Ali Baba couldn't tear his eyes from the picture of his father, the person who had taken the center of the royal painting, while he listened to Arslan telling the story.
His mother was right all along; his father was a hero, an invincible knight.
How was he the son of that hero? He couldn't blame Wael for doubting or mocking that claim.
There was a moment of silence as everyone absorbed the story.
Zarqa had to admit she was surprised. Even though she was the one who linked the dots, she didn't expect Ali Baba's father to have that kind of legendary past.
Arslan held up the dagger in his hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. " For you to have this on you, I can already guess that the Black Lion is no longer with us."
Ali Baba bit his lip and clenched his fists, but he didn't look back. He merely gave the slightest of nods.
