Chapter 9 #2
Azul tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, taking a slow breath. Then she met her father's gaze once more, her golden eyes cold as frost. "So what do you want from me? Those are just rumours. I am still untouched."
"Fine. Be stubborn in your chastity, but without proper backing from the royal family, you will struggle should the week pass."
"What will happen?" The way he spoke made her doubt. Could it be that they had already discussed this? But the original Azul's memories held no such conversation. What was she missing?
He paused, searching her face. "Did they not tell you? The reason you were sold?"
No.
No one had told her.
In fact, she'd only agreed to this meeting on the slim chance she would find out about it.
"You are to marry a warlord of the Grass Sea. The Great Khan of the Valthorne tribe."
It was as though something had shattered a jar of clay in the room. Azul could not process anything and instead stared at them, her mind a sudden blank void.
"A warlord?"
"Yes." Chukwuemeka leaned forward, his expression hardening.
"So it's important you at least pander to the Okpalaeze.
Don't waste any more time. I only made this trip because I heard the Valthorne men were seen at the border.
It won't be more than a week before they arrive, and you might be in a dangerous predicament. "
Something cold settled in her chest.
Her breathing slowed. Her hands, which had been trembling with rage moments before, were pressed into her lap to stop the shaking. Only a fool would sell their daughter to a warlord; it seemed her father was that fool.
"I see," she said softly.
A warlord.
Somadina's words rang in her ears.
You have one chance to save yourself a sorry fate if you know what's good for you.
Warlords who enslaved without care. Who killed and conquered and left nothing but ash in their wake. Warlords who had no allies, only enemies. Warlords whose wives rarely survived more than a few years before dying from violence, disease, or despair. Who wedded slaves, not free women.
She was a slave, wasn't she? An expensive slave, but a slave nonetheless.
They were sending her to die.
And expecting her to be grateful they'd warned her.
Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"What is so dangerous about my predicament? It is just a marriage, is it not?"
He frowned. "I raised you to be smarter than this; have you not picked apart my words yet? Understand what I truly want you to do."
She glanced down at his armour; it was standardised, but the sash around his waist had a brooch at the centre. "You joined the Imperial Guards," she noted.
He nodded, eyes narrowing with expectation.
Azul’s heart stuttered. "You obtained a high position."
"Under whom?" he pushed her.
Who else? The man he so badly wanted her to sleep with. She spat out the answer with a voice so rough it was as though her throat had been scraped with sand. "The Okpalaeze."
Her father gave a sound of approval. "Next time, observe before you speak. I will not remind you—"
"Why?" she interrupted. "Why did you do this?"
"That is not your place to know." Chukwuemeka's jaw tightened. "What is most important is that you understand: you need the Okpalaeze’s protection for what you are about to do, or your life will be in danger."
Her body shook.
"Listen and listen carefully," he continued, schooling her as he had done many times before. "Once he arrives, you will have to act on his heart."
Act on his heart?
"It is imperative he grows to trust you and to love you. Whether or not you sell your body in exchange for his devotion is within your prerogative. His guard must be relaxed, his belly must be full of wine, and you must be ready for an upcoming storm."
Only then did she understand.
This was a ploy to kill her betrothed.
And she was going to be a scapegoat.
Azul stared at her father with a blank expression. It was absurd. Is that why he wished for her to get in Somadina’s bed? So when she was left with no husband and accused of indecency, he would take her as a sex slave? A whore? His concubine?
"Is that why the Ugoeze suggested this marriage?" Her voice sounded so small; it aggravated her how much she had lost the will to speak.
Chukwuemeka shook his head. "The Igwe wanted Princess Obiageli married to the warlord, but she's too ill. He needed a substitute. A girl of appropriate age and beauty. It was good for us; sending you aligns with the prince’s plans. When the Igwe offered two hundred silver for you—"
"Two hundred silver." The laugh that bubbled up from her throat was dry and mirthless.
"You wish to ruin my life for two hundred pieces of silver!?" If the warlord dies after she has seduced him, who would take her as a woman of good standing? He wished for her to use any means necessary? To debase herself for a foreigner? Wouldn’t her name be spat on by the common people? Wouldn’t they point fingers at her?
Did he really not care how she would live after all this?
Was Somadina—the man who killed her—his only solution?
Death or death.
Chukwuemeka's face darkened. "Watch your tongue, girl. Great power is at my fingertips; you will be settled if you just married—"
"Great power?" Azul interrupted, her voice still eerily calm. "Being the dog of such a prince is what you consider great power?"
The only reason he was so insistent on her sleeping with Somadina was the reason he was wearing armour dictating a high position within the royal guard.
Her eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made him flinch. "If that is your definition of power, then Somadina will use you and you will be left without even a corpse to bury."
Rage flickered across his features. And in that moment she knew he would try to hit her, but before he did, she needed to find out why his other daughter was here.
"You ungrateful—"
"Where is Kamsi? Why is Chidinma here?"
His mouth snapped shut, the question arresting him. Beside him, Chidinma shifted slightly, and Azul caught it—the tiniest flