Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death-Chapter 274: She Didn’t Even Try

Huda's eyes glistened... but not for long.

"I'm—I'm not even close to you."

It seemed that she finally realized the obvious truth.

Malik was much higher than her in rank; even she had to notice it.

"You don't need to be like me."

She bit her lip.

"Big brother... I... if I don't go through with this, then what? What happens to the villages on our borders? What happens to the treaties? My father had already talked with them. If I run away now and stop the marriage from happening, they'll get... mad. What if—what if people die because I was selfish?"

He clenched his jaw.

It appeared that he wasn't the only kind one around.

She, too, was sacrificial... too kind for her own good.

Malik didn't want anyone to go through what he did, and so...

He did what he did best.

"You know… Zawaya wasn't an accident."

Huda froze.

"…What?"

His voice was low. Empty.

"You and your brother didn't wake up down there because of an accident. They knocked you out and threw you in that alleyway... They did it because they wanted to see if you'd live."

She blinked.

"What're you talking about—?"

"Cyrus."

He interrupted her.

"It was he who organized it. He put you there. Called it a trial."

Huda stared at him. Eyes wide. Face slowly shifting from confused to scared to something colder.

"That's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

She shook her head.

"You—what do you mean a trial?"

"They knew you'd break. They wanted you to. Wanted to see who'd crawl out. Who'd come back useful... It's why you were learning to be Sultan while your brother lay... dead."

Huda stepped back like he'd slapped her.

"That… That can't be right. You're lying."

"I'm not."

She laughed—sharp, bitter.

"Now? Now you wanna bring this up? Now, after I told you what they asked me to do, you're pulling this?"

He looked up at her, eyes blank.

"I'm telling you the truth."

"You're manipulating me."

He frowned.

"...No."

"Y-Y-You think if you say the right thing, I'll back out of the marriage, that I'll run off with you, and everything will magically work out."

"I don't think anything will work out."

"Then why say it?!"

"Because Sinbad died for nothing."

The name hit like a brick to the chest.

She flinched, and then—

"No... no. Don't you dare. Don't you dare use him to twist this—"

"I'm not."

"He was my brother, Malik."

"I know."

"I loved him."

"I know."

"And you think you can use that pain—my pain—just to keep me for yourself?"

Malik's frown deepened.

"That's not—"

"Where's the necklace? Did you throw it away? Did he mean that little to you?!"

"No, I still have it."

"Then why aren't you wearing it?"

"I... It..."

Malik didn't have an answer.

He couldn't tell her that he broke it.

Right now, she was unable to see reason; her delusion had flared to the maximum.

So even if he told her everything, she'd still find a way to blame it on him.

"..."

That was it.

Malik did the only thing he believed was left to do: stay silent.

Huda looked down, her anger flaring.

"...Do you even love me, big brother?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

Silence.

She stepped closer, fists clenched.

"Do you? If you do, I'll leave with you right now. I'll even forget..."

Her eyes met his.

"This."

He blinked.

"No."

...Malik didn't love her.

How could he love someone he didn't remember?

He could've lied of course, told her what she wanted to hear, but as was known by now, he was not one to lie to family.

Her eyes widened, and she laughed again, ever angrier.

"T-T-Then why say that? What do you want from me?!"

"I am telling the truth."

Her hands rushed to her head, grabbing her hair.

"Do you really want me to believe that? A fantasy about my OWN father selling me out? Sending me and my brother to die? That my uncle is really evil?!"

He couldn't do anything but repeat this one sentence:

"I am telling the truth."

Unable to process the implications of it all, her little bubble bursting, she began to cry, tears streaking down her cheeks, hot and angry and absolutely frustrated.

"I would've said no..."

She whispered.

"If you'd just told me you loved me, I really would've said no."

"…Huda—"

"But now? I don't know what to believe..."

She looked away.

"I don't know what the Well did to you... But I don't know who you are anymore."

With that, she turned and left.

She didn't storm off.

Just… walked.

Meanwhile, Malik stood there, no longer looking at her.

He was alone.

The stablehands were long gone, knowing best how to keep their heads intact.

Sighing softly, his right hand fumbled around his belt, unbuckling a pouch.

Opening it, he took out a tiny book, a pink S engraved on it.

Heh.

Of course.

Malik leaned back against the wall behind him, eyes half-lidded.

He remembered it.

Clear as if it were yesterday.

Back in Al-Fawra, Sinbad's body in his embrace.

When Malik could barely think or even breathe after reaching them.

After surrendering to fate.

Cyrus had shown up.

He stood at the cave's entrance, casual, like he was watching a theater play.

Malik didn't know who he was back then; he didn't even know who the Sultan was, but he already knew him as a bastard of bastards, his enemy, and this enemy had asked one question that stuck with him till this day.

"…Do you think she'll do the same to you?"

Malik clenched his jaw even harder.

He was asked if Huda would ever put in the same effort as he did.

If she would ever do everything in her power, explore every avenue, and stand up against the world's strongest as he did.

But now—now—standing alone in this stable.

He finally knew the answer.

'She didn't even try to listen.'

He'd told her. Everything. Honest.

And she still thought it was about her.

Still thought it was a trick. A selfish act. An emotional bribe.

Stuck in a bubble of naivety, unable to believe the horrors humans were capable of.

Horrors they'd inflict even to their own family members, something that he had experienced firsthand.

Malik closed his eyes and let out a quiet breath.

He no longer had the capability to feel heartbreak.

Screaming was far from his mind.

There was only one thing left.

Just a kind of… tired silence.

She wasn't wrong to be hurt.

To be confused, to be delusional.

But she was so damned wrong about him.

And he didn't have the chance to say anything about it.

Maybe that's what stung the most.