Six eyes blinked at Ugegbe like she were one newly returned from the dead. Four did so from the dark bordering the first few steps of the room while the last doubled coal orbs jittered on the face belonging to a body just outside her reach. She might have sworn she'd taken the form of a ghost since her encounter with the snake if pain hadn't resulted from the secret pinch she inflicted on herself earlier.

Her orbs rolled back in their sockets as she breathed in the heavy, stuffy air. She felt feverish, like the hands of ill had taken hold of her and was desperate to not let go. Everything hurt. Her neck, her mouth, her hands. All her nerves burned with a fierceness that she despised having to bear.

"Are you alright?" The huge woman, who gave the impression of being a herbalist since she was versed in plants' benefits, stepped into her view, barring off the other men.

She troubled her head to move with exasperation. "N-no." Her limbs felt paralysed at her sides as if she'd never made use of them before. She could barely move a single one, just as it'd taken all the strengths in her to force her tongue to budge.

"I am here to help you." The language spoken was almost exactly like hers, but it wasn't so similar. It was effortlessly that she reckoned, quite speedily, that she was not in her hometown.

She had little doubts that she had escaped the shadows of Osisi and was currently in Zoro. This was a relief since being back in the village of her birth meant that she'd be relinquished into the hands of those who wanted her dead for her sins.

The strange woman, who had plants and beads in her tall mane, had fed her foul-tasting broth and treated her in this peculiar place of her first visit. It would have been startling to have woken up in such strange holds if she wasn't so thankful for the unfamiliarity of the premises about her.

Her life would be in danger at once if it were not so. To begin, she'd hurt Prince Nnofo to the point that he would never recover. Secondly, she had not finished paying off her debt as a slave. To top it all, she'd abandoned everything and raced away. The Chief debtor, Mmeremikwu, to whom many owed money but was due to none but himself, was no doubt searching for her in every nook and cranny.

The thought was enough to cause her to shudder violently.

Her shiver must have been noted by a hawk eye as the muteness in the room was sliced through immediately. "You are still sick. Very much so." The woman with a velvety voice spoke to her. "You must sleep to gain your strength. Then you heal as your body needs."

From her eavesdropping on the woman's boisterous chattering, while she prayed to her gods on behalf of a patient she knew not, she'd realised that there was almost as much in common as in contrast in their mother tongues.

First, it was the 'r's and 'l's. They were flipped over how she could not decipher when the woman spoke. The words she used also... they were indelibly weird. Ugegbe could understand their meanings, but not because she had a clear definition of them in her internal diction. Rather it was from picking up clues in the context of her benefactor's ramblings.

The strange terms that did not register in her mind, she consequently contemplated their currentness. One of them she'd seized by luck at recalling her father's lips forming it at least once in the past. Thus, it was likely that Zoro still guarded its ancient diction and forced modernity had not yet swooped in to cart away history on dark wings.

She wondered how they lived. Perhaps in thoroughly traditional, older huts like this one seemed to be from inward. Maybe with more open doors than in Osisi.

Currently, she was in a room, one she could tell, had a window faced to the East. This was apparent as she found the sun setting through the wide opening. It'd been a mental jolt. Never had she been in a house in Osisi that did not greet the rising sun in the West through its opening.

This revelation, nonetheless, told her nothing of the people. Humans were indubitably more troublesome than erected buildings, with more than the fact that they built the former standing against her contemplations.

Were those in this hidden city more caring for one another? Were there fewer atrocities committed against a brother or sister? Was justice served how it should be without obstructions here?

She hadn't an inkling of the norms, especially whether they were more severe than in her homestead. But she was certain she'd be finding out soon. If there was one thing she'd mentally recorded of these people: it was they were not the trickiest she'd come across.

She'd successfully fooled them into believing that she'd just regained consciousness, but she'd been well awake for a while. Her deceit enabled her to gain her bearings and gather indications of where she was. So far, there were still millions of missing pieces in her comprehension.

"You can come in, my—" the woman faltered, and Ugegbe wondered what had stalled her. "Come in and speak to her, both of you." She spoke timidly. There was wavering in her voice, which Ugegbe could not put a finger to or trace its origin. The company drudging further past the doorpost seemed relatively harmless.

The taller man with the fair mark over his face waded in first, his torso somewhat shielding the other. If Ugegbe wasn't watching them so sharply, she would not have noticed the subtle hint. "I am Kamalu." He nodded at her, then his gaze darted to his companion almost skittishly. If there was one thing she was convinced of, it was that Kamalu was quite protective of his friend.

"Onochie is my name." The second one stepped forward, and Ugegbe's brow jerked at the ripples that burrowed under her skin. His voice was...different. It was not the deepest she'd encountered. In fact, it was far from being so.

The first fellow, Kamalu, had a voice box that overshadowed his own easily, but she could not get that note out of her head. Even though he was no longer speaking. It was a raspy sound that thrilled her, and she could not help but wish that he had more to say. Something had ignited in her gut, and she was beyond scared of it, of how it coiled, cool and sleek in her core. It was a...surprise.  One she was sure to dismiss as a mistake.

