Chapter 6 #2
"Half a year," Azul murmured, filing the information away. Then she set down her bowl on her lap and looked at him directly. "So what was it that made you panic just now?"
Borji stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."
"When I asked about rumours, what was it?"
"I didn't panic."
"Borji."
He was silent.
"I won't be upset," Azul said quietly. "Just tell me."
He let out a long breath and looked away. "People are saying things. About you."
"What kind of things?"
He scrunched his face like a child unwilling to speak.
"Stop that; I need to know what's going on, or I'll keep being thrown around by your very darling Imperial Mothers."
Borji rolled his eyes. "The only one who has that title is the Ugoeze; everyone is just my father's wife.
But I understand your concern. The public seems to think you were bought to please the Igwe as a lesser wife.
Instead, you seduced the Okpalaeze. Ambitious bed climber.
It seems your beauty is being spoken about along the lines of a curse to befall the tribe.
" He finally met her eyes. "A whore playing at being a princess. "
Azul didn't react outwardly, but there was a slight tremor in her hand as her spoon shook against the ceramic bowl, making soft clinking noises.
"I see," she whispered.
The thing was, Azul didn't care personally about the court of public opinion. She had no interest in being liked by people who despised her.
But she wasn't stupid enough to think reputation wasn't a resource.
Her father had told her once: if one wishes to build an army, they need one of three things—great wealth, great reputation, or great power.
She had none of those things.
And now they were poisoning the one she might’ve been able to build relatively easily.
A laugh bubbled up from her chest, dry and mildly amused.
"It seems I must not be lenient," she said.
Something in her smile made Borji shift uncomfortably. "Azul…"
"Tell me about Iyom's maternal family."
The abrupt change in subject threw him, but he answered. "Iyom? She's a commoner. Her father was nobody special until she gave birth to the Okpalaeze. After that, he rose quickly in status and bought quite a bit of land."
"And his wealth?"
"Disproportionate," Borji admitted. "Most assume he's taken bribes. He holds a minor administrative position, nothing that should generate that kind of coin."
Azul hummed, her interest piqued. It always amazed her how people left their weaknesses out in broad daylight to be exploited. Or was Iyom not scared of what a simple village girl could do? "Do you think bribes alone are enough to fund such a lavish lifestyle?"
Borji considered. "I... I'm not sure."
"They're not," Azul said. "Bribes are often paid in favours, not coin. That way the Igwe, or any leader for that matter, can turn a blind eye. He most likely funds himself through trade."
"But he's not a merchant—"
"He probably is," Azul interrupted. "Just one of the more unsavoury sorts. The kind who doesn't advertise his trade."
Borji's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"
"If you want to know what Iyom's father is really involved in, you should ask a few downtrodden brothel girls what they know of him. In exchange for buying their deeds of freedom, of course. They'll tell you everything."
Borji stared at her. Then a slow, incredulous smile spread across his face as he exhaled in disbelief. "You want me to go buy prostitutes their freedom so they'll gossip about a corrupt official?"
"I would do it myself if I could," Azul said with a shrug. "But I can't be seen outside the palace. You, however, can go wherever you please."
"Are you mad?"
"Why? Do you not want to spend the night with beautiful women in your arms?"
He seemed strangely appalled, and she rolled her eyes.
"Are you a monk? You need not sleep with anyone, obviously; just share a gourd of wine and listen to them sing. It is good for the mind."
They argued for a few more minutes, Borji ending up with a longer list of chores with each word he spoke back, so he gave up and accepted he had become her errand boy.
"Fine. I'll do it. But before I go—" He stood and pointed at her sternly. "Have Nkiru buy your food from the city square every morning. It's inefficient, but if it puts you at ease, I'd feel better."
Azul opened her mouth to say she had no money, but—
"I know," Borji said before she could speak. "Don't worry about it."
Somehow, he knew what her heart wished to say.
He paused at the doorway, looking back at her. "Be careful; I don't really want to see my sister's head roll so soon."
Then he was gone.
She stared at where he last stood.
You know I'm not truly your sister, right?
She sighed and, with great effort, pushed herself out of bed. Her legs shook beneath her, muscles still weak from days of punishment and starvation, but she gritted her teeth and stayed upright.
She knelt beside the bed and dragged the jar out from beneath it.
It was heavy but still lighter than she remembered. The cloth covering the top writhed slightly.
Carefully, she stood the jar upright.
Then the hissing stopped, as if the creature still trapped were aware of her presence.
Azul pulled back the cloth just enough to peer inside; the smell was rancid.
In the dim light, she saw it—sleek, white-scaled, and coiled at the bottom of the jar in a small pool of blood and bones. Other snake skulls, some rotting pieces and a few deflated eyeballs could also be seen. Its six eyes gleamed like cuts of emeralds as it watched her.
The other snakes she had stuffed with this one were gone. Only the victor remained.
"Good," Azul whispered. "You'll do nicely."
If she starved it for a few more days, it would be more compliant.
She covered the jar again and pushed it back under the bed. Just as she tried to stand, a voice rang in her head.
Host, can you… hear me?
Azul straightened—too quickly. The room spun, and she had to catch herself against the wooden frame. Just as the voice slithered into her mind, it vanished, leaving her with a strange confusion from her hallucinations.
Right. Still recovering, she reminded herself.