Onochie stirred to a ball of light thumping him in the face. He popped open one eye then the other before sluggishly sitting up straight, noting at a glance that he was—where in the world was he again? As if in a trance, he whipped around to survey his surroundings. He was...oh!...in her chambers.

The King of Zoro had slept in his wife's ceremonial hut last night.

At this realisation, the tension seeped out of his bones, just as it dawned on him that his nerves had not been as strung up as it would have been on a regular day of his life. He collapsed back on his makeshift bed, marvelling at how well he'd slept. There was none of that terrible recurring headache that often jarred him to wake. Rather, he felt refreshed and ready for the day. It begged the question of when last had he had he enjoyed this blessing? Certainly not since he'd done the irreparable: a heinous atrocity that had put the aggrieved stain on his soul.

Shutting his eyes, Onochie fought to dismiss the wretched thoughts. It was near impossible to do so once they wormed into his head, but focusing on Ezinwanyi, on the warmth of her voice and the assurance the solidness of her character brought him, stilled his being with a peace he'd long sought for.

A groan of frustration arose from his inner depths but was quickly dashed away as the truth became even more irrefutable. It would be impossible to carry on this way. How long could he persist in dismissing what he felt for her? He feared he had little time left. And it terrified him because he had Ozioma.

She was still his woman, and he owed her. He couldn't simply cast her aside like an old cloth. She was worth much more than that and deserved to be treated with respect. He could not close his eyes and simply betray her when she had dedicated years of her life to him in sincere devotion. The sinking feeling in Onochie's stomach grew heavier as he convinced himself once again that he had to keep his promise to her. That he had no other choice but to marry Ozioma. As far as he was concerned, it was the right thing to do.

The room swayed as Onochie rose to his feet. He needed to find her. He was lightheaded, and had to hold on to the bed to find his bearings. A light stumble and a silent curse under his breath, and his head was aright on his shoulders. Glancing at the neat bed again, he wondered where his wife was. She must have left the hut quite early, not to mention, very quietly, as he'd not taken note of her absence in his deep slumber.

Combing his fingers through the scruff on his chin, Onochie compiled a list of places she could be. As queen, her first duties would have to be closely supervised by the dowager queen. So there was not much she would be allowed to do on her own. Perhaps she'd already been called by his mother.

Turning his gaze outward, Onochie noted that the sky had yawned wide, stretching its white arms afar, yet held the tender promise of a cooler day, judging by how hurriedly the clouds piled around the sun. While he wasn't the most religious man, he felt the need to offer his thanks to Anyanwu. He murmured praises to the sun god for his blessings. If not for the All Knowing's providence, he would never have met Ezinwanyi. And he did not want to imagine his path never crossing hers. In fact the thought of not meeting the queen caused his heart to ache inconsolably. For he knew such a misfortune would have certainly been a loss equalled in the worth of a kingdom.

"Your Majesty!" The worried trill of a guard caused Onochie to halt in his tracks. His brow scrunched into a wrinkle. What in the sun's name was he doing? In years, he had not strayed to the queen mother's abode without a valid cause or concern. He'd not once broken the protocols that demanded he remained confined to his jurisdiction in a case that did not warrant it. Until now.

Until her.

Standing before the dowager queen's palace, he was as out of place as a lion lost in the thick of the jungles. His voice was thick, rusty with disuse as he rasped. "The queen...where is she?"

"Her Majesty is with the queen mother, my king," Ah, she was indeed with his mother.

"Was any message left for me earlier?"

The guard was baffled into momentary silence but was recovered quickly. "No, Majesty. No message was left for you. Shall I ask that your presence be announced to the queens?"

Onochie's head nearly snapped back as he barked. "No! Do not let any hear of my visit. Return to your post immediately."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Please forgive me." The guard bowed, limbs shaking as he bolted away.

A jesting tone danced into the warmth of the air, sweeping tension's fallen leaves aside. "What have you done to scare your guard away, my lord?"

"I did nothing." Onochie grumbled, marching along, knowing that he would be followed by his shadow. "And where have you been?"

Kamalu chuckled softly, obviously amused by the petulance the king of Zoro was exhibiting. In times like this, Onochie mused that he was very likely the younger brother the man never had. "I have been at the queen's side as you commanded, Your Majesty."

