***
{Inside The Projection}
The minute Malik stepped out that damn door, Cyrus called after him, voice echoing down the marble hall, still annoyingly casual, like this whole thing was a joke to him:
"Oh! One more thing, kiddo."
Malik stopped mid-step and turned back to him.
Cyrus sipped his tea real slow, and met his eyes.
"I'm sure you're wondering who's taking MY daughter's place."
"..."
Unbothered by the cold reception, he continued:
"There's another... candidate. Younger. Much younger. Much, much, younger. A little, little, little, little, little, prodigy, honestly. He's just been born, actually. No offense to Huda, but I've already picked him as the golden child. So when the time comes…"
He smiled.
"He gets to sit on the Golden Throne."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Silence.
Malik's face remained blank.
He didn't turn around and leave yet, knowing Cyrus had more to say.
And he was right, as Cyrus continued right after pouring himself another cup of tea.
