stitch their name into the wounds I MADE."
Sinbad looked down.
"But... but why? There has to be another way."
"There isn't. You should know that by now."
His little head snapped back up.
"That's not an answer!"
Malik let out a humorless chuckle.
"It's my only true answer."
"It... sounds selfish."
Sinbad sighed.
"Your convenience acting the part of nobility."
Malik shook his head.
"Sinbad, be honest… What else do I have? What else am I supposed to be?"
"...Elder Brother—"
He cut in, that question rhetorical.