Onochie's ears perked in interest like those of a curious cat. "How fares she?"

"The queen is in good health, my lord. She is a fast learner and already has a remarkable grasp of the duties that are soon to be hers. I also believe that she has found favour with the queen mother. She should have no problem performing in her role...by your side." He finished, though with a slight linger but not so subtle that it went unnoticed by Onochie. Once again, his suspicions were confirmed. Kamalu was in love with Ezinwanyi. The king's right hand man had fallen for his woman.

Onochie had to swallow the bitter taste that coated his mouth like bile from a cow's gall. He knew of how close Ezinwanyi had been to Kamalu from the beginning. She'd gravitated to the chief guard instead. And he knew. He knew they both cared for each other, and nothing terrified him more. For it could be that the care was much more than he'd anticipated and had now transformed into blossoming love between them. The thought was haunting, capable of consuming him, eradicating his being into nonexistence.

He had to know.

"You feel for her, do you not?"

"I beg your pardon, my lord." Horror flashed across Kamalu's face in such fine print as that which would keep a man terrified in place at the sight of a starving wild animal.

"You heard me," the words were spat in an unforgiving growl. "Do you or do you not?"

Kamalu had now gathered his composure; his slack mouth gained back its seal and his eyes were no longer so wide. But Onochie could tell that the shock had burrowed into him. It had dug down and ripped out something that had been so cleverly hidden. How he had kept it buried for so long, he didn't know.

"I do."

There was no greater wretchedness than that Onochie felt at his confession, but he forced his head to bob in a curt nod and offhandedly deliver the comment that could not be any farther from what he felt. "Good."

"Please forgive me, my lord. I should not have... I am a fool to—"

Onochie silenced him with a cutting gesture, but allowed his tone to soften at the pain in his friend's gaze. "I asked for the truth, and you gave it to me as a brother would have done. Fate has been unkind to have the same woman—though remarkable she be—become tied to us so. I have promised to not stand between the queen and her happiness, and that vow remains."

"But my lord—"

It killed Onochie to let Ezinwanyi go, but he knew he was making the right decision. They both loved each other, and this was his blessing to them. For nothing mattered more than her joy even if he would never be the cause of it. Swallowing hard, he shoved aside the whirlwind of emotions threatening his demise. He had to say this today, or he would never gain the courage. "Protect her, Kamalu. This is your utmost duty from today. Onward, you will be her shadow. Not mine."

Kamalu shook his head, as if clearing out the words he'd wished to dispel. "I will serve her with all my might and the strength with which the gods have blessed me with. This is a honour that shall never be taken for granted, Your Majesty."

Again, that tightness was back in Onochie's chest. "I expect nothing less from you, Warrior." Each breath burned like the hot embers from a dying flame. Everything hurt with a hideous fury. He could bear it no longer. "Now leave me be! Go to your place by the queen." He growled the dismissal. Kamalu wore a pained look, but not even the bravest fool would have dared to protest that order. So he bowed to his master and slipped away to do his bidding.

All alone, Onochie accepted the bitter truth. Ezinwanyi would never be his woman to love.

The rings of the earth's form must have crumbled and cried at the king's despair. They sank underneath his feet, a response to his turmoil. Swallowing hard, he forced the pain down. At least, tried to. The vile thing bubbled up, surging to his throat in an urge to upturn whatever content remained of his empty stomach. Anguish, cold and hot all at once wrapped around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. His eyes watered, and a pitiful sound escaped, a protesting cry from a man who had found love yet also lost it.

༄༄༄

Ugegbe trusted him. Kamalu had sworn to keep her secret, especially from the king. Yet, she could not shake off the trepidation wrapping her up in a suffocating cloak. Be calm. Came the admonishment from within. It was almost impossible but she forced her shoulders to loosen, feeding into her countenance an ease she did not feel. For she had to convince her guests of her happiness. No soul was to know of the worries that wrung her dry or of her regrets and fears. Her role as queen left no room for weakness, understanding that fact sooner rather than later would be to her advantage.

