Chapter 1 #2
Azul tried not to lash out; in a world like this, a woman’s reputation was precious, dictating her future, her past, and her death.
A ruined reputation could lead a mob to your doorstep and could have you dragged into the streets and stoned for upsetting the gods.
In contrast, a good reputation meant you lived respected by those who saw you as less than.
But to some, that respect would feel worse than death.
"Because he summoned me," Azul repeated with a hardened tone. "Or do you suggest I should have defied a direct order from a prince?"
"Bold girl! You don't even have any shame! If you were truly wronged, why are you standing akimbo?"
Azul found herself speechless. Did not falling to pieces count as proof of malicious seduction?
The Ugoeze raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
"The Akwaugo claims she was defending her virtue," the Ugoeze laid out. "The Iyom claims her son was wronged. Without a witness, this becomes a matter of one word against another."
The Iyom's red lips curled into a smile, catching Azul's eye.
"Then let us settle this matter with certainty, Ugoeze.
If the girl claims she defended her virtue, let us confirm that her virtue even remains intact.
For all we know, she might be reenacting a play of the malimbe raising the cuckoo.
Summon the midwives. Let them examine her! "
A wave of whispers broke out in the room, and Azul felt her anger rise.
The cuckoo was the famous bird that made others raise its young. From an accusation of attempted murder to insinuating she might already be pregnant. Trying anything and everything, either way, the moment the Ugoeze believes her words enough, it gives the rumours possibility.
In other words, it was a trap. Even if the examination confirmed her claims, the act itself would strip her of dignity as a trustworthy woman. And the wives knew it.
Azul was not one to care for her reputation, but a good, happy life in such a world relied on how others saw her. It didn't help that Azul was not someone satisfied with mere comfort; if she were to live here, she planned to live grandiosely.
The girl's mind raced. She could refuse, but that would be seen as an admission of guilt. She could submit, but the damage would be done regardless. She opened her mouth, unsure of what she would say when someone spoke up for her.
"That won't be necessary."
A man stood in the doorway, his frame broad and imposing despite the casual way he leaned against the carved wood.
His hair was braided in the same style as the night before, though the feathers woven into it looked slightly bedraggled.
The tangele around his eyes had been reapplied, but carelessly, smudged at the edges.
He wore no shirt, only a loose wrapper tied at his waist, and his feet were bare like hers.
The stranger from the night before.
"Borji," the Ugoeze called, maintaining a neutral tone. "This is a matter for the women of the household. You have no place here."
Borji—so that's his name. Azul felt like a light had been lit in her mind.
The man pushed off the doorframe and strode into the room. Several of the wives shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between him and the Ugoeze.
"I have every right to be here," Borji said, his voice drawling, almost bored. "Seeing as I was there."
The room went silent.
The Iyom's face drained of colour. "You... you were where?"
"In Somadina's chambers," Borji remarked, examining his nails as though the conversation was tedious. "I heard the commotion. Thought the fool had finally got himself killed by one of his conquests. Imagine my surprise when I found him strangling the Akwaugo instead."
"So you have grown to bite the hand that feeds!" the Iyom hissed, rising to her feet. "You dare lie before the Ugoeze?"
"Careful, Iyom," Borji said, his tone sharpening. "You're calling a prince a liar. That's treasonous, isn't it?"
The Iyom's mouth shut, her fury palpable but impotent. The other wives exchanged uneasy glances.
Borji might be the abandoned prince, the son with no mother to champion him and unfavoured by the Igwe—but he was still a prince. And he was older than Somadina.
To respect one's superiors was not a virtue anyone was willing to be seen as lacking.
The Ugoeze's serene mask finally cracked, just slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"If what you say is true, Borji, then the Akwaugo acted in self-defence."
"She did," Borji affirmed.
The Iyom let out a wail of protest, but the Ugoeze silenced her with a look.
"However," the Ugoeze continued, her gaze shifting back to Azul, "the fact remains that a prince was injured. The Akwaugo may have been defending herself, but her actions cannot go entirely unpunished. To do so would set a dangerous precedent."
A dangerous precedent of defiance. Azul's hands clenched at her sides. Of course. Even with a witness, even with the truth laid bare, they still found a way to blame her.
"The Akwaugo will copy the entirety of Mama's favourite scripture," the Ugoeze declared. "She will present it to the Dowager herself, with an apology for the disturbance she has caused within this household."
A ripple of satisfaction passed through the wives. At first Azul wasn't sure why they seemed so comfortable with such mild punishment, but when realisation occurred to her, her jaw tightened.
They thought she couldn't write.
Chukwuemeka was a man who always thought two steps ahead, and so he had spent sleepless nights working the farms of richer men just to make sure his children were literate.
Azul felt a laugh brewing in her belly at the absurdity of her situation. The father who sold her for 200 pieces of silver truly cared about raising her to be as expensive as possible.
"She will do so within seven days," the Ugoeze added.
Borji's eyes narrowed. "Ugoeze—"
"Do you have an objection, Prince Borji?" the Ugoeze asked, her tone as sweet as honey.
Borji glared but couldn't overstep.
Azul stepped forward, chin held high. "I accept your judgement, Ugoeze. Thank you for your benevolence."
The words tasted like coal, but she forced them out with a smile that did not reach her eyes. The Ugoeze inclined her head graciously, and the wives began to disperse, their whispers already weaving new gossip.
Azul turned and walked out of the chamber, her back straight, her servants hurrying to follow. She did not look back.
As Azul walked, the corridor became cooler, and the oppressive weight of the Ugoeze's chambers lifted slightly. Her mind throbbed; first, she needed to figure out which scripture she was supposed to transcribe.
"Azul."
She stopped. Borji had followed her, his footsteps heavy on the stone floor.
"Why did you accept that?" he demanded. "You didn't have to; you were not in the wrong."
"Did you expect me to fight back and make an enemy out of the Ugoeze?
" Azul turned to face him, her eyes blazing.
"I am at their mercy: no allies, no coin, no freedom.
If they wish to drown me in one of the garden wells tonight, I will die.
It is best to be on someone's side until I can leave this place. "
He seemed taken aback by her reply, unable to fully grasp her words. His cluelessness annoyed her more. Even if he were an unwanted prince, he lived a carefree life, unbothered by the idea of death.
"It's not right," he insisted, stepping closer. "You defended yourself. You shouldn't be punished regardless."
"Why are you even helping me?" Azul snapped. "You and your entire family should just leave me alone."
Because of his father, she was stuck in this place; because of his brother, she would have to spend hours writing out meaningless words on parchment. There were only so many of them she could stand at one time.
"I am not grateful. And I do not need a stranger taking advantage of my pathetic situation to stroke his own ego and play hero when it suits him."
She turned on her heel and stalked off, her servants scrambling to keep pace. Behind her, Borji stood frozen, his expression unreadable.