Ugegbe knew she had to tell him. She had to tell Onochie the truth. He'd trusted her with his secret. Now, it was time she extended him that same courtesy. Be that as it may, she never once requested for his consideration. Still, it would make her terrible for not reciprocating his kindness.

For the king had given her the chance to leave. He'd offered her his protection if she decided that she couldn't stand the sight of him and wanted to return to her hometown. Ugegbe had made her choice. Yet, for all her rationalising and logical thinking, she could not loosen her tongue enough to reveal the secret weighing her down like a rock tied around a man's neck.

Pouring the last drop of water in the bucket over her head, Ugegbe sighed aloud. Her thoughts were running around in circles, but she still had not gotten to the crux of her problem. As she dried her body with a wrapper, she reflected on why it was so impossible for her to tell Onochie the truth. Was it because she was scared of being labelled a murderer? Or the fact that once her truth was uncovered, she would lose her place in Zoro and be forced to return to Osisi? Or was it because of him—Onochie?

Ugegbe did not want to know what his reaction would be once he found out that she'd been lying to him all along. She was certain that it would be a mix of anger and disappointment. Reflecting what he had done at the Igba Nkwu, Ugegbe recalled how surprised she had been to note that Onochie regarded her with more respect than most men had given her.

That he allowed her to make her choice and had spoken to her as an equal without arrogance or condescension while doing so proved that he was nothing like most of the men she had encountered. Most especially not the former crown prince of Osisi, who had been destined to rule the kingdom until Ugegbe committed the unforgivable.

Clasping a shaky hand in her other fist, Ugegbe assured herself of her safety. No one knew about her past. No one knew what she had done. Thus, she did not have to worry about her secret being exposed. Moreover, she hadn't revealed her real name to anyone but the Queen mother, and—she supposed—Okoh and his sisters. But they were only children. They would not harm her with that knowledge. They didn't even know the significance of her answering to two names.

Ugegbe wondered how they were doing. She hoped they were living well with Bundo. It had escaped her to ask how they felt about their new living arrangement when she'd picked them up earlier in the day. With the Igba-Nkwu preparations and ceremony, there'd been no chance for her to sneak out to visit them. Dusk had come too quickly for her to achieve anything else aside from marrying the King of Zoro.

Speaking of the king, Ugegbe noted she had not caught a glimpse of him since she served him the palm wine before the queen mother, the chiefs, and his people. It was an experience she would never forget. The entire courtyard had been deathly silent as she received the gourd of wine from the dowager queen and had erupted in jubilee after Onochie claimed the calabash and drank deeply from it till not a single drop was left.

Though in her new hut, Ugegbe found herself transported back in time to that single moment. She remembered the feeling that had swelled in her bosom, bright and sweet, watching Onochie drink from her hands. It had been a sentiment most akin to pride, and Ugegbe could not, for the life of her, explain why she would be proud to serve a man who was promised to another woman.

She hated herself for allowing her emotions to get the best of her when it came to rational logic. She hated that there was the likelihood, insignificant as it was, that she could get used to being married to Onochie. That there was an even more disturbing chance she could grow to desire, and worse, enjoy this arrangement for more than the security it granted her.

Because Ugegbe was fully aware that it would not take much for her to start longing for him all over again despite her decision to let go of any thoughts of loving or being loved by him. She'd caught her heart skipping more beats than was humanly possible when Onochie pulled her up from the ground and given her the most striking grin that sent her knees buckling.

If not for his strong arm wound like a rope around her waist, she might have had to pick herself up from the ground, probably having to deal with the extra task of wiping dirt off of her face. It was her fortune that Onochie had been there to save her from untold debilitating embarrassment.

Wordlessly, Ugegbe smoothed her palm over her midriff, softly gasping at the lingering sensation. The warmth of his hold was still there despite their contact being hours ago. Oh how would she survive being married to him? How would she live through him not loving her when every cursed thing he did caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter up a storm? She figured it was going to be a much more torturous experience than if she truly hated him. It was unfortunate that she could not find a way of escape. She had chosen to stay, and now she was bound to him, whether it was of her preference or not.

Outside the hut was nearly pitch black. Darkness was a thick mantle over all below since the sun rehired home. Ugegbe watched as more torches awoken and glowing lamps fought against the damp skirts of the night. Lost in her head, Ugegbe startled at a guard marching past her window.

She drew back, retiring to the single bed in the room. It was obvious what its presence meant. Even without the queen mother telling her about the tradition of the kings of Zoro making nest in their wife's chambers for the first few weeks, she had been on earth long enough to understand the transaction that was initiated on the first night of a couple's married life. She knew what she was expected to give her husband and was resigned to the fate. At least this time, it would be on her own terms. Her dignity would not be ripped away from her clutches. No, this time, she would give it of her own accord and to her wishes. To her man who deserved it.