She pondered if both men were brothers. It wasn't something she could be sure of. They looked nothing alike, except if you counted their lanky figures. But even that amounted to nothing when she considered their builds. Kamalu, as he'd introduced himself, had a bulkier statue with muscles rippling through every movement he made. He was attractive to look at, and she was sure most women wouldn't mind a day or more of doing so. He'd make a gorgeous husband.

The other man, who she redrafted in her head as Onochie, was more slender with a wiry frame in contrast. Her gaze flickered downward. His hands were quite large on him, and for an unknown reason, she wanted them attached to her body, holding, cradling her. She almost sputtered. Where did such foul thoughts come from? Had her brain suffered from the snake's poisonous ill?

Ugegbe turned from him. That was it! She would avoid staring at him for as long as she could, and perhaps, she would successfully dispel this attraction she felt towards him. It was like a string, pulling and tugging her to him. And by the heavens, she wanted it severed.

Disgust was the emotion she forced her brain to lose footing over and reflect on. At herself and at the man now before her. How dare him to rouse such sentiments in her? She detested the sensations. No, him. Actually, she hated neither. Her distaste was to herself alone at that juncture. Why should she burden the poor male who knew nothing of her inner musings or sinful thoughts? No maiden should think like that. What had she become? Did she lose herself in that room with the First Prince?

That sobered her up slightly. It was not outlandish that she was deprived of a layer of her innermost self while she'd been with the man who had been inclined to bring her harm. There was a higher probability of, than not, her missing her innocence—that bright, starry-eyedness that allowed her to not awesome the worst of people at first glimpse.

She'd changed.

The first prince had brought to life the most traumatising experience she had ever come upon, and she yet was unsure of how to feel about it. So, she'd bottled up those moments, stowed them away, eons below her consciousness, underneath the sandy banks of her essence, where it would be difficult to reach on a first attempt.

"Are you alright, Ezinwanyi?" She was hurled back to the present at his voice, and a soft hum arose in her blood, thrumming more loudly and potently. Why, oh, why was he caring for her well-being? She strained her eyes shut, refusing to glance at him though he was peering at her without relent. And why in the name of everything she held dear was he calling her by her mother's name so earnestly?

No one had mentioned the appellation since she initially gave it out—shivering at the slight panic that budded at the information she'd deliberately omitted—until him. He'd said it like it was the most beautiful word in existence. Like he wanted to worship it. No, like he wanted to worship its owner.

Ugegbe felt her breathing grow shallower with each drag in of air. Never had she coped with these emotions. Not even Muoneke had successfully roused her this way. That was how she knew this was wrong in every form and manner.

Lust. It was all lust she felt. Confirmed it was that she had never experienced it as profoundly before. At present, she was being ravaged from the inside by its talons. However, it made no difference. It was not proper to long after a man one knew not, craving passion from him when their meet was not up to an hour ago, and she was thoroughly mortified that she'd been caught in the traps of carnality.

"I fear she is tired, my...Onochie." Ugegbe again heard the shake in the woman's voice as she stumbled over her sentence and would have ascended an eyebrow if she wasn't so bent on pretending to be in need of sleep. If she was left to rest, the object of her attraction would be gone, and so would the source of her avid desire for a man she knew not. Both outcomes were such she dearly hoped for.

"Then, we shall leave and let her rest." The decision was exactly what she wanted. Ugegbe pinched the corners of her lips inward, as they were twitching, about to render a smile. They would finally be departing. Though, she mused regretfully, the charming hoarseness of his voice would be missed. Nevertheless, she was glad she'd had the opportunity to hear it. Well, it was all goodbyes now.

Loud shuffling creased into Ugegbe's wide-open ears as wrappers warped around, announcing movements. "That is the best option for now. She will need to sleep off the effects of the fever. It is good that she is one of the stronger." The tall woman replied, and Ugegbe realised she did not have a memory of her name, despite having heard it earlier.

"We will return tomorrow. Perhaps, she will be stronger, well enough to speak to us." No, no, no. Ugegbe opposed in the shelters of her mind. Why in the world would they be returning? Why couldn't they stay away? Why couldn't he stay away?

Wouldn't it be preferable if she spoke to the herbalist only, who would then take the time to relate back whatever information requested of her? Why did they need to trouble themselves with being present? Didn't these men have better things to do? Families to attend to?

Fetters of panic latched onto her in an evil embrace. Dread formed an obsidian rock in her stomach. What if... What if he was married? What if he had children from a wife he loved and cherished dearly?

Ugegbe sensed the bile making its way upward but clamped on its advancement, shoving it away. It would all be for the best. If that assumption was reality, that meant she could disintegrate the lust that had risen for him, letting it evanescence as she would never betray a woman like that. She could cheerfully forget all that happened. Merrily forget him.

Why then was she inundated by this great misery?
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