The queen mother's courtyard was bustling. Everywhere the eye turned, there was reason to be in good spirits. Though it was closer to sunset now than it had been to her waking at dawn, the people were as lively as if it were just morning. Pretending to not have any ulterior motives, she delicately swept her gaze through the queen mother's palace for the umpteenth time.

"Who do you seek, lolo?" The dowager queen asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Ugegbe dropped her gaze hurriedly. "No one, Your Majesty," she answered, hoping the lie wasn't as apparent spoken aloud as it was heavy on her tongue.

The older woman smoothed down the wrinkles in her white wrapper, a knowing smile playing on her thin lips. "Ah, I would have thought it was my son you were expecting."

She had been caught. Ugegbe felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "I know the king is busy with affairs concerning the kingdom, Your Majesty. I do not expect him to be here."

"Is that so?" She waved her fan, woven of straws and resplendent in its choir of coral beads that echoed her laughter. "Then you should not look so despondent, dear queen. The celebrations are for you. Enjoy!"

Her comments made Ugegbe smile. This was new to her. She had never had a ceremony held in her honour. Any she had been fortunate to attend in Zoro was as a slave. She'd had duties and responsibilities to tend. Simply letting herself be merry had not been an option. So the notion seemed rather foreign. But then again, she supposed that was all the more reason for her to enjoy the event."Thank you, queen mother. I shall do so."

Beside her, Nneka stirred. "Shall I bring you some of the delicacies being served, Your Majesty?"

Ugegbe shook her head. "No. I do not have an appetite." She realised only too late that her comment could be misinterpreted to mean her ill and raise concerns. "Indeed, it has not been long since luncheon." A half-truth really, as she had not eaten the food earlier brought to her in the queen mother's abode either. Kamalu's news had stripped her of hunger and appetite, leaving her bereft of all but her ugly fears.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Nneka nodded, falling back into place behind the queen.

Wondering if any change could come about by effort, Ugegbe studied the tempting foods. Corn, peppered and roasted, were presented on wooden spears. The smells of ukwa and fresh coconuts, yam and ogi, akara and akasa, wafted off of a smattering spread of foods, some of which she did not recognise upon sighting. It truly was a delight, judging from the radiant faces feasting on several items at a time.

As mouthwatering as the spread was, however, Ugegbe's stomach heaved at the thought of a taste. She redirected her gaze to a group of flying acrobats at the repeated upsetting motion, trying to vanquish the nausea slowly building up by analysing their mesmerising movements. A particular spin and backward tumble had her clapping in awe. She noted  in comparison that Osisi's performers had not been so skilled.

"Akarangwas," the queen mother murmured. "It has been a while since they have put on such a performance." She grinned when Ugegbe caught her eye. "It appears they approve of their new queen."

Warmth bloomed in Ugegbe's core, coaxing one of her rarer smiles. "I am most honoured."

"You should be," she added sagely, a hint of pride in the set of her brow. "Their heritage can be traced generations back. Their skills have been passed down from mother to daughter and father to son. It is no small feat to entertain royalty. But that they do magnificently."

Ugegbe noted the dowager queen's high regard for the group. "You think highly of them, Your Majesty."

The quiet rhythm of the fan ceased. "Indeed," she took a sip from her cup of palm wine. "Though one may say I am biased, being their leader at a time."

There was an extraordinary moment of silence where Ugegbe thought her eyes would fall out from bulging of their sockets in shock. "Y-you were once a part of them, Your Majesty? Dancing?" She squeaked in amazement.

A tinkling laugh echoed in the palace as the dowager queen was properly amused by her daughter-in-law's reaction. "One would think I just confessed a murder to you, my queen,"

"I—" Ugegbe was at a loss for words. Perhaps her reaction was a little over the top, but with each new layer the queen mother peeled back, she couldn't help but be stunned. Back in Osisi, it was unheard of for the king to wed a woman who was not of noble descent. The marriage was usually a strategic move from the ruling family to strengthen their numbers, and nearly always started out as a match between the crown prince and a daughter of the head chief, who, by default, was the wealthiest and most prominent of the council. "I apologise, Your Majesty. I simply am stunned."