As Ugegbe rested on the softest bed she had ever laid on, a small gust circled the room and snuffed the single lamp. Wrapped in the warm embrace of sleep, she could not find the motivation to leave her comfortable position to relight it. Instead, she snuggled in tight and closed her eyes, conveniently forgetting that she had said yes to convening with Kamalu later in the night. There was something he was going to tell her, wasn't there?

༄༄༄

Onochie could not define this madness that had taken over him. Here he was watching the woman he had loved for years speak. Yet, he could not muster up a single ounce of fondness for her. Each time he tried to, all he could picture was Ezinwanyi, her beautiful lips, her mesmerising eyes, her carefully sculpted chin, and he was further convinced that her beauty had ruined him.

From the moment she'd knelt and served him that calabash of wine till now, not once had she departed from his thoughts. In the midst of a thousand things that could have occupied his mind, she was the one constant. Every other existed around and orbited her.

Even now as Ozioma lamented the unfair hand the gods had dealt her, Onochie could not stay grounded long enough in reality to grasp the solutions she had tendered to the problem of him being married to a woman who was not her. His mind kept wandering back to Ezinwanyi, hovering over her very existence. He felt like he might combust off he did not see her soon.

"Your Majesty, can you listen to me!" Ozioma screamed, her voice painfully piercing. Onochie had continued to not pay her mind, but unlike the previous instances of his absent mind, she had taken note of it. "You do not care! You do not care for what I say or how I feel! You do not care for me!" Her pitch turned shriller and more high-pitched with each accusation. Onochie feared his ears would split into two from the sheer force that came from her range.

"I do care, Ozioma. I care for you very much. I do not want you to come to hurt, and I am sorry that despite my best attempts, that is all that seems to be happening." Onochie tendered with the deepest sincerity. He truly cared for Ozioma. He did not want her to suffer. She was beautiful both within and on the outside.

No other woman had left such a profound mark on him. Only she had moved him to change his horrible womanising ways, and he would always be grateful for how much she'd loved him even when he'd thought himself undeserving. Yet, while he would always be fond of her, Onochie could not say he still loved her. And he thought it was most wretched of him to be enamoured by Ezinwanyi so easily after pledging himself to Ozioma before he met her.

"You love her, do you not?" She asked, incredulity pinning her features in an image of disbelief. Onochie froze. He had not imagined he would be hearing this question from anyone. Most especially not Ozioma. But his mouth finally sealed close when he deduced from the intelligent eyes that steadily gazed back at him that he'd been fooling no one but himself. She'd known all along. And as tears streamed down her pristine face, Onochie knew he'd broken Ozioma's heart.

Unsure of what to do or how to comfort her, Onochie hastily made the promise he had made a thousand times in the past. Except this time, it was a vow. A vow he would not break. "I swear on the long-departed souls of my ancestors that I will marry you, Ozioma. And not one day will you wonder if I do not love you. Because I will love you until you wish me not to. I promise you this, Ozioma. I promise."

༄༄༄

Ugegbe woke up with a start at the creak of the door. She'd slept for far too long and forgotten her rendezvous with Kamalu. She had hoped to leave for their meeting place and return before the king visited her for the night. Unfortunately, she had missed her chance for standing in the doorway was the man who would not depart from her thoughts. Because tall and statuesque as he was, there'd been no chance of Ugegbe escaping the trap of taking notice of him. It'd been a further lost battle once she'd gotten to know him as the good man he was. Then, she'd foolishly fallen without any reservations.

"Ezinwanyi," The king greeted upon seeing her sit straight on the bed. He hung the torch in its bracket without taking his eyes off of her. Ugegbe wrapped an arm around her chest self-consciously. Although she was wearing the newest addition to her one-piece wrappers, she suddenly felt exposed underneath his heated gaze. And heated it was. His eyes were twin flames raking over her from her head to her feet. Not a single inch was spared. Ugegbe felt her skin warm in the trail he left behind. Oh how she hated what he did to her.

Summoning up her senses on account of a self-righteous indignation that rose within her, Ugegbe finally located the words suitable for the moment when a bride was first viewed in the wake of moonlight by her new husband. "Welcome, Your Majesty," she lowered herself to her knees on the floor.

There was a beat where nothing was said. Onochie stared at her without moving a limb. Yet, Ugegbe was intrigued to catch a muscle twitch in his jaw as if he'd ground his teeth. Was he angry? Had she done something wrong? She wondered faintly, hoping neither was the case. The night was tired and ready to rest its tired bones. Ugegbe reasoned that so was she. With the syrupy weather that had taken over, all she wanted was a chance to rest. She refused to be the brunt of any man's anger.

