Ugegbe shifted restlessly in the hut where she'd been relocated. The king had still not made his entrance. Dusk was slowly approaching, yet, he was cooped up in his palace, unwilling to step out of its confines. Word had returned to her that all the servants the queen mother had sent to summon her son had returned with the message that the king wished to not be disturbed.

It was mind-boggling to consider his reason for postponing his marriage for so long. Ugegbe did not want to assume the worst of her husband-to-be, but it was almost as if he was broadcasting his unwillingness and dissatisfaction about marrying her to his entire kingdom. Even to a layperson, it would be obvious that his decision was inappropriate.

Yet again, Ugegbe could not blame him for his attitude towards their union. He was, in the end, in love with Ozioma. Not her. She only wished it didn't sting this much to be in possession of this bitter knowledge. The truth sometimes made a hard swallow.

"Your Majesty," a sharp knock whipped against the door before it opened wide. "I was told to bring you some food." One of the guards outside must have helped knock and clear the entrance for her because both of the young maiden's hands were occupied with wooden trays ladened with several calabashes.

Ugegbe was drawn to those bearing pounded yam and piping hot soup. One bowl had clear water for washing the fingers, and the other was a small cup with drinking water. The soup was stocked with assorted meats and fishes, but it must not have been deemed good enough for the queen-to-be, as there was another flat plate loaded with the delicate parts of a roasted antelope and ribboned cuts of cow skin.

The girl was carrying quite a lot. Ugegbe jumped to her feet to relieve her of a heavy platter. "Thank you very much, Your Majesty,"

She assured her that it was no problem. Then, lowering her voice, asked, "Who sent you?"

"The one who calls herself your mother, my queen. She sent me to deliver this to you, saying, 'no difference lies between a slave and a queen apart from the spoon they were born with.'"

It was the queen mother indeed. Before Ugegbe had departed from her abode, she had devised a saying that would prove it was her sending any gifts or messages. Only one trusted by Her Majesty would know what the content or meaning of that statement was.

As Ugegbe had come to understand, there were traitors within the palace, actively working for venomous vipers who sought to claim the throne for themselves. The dowager queen had informed her that the king had merely escaped poisoning by the breadth of a hair. He'd nearly come face to face with death, and this had sent the kingdom into a frenzy.

However, the chief who'd been persecuted for the poisoning was exonerated of the crime by the gods. Ultimately, the matter died down, as there were no more culprits to arrest. Still, that did not change the reality that someone had tried to kill the king. Granted, it was an underhanded method, but one that would have been successful had Onochie not been careful.

Ugegbe was not shocked to hear that that entire horde of chiefs ruling in Zoro were the queen mother's prime suspects. She rather thought that it was logical to be watchful of them. For it so happened that those closest to power coveted it much more than others.

If an attempt had been on the king's life had been made so brazenly, there was no certainty that she was safe. She had to be vigilant to protect herself and ensure no one thwarted her plans to rescue her father and bring him to Zoro; just as pressing was her need to care for the children she had adopted as her family.

In that manner, she had to be wary of the head chief. He was the biggest obstacle to the throne. He'd proved innumerably to be against the king's reign, questioning his lineage and unwed status slyly at any chance he got. Never mind his golden tongue and easy eloquence, the man was known to be as cunning as a tortoise.

The entire faction of chiefs was under him. It was a nearly impossible feat, but he had managed to achieve it; Iwegbuna had subjugated and transformed the leaders of Zoro into mindless subjects who followed his every desire and yielded to his whims.

Ugegbe thought that was most dangerous for the king. To not have a single official on his side was terrible. Who would he defer to for advice or support? She shook her head, concluding that he'd have no one. The faint notion occurred to her that she wanted to be of help to him. She wondered if there would ever come a time when he would let her.

Probably never. She shook herself out of her daydream, remembering that she was not the king's lover. Ozioma was. Thus, she would not wish to be more than she had to be—which was a placeholder for Onochie while another woman kept his heart.

"What did the queen mother say was the name of the queen?"

"Ugegbe." The maidservant replied promptly.

There it was: the final confirmation. "What is your name?" Ugegbe queried as she washed her hands, noting how the maiden's gaze lingered on the tempting food.

"Nneka, Your Majesty." She reported, bobbing a curtsy. Ugegbe smiled softly at the hungry child with sharp, bony features that could only be softened by food.

"Join me to eat, Nneka,"

She flew back, clearly aghast. "Oh no, Your Majesty! I could not do that!"

Her protest amused Ugegbe, who replied, "But I am asking you to."

"I know, Your Majesty. But... how can a mere servant dip their hand in the same plate with you?"

Ugegbe failed to restrain her laughter. If only Nneka knew that she was also a slave. But she had agreed with the dowager queen that revealing her identity was futile and would serve her no good. So she settled on saying, "You have my permission to do so. Though, it is your decision whether you wish to eat with me or not in the end." She concluded the conversation neatly and dug into her food.

A little while later, Nneka washed her hand in the clay bowl, murmured her thanks once again and attacked the pounded yam with the ferocity of a starved lion. Ugegbe grinned, pushing a piece of meat her way. She would not have been able to finish the food either way and was glad someone else was benefitting from it instead of unnecessary wastage.