"And I am only teasing you, my dear." She reached out to pat Ugegbe's hand, grinning as a mischievous child would. The sight was a welcome one, flashing memories of Okoh and his younger ones through her mind. Her wandering thoughts stuttered only at the change in the queen mother's tone.  "Their support is directly from dues paid by their communities as well as the king's gifts. Unfortunately, when our people suffer, they do too." Her fan fluttered slowly, appraising the audience drawn to the scintillating beat and kaleidoscope of colourful clothing.

Ugegbe made to pass a comment when a runner cut into the palace, panting from exertion. Spectators darted out of his way as if he were ill of a contagious disease, murmurs and low mumbling left in their wake. "The king is on his way, Your Majesties!"

The queen mother stared down at the servant, her brow pulled into a mild frown. "His Majesty is expected at this gathering. Now tell me, why you have made a scene, running as if mmuọnwu sought to teach you a lesson after you crossed its path."

"My apologies, Your Majesty." The runner bowed low in reverence. "I did not mean to bring trouble by disrupting the queen's celebration."

"You could not have done that even if you tried," the dowager queen scoffed, and Ugegbe was reminded of the haughtiness that even the kindest of royalty wore about as second skin. She wondered if she would ever take on that character, then shuddered and hoped fervently that she would not.

The teenage boy looked drawn aback. "O-of course not, Your Majesty. Forgive my assumptions. I only came to relay the message that the king has been in a foul mood all morning. He has stripped the head chief of his title and appears determined to punish the rest of the council. It may be to the court's advantage to tread carefully before him..."

Ugegbe felt her skin prickle at the thought. Come to think of it, she had not met Onochie in a foul mood. At least, not yet. He was often in cheered spirits, albeit sometimes solemn in his exchange with her. Still, never angered. Stripping a chief of his title seemed to speak of unfettered rage. It was rare for rulers to go thus far in punishing high ranking officials. The thought of being on the receiving end of his ire flooded her with unease.

"...the king may—"

"I suggest you think very long and hard on your next words, son," the queen mother cut the runner off with a sneer. "You may lose more than your job if they are found wanting." She finished, and Ugegbe grimaced at the fear pulling on the servant's features, shutting previous willing lips. He had given more than was needed of him. Serving in the royal courts required diplomacy. One had to know when to offer suggestions or opinions and when to present only details and facts, leaving the decision to the master. When in doubt, the latter was recommended.

Head bowed to the floor, a plea was made. "Please have mercy, Your Majesty. I forgot my place as a mere servant. Please show me your kindness."

Ugegbe itched to comfort the runner. He was only a child. Judging by his demeanour, he was no more than a few years older than Okoh, who, in her eyes, was a little brother. It could be taken as an affront on the former queen's authority if she dismissed the runner, but that was a risk she was willing to take as she found it impossible to sit still, pretending to be unconcerned while this continued.

"I believe—" she began, but was cut off by the cry of the gong. The king was here.

With a flick of her wrist, the queen mother sent the runner away, much to his and Ugegbe's relief. A small troop, consisting mainly of the royal guards and a few servants flanked the king as he made an entrance, only Zoro's monarch could muster up. Ugegbe felt her mouth dry up as his gaze searched the crowd and fell directly on hers, taking captive of all her thoughts, blotting them out of existence.

He was angry, that she could tell. The set of his lips, bracketed by drawn grooves, was turned down in a frown. Yet, she watched his eyes soften as they bobbed from her to his mother. He truly loved the former queen, anyone could tell, and it gladdened Ugegbe to note his fondness for the one who brought him to this world.

From what she had gleaned from observing those around her, how a man treated his mother often was reflective of his view of women. Those who lacked respect or displayed rudeness were less likely to be fair to the opposite gender. Onochie was clearly not one of those.

Ugegbe was strangely short of breath as the king halted before them. Resplendent in the tigerskin drawn to his knees and draped over his chest, he commanded attention from all. One could not help but be in awe at the beautiful specimen before them. In spite of the covering on his upper half, the expanse of his torso was visible, a gleaming expanse of rich skin. His shoulders were broad and sculpted, tense with unbridled strength. Her gaze dropped to hands, fisted at his sides. They unfurled under her scrutiny even as one extended to her.

"My queen,"