"Do not kneel." Onochie's voice was strangely hoarse. Ugegbe wobbled to her feet, baffled by his behaviour. She could not tell if he was angry or not, and it was discomfiting. The truth was she preferred to be able to read the emotions of whoever was before her. It wasn't easy to do so when it came to the king. Often, she could not tell what he was thinking. Especially when he looked at her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Look at me, Ezinwanyi," he commanded, and her head snapped back of its own accord, instantly obeying him. "Good," he murmured, and a wild thrill arced down her spine. Ugegbe looked away. But he wouldn't permit her escaped. His large hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head upward so their gazes melted in a molten lava. Ugegbe gasped softly as her pulse spiked with an unknown emotion. It was one that she had never identified before. One she dd not know if she was ready to embrace its meaning.

Onochie's thumb stroked the side of her cheek, a soft feathery touch that was as wicked as the very word. Ugegbe could not find the thoughts she'd earlier piled up in her head. It seemed that everything had fluttered away at the smallest attention he'd paid her. "From today onward, do not kneel before any living soul. You are my queen. You will bow to no man. Not even me. I am not worth your veneration."

Ugegbe was shocked to hear his admonishment, but was even more bewildered to note that she disagreed with him. As she'd long realised, Onochie was the only one of his kind for she would not have imagined that there would be a case where the king of a kingdom as vast as Zoro would excuse her from showing him reverence. Most born of royal blood would execute any who dared showed them slightest sign of disrespect. Those, Ugegbe had come to characterise as power-hungry animals.

Onochie was not one of them. With the spool of warmth he'd spun unrolling into soft satiny coils in her stomach, Ugegbe felt bolder than she'd ever been in his presence. She leaned into his touch and closed a comforting fist around his wrist. "I will bow to those who deserve my deference, Your Majesty. And you are one of them. So please,"—she let his palm creep higher up her cheekbone, following the path of her Uli—"Please accept my greetings."

"Ezinwanyi..." his drawl was the most beautiful she had ever heard. And Ugegbe wished, for the first time since she escaped, that a man knew her true name. "Ezinwanyi," he called again in that tortured tone ripped into her without mercy. She caught the flash of something indecipherable in his dark eyes, and pondered what it was she'd seen. But then Onochie spoke again and everything clicked together. "I am sorry."

Ugegbe stepped back promptly. She had to disengage herself from him to become rational once again. "You do not have to be sorry, Your Majesty," she assured even as her heart hardened behind the half-crumbled walls of the fortress she'd rebuilt. "I understand." She could see the struggle corded around his neck like a leash, and had no intent on tightening its hold on the man she'd come to care for against her best senses. She would not wound him further by begging for his affection when she knew it would be impossible for her to receive it. She would not bring him a greater dilemma by doing so.

"Ezinwanyi," the name lingered on his tongue as if it were the sweetest sound to exist, and Ugegbe sighed. Would she ever grow tired of hearing him call her. Would she ever forget her infatuation with him and every single action he made? She hoped so. Otherwise, her life as the king's wife would be suffused with disappointment and misery. For indeed, it would be a most unfulfilling life, living in the shadow of another woman. Worse, of a woman who did not care for the king.

Ugegbe was torn.

"It is late, Your Majesty. I believe our conversation can be saved for when the day breaks."

"I will marry Ozioma."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ugegbe ignored the brand that had seared into her chest. She ignored the raw, agonising pain that made it difficult to hold on to her breath. "You will. It is only right."

Onochie's brows crimped in a most outlandish expression. Ugegbe might have noted the peculiarity of his reaction had she not been lost in the throes of her own suffering. Her heart was a sad, shrivelled-up mess as she returned to the bed. As a form of safeguarding, she turned her back to Onochie as she laid down. She would have to fulfill her matrimonial duties as a wife eventually, but for now, she was content to let him see her stiff shoulders while she nursed her visceral wounds.

The door cried in alarm as Onochie made his way outside. Ugegbe heard urgently whispered words, but could not decipher their meanings as they were too quietly spoken. Footsteps entered the room only to retreat again. Ugegbe fought to not turn on her side. She wanted to see what he was doing, but she would not give herself that pleasure. Not after he'd ensured that she had no false hope of ever being loved by him. No, she would not allow herself to be tempted again.

So instead, she waited. If he wished to speak to her, then he would. She would not have to prompt or force him to do so. Time came and slithered by. Still, there was nothing. Ugegbe wondered what was taking the king so long? Or was it possible that he had gone back to his chambers? She surely hoped not; there would be rumours by the morning.

Yet, the hut remained as silent as the night. And it wasn't till the sounds of soft snores vibrated in the open, that she realised Onochie was still in the room. Ugegbe sat up at once, scrambling to the end of the bed. Lo and behold, there was a sight to never be forgotten. For, there, on a makeshift stack of straws and plumage, was her husband, the King of Zoro, contentedly asleep.