Not too long after, the food was cleared clean from the plates. Ugegbe drank water and washed her hand, marvelling at how much Nneka had consumed. She was glad she'd invited her to share the portion with her.

Ugegbe gently rinsed her lips, mindful of the strips of Uli still on her face. Nneka, on the other hand, scrubbed her entire mouth and chin as if it were dirt and not oil on them. When she curtsied again in gratitude, nearly missing a step, Ugegbe chuckled and offered to help pile the dishes on a single tray to make the trip back to the palace kitchen easier. Nneka left in a flurry of endless thanks.

The room was silent again before Ugegbe realised that she needed to urinate. She hastily ventured out of the hut and asked the guards for the nearest outhouse, only to hear that she had to use the king's as it was the only one in the vicinity.

In all honesty, she wasn't sure whether to be bothered by that fact or not. What she did know was she would not let herself be daunted by the thought of the king relieving himself in private, where she would soon be doing so. It was a height of intimacy she wasn't yet ready to face or let cultivate.

"Thank you," she said to the bald guard, who bowed as she walked briskly away.

Since the king was still holed up in his palace, Ugegbe assured herself there would be no problem with running into him while she used his personal house. This thought hurried her up towards Onochie's private quarters. At a point, she trotted slightly, earning odd looks from the court guards. By now, most of them knew who she was and did not bother to stop her as she continued her journey.

With the quickness of a chased rabbit, she eased herself and was on her way back to her waiting room when the flash of a coral-red wrapper and fair skin caught her attention. This was most peculiar as Ugegbe had banished herself to the shadows of the thatched roofs with a mind to hide from the harsh sun. As the shaded regions tuned a soft breeze that was cool on her brow and had grounds that were lukewarm under her feet, she did not have a reason to hurry through. This person, however, did.

Ugegbe wondered if there was a fire on the mountain or an impending disaster she was unaware of. She speared quizzing glances around her, but there was nothing to be found. It was obvious to her that the woman who had hastened past was no servant. Servants could not afford clothes dyed so perfectly that they would cost bags of cowries. Moreover, that silky fair skin was all too familiar. She had only met one maiden that lacked as much pigmentation in her complexion as that.

Ozioma.

There was no other option for Ugegbe. She followed in the direction she'd watched the king's lover vanish. It was behind one of the servants' lodges. Deep into the dark passage, a man's voice stopped Ugegbe in her tracks. She stiffened down to her bones. It was most tragic to be subject to the grating noise again after she'd thought herself to have escaped it entirely.

What was Ifediaso doing in the palace? And why in the world was he speaking to Ozioma? Ugegbe strained her ears to catch a morsel of their conversation. All she heard were muffled sounds. Against her better judgement, she inched deeper into the damp corner, disliking that she was farther away from escape.

"What can I do, Ifediaso? The gods did not choose me." Ugegbe heard the exhaustion and fatigue that coated the woman's words and felt shameful for stealing her place.

"You better come up with a new plan, Ozioma! I did not bet my life on you to fail me like this." He barked, and Ugegbe cringed into herself. The cruelty in the man was as frightening as ever. She hated that his miserable existence was back in the same space as she was.

Hadn't Kamalu assured her that he would no longer be a problem? How, then, had he wormed his way back into her present? It was strange that he was back despite his punishment—though not nearly as anomalous as the apparent relationship between Ozioma and the wicked devil. Were they friends? Acquaintances? Partners in some crime?

Did Ozioma perhaps owe him money that she hoped to repay once she was queen? That was a sensible conclusion but not so plausible since Ozioma's family was well-to-do. As the queen mother had mentioned, she was the granddaughter of a former chief and a distant relative of the head chief. Ugegbe was at a loss of what to assume, deciding to focus on eavesdropping instead of hopping from one conclusion to the other.

It was too dark to see what they were doing, but Ugegbe heard the shuffling of feet, which told her they had either moved closer together or farther apart. Ifediaso's snarling voice rebounded through the small space, though in a softer tone than before. "What I have asked of you should not be too difficult if you love me as I do you, Ozioma."

Love? Ugegbe almost squeaked in shock. Her ears had heard what her tongue could not speak of. But if she thought that was all, she was in for a fouler surprise when Ozioma said, "I love you more than life itself, Ifediaso. I love you so much that I agreed to use the king so you would get what you deserved. But there is nothing I can do now. The gods have chosen the foreign maiden. We cannot change their will or—"

"Be quiet!" Ifediaso cut her off without any respect for the fact that she started speaking before him. "Do you hear that?"

"What am I supposed to hear?" Ozioma answered anxiously with an undertone of irritation lining her question. Ugegbe held her breath, willing him to pick up their discussion from where it'd dropped.

"Somebody is here!" He exclaimed, and Ugegbe knew it was over.

She took to her heels, racing out of the enclosure and arcing right into the open pyramid of the king's property. It was a blind scramble through narrow paths and tight spaces between huts. So intent she was on getting away that she did not mark the moment she plowed face-first into the chest of an imposing figure. The force of the impact threw her off balance.

Ugegbe panicked, but strong arms foiled her fall, banding around her waist and cradling her hips. Her heartbeat was wild and erratic as a handsome face peered down at her, endearingly puzzled. "Where are you running to, my dear wife?"
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