Chapter 3 #2
"Or, you could let me help you." Borji handed back the brush.
Her brows furrowed. "Why would you help me?"
The prince shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I have nothing better to do. Besides, if you anger Grandmother, Iyom might use the opportunity to be rid of you for good. I personally wish to invest in you killing Somadina."
"Who said I'm going to kill him?" She felt like a cornered mouse.
"You won't? So why all that nonsense last night? I almost took you seriously."
Azul was speechless, unsure of what to say next. "I mean, I do wish to kill him. But should you be supporting me so shamelessly? Aren't you his brother?"
His smile remained, but the light in his eyes dimmed. "There is no such thing as familial bonds in the royal family."
They both fell silent. Azul wasn't stupid enough to assume his life was easy simply because he was the son of the Igwe. The very fact he had no mother to protect him meant he must have had to struggle in the harem alone.
Her eyes, for a moment, moved from his face down his exposed back, and there in the sunlight was the faint sheen of a scar that ran down his back from his neck.
"If you want to survive this place..." his voice took her away from the new discovery. He straightened, lifting the brush from the parchment and dipping it in ink. "Be slow to anger, slow to speak, and quick to understand. Or you will be carried away by them, and you will eventually drown."
Their eyes met, and she could feel a strange sense of kinship with him.
"You can copy my handwriting, right?"
Azul looked at the parchment. His handwriting was spotless, not a flaw to be seen.
"Easily."
Eventually, Azul found herself alone, word after word transcribed on page after page. She used Borji's writing as a reference, and her speed was like a snail's, but she had no choice. Soon enough the sun dropped until the entire shrine was too dark for her eyes to see anything.
Footsteps came behind her, and though she did not stop, she called out to ask who it was.
"It is Nkiru, Akwaugo."
Her title was grating to her ears. Straightening her back and rolling her shoulders, Azul turned to see the feisty girl from earlier standing quite timidly by the stairs leading up to the shrine.
"What's wrong?"
"Akwaugo, there has been no delivery from the kitchen today. The servants have sent me to enquire about what we should do."
"Is that all?" Azul turned back to her work. "Go and ask the kitchen."
She expected the girl to scurry off, but when she had heard no footsteps, Azul stopped once more. "What is it?" she asked.
"We asked two hours ago, Akwaugo."
Azul stilled, her mind coming to a chilling realisation, a smile stretching on her lips as her gold eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.
Nkiru waited for a few more moments, but seeing as Azul had nothing to say, she retreated.
They want to starve me? Do they think it is that easy?
Azul scoffed. She had already died once. Hunger was not enough to make her go and beg for mercy.
Two days passed in silence. Azul spent her mornings, afternoons, and evenings writing.
And despite it being the third day, she still had just under half of the column to transcribe.
Her hips and shoulders hurt, and her wrists were stiff.
But still she pushed herself, unwilling to be found at fault.
The princesses had their mothers and their maternal families.
Azul had no father, no mother—it was just her in the harem.
Any punishment she must complete to perfection.
Any task given, she must not make one mistake.
On the fourth day, her hand only stopped at the sight of blood on her parchment. Quickly, she stepped back, hoping not to ruin any more of her work.
"Ifeoma!" she called to the oldest maid, pinching her nose and rushing out of the shrine. She followed the steps down the path to her small living quarters. "Chiamaka!" She called another, but she was met with silence.
Where is everyone? she thought to herself. Though she had not seen them in two days, she assumed they kept themselves busy.
"Akwaugo?" The only one who responded was the smallest. Nkiru, her bantu knots already loosening at the scalp.
"Where is everyone?" Azul couldn't help but ask.
The girl grimaced, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.
"Speak quickly," Azul urged.
"Your Highness, I don't know."
Azul frowned, confused. "What do you mean you don't know?"
The girl struggled to reply, and just then, a strange noise came from her stomach. She winced, biting her lip as if afraid she would suddenly be punished.
I see.
Her servants had abandoned her.
I was mistaken. I can stand to ignore my body's demands, but I expected too much of others.
Taking a breath, she asked the girl, "Are you hungry?"
Harsh knocking against a parchment-covered window was not enough to disturb a man in deep sleep. Luckily, Borji couldn't sleep that night. Nightmares plagued his mind and refused to release him.
"Go away," he said, loud enough for her to hear.
Naturally, he knew who it was.
Who else would bother to find him if not a stranger?
The knocking continued.