Malik didn't say a word as he walked out of the stables.
He didn't breathe like a man hurting.
Like her, he just… left.
And so that was that.
Another story was over.
Another tie was cut.
...
...
...
The banquet hall was sparkling gold.
Crystals and pearls and damn near every color that screamed rich bastard were ever present.
Massive chandeliers spun slowly overhead, built with white glass and diamonds so clear they looked like frozen tears.
Dotted about the hall were tables, and these tables curved like a crescent moon in layers, stacked from the marble floor to the viewing balconies, all pointing toward the ivory platform where the main table sat.
The one meant for the "Blessed Guests."
Nobles of all manners and looks filled the area, chatting away.
Only one man remained alone, sipping on a drink he didn't quite like.
That man was Malik.
He was right in the middle of it all.
And though he was alone, everyone wanted to talk to him.
