The Vizier's suspicion didn't waver; if anything, it hardened like setting concrete. He merely raised a single, skeptical eyebrow. The Princess, however, beamed with a radiant smile, while Kaser offered a tentative, hopeful grin.
"I told you," the Princess said, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "He is simply disoriented. He needs rest. He has returned from death, or a coma, or whatever state held him. Stop pressuring him, Vizier, or you will see a side of me you will not like."
Yamen looked at her from the corner of his eye, his jaw tight. He swallowed his anger and sighed.
"Very well. But I will watch him until I am certain of his truth."
Malik rose from the chair. The food had done its work; energy hummed through his limbs, chasing away the numbness of the grave. He looked at each of them in turn, then fixed his gaze on the Princess.
"Tell me," he said, his voice steady. "How much time has passed while I slept? Update me on the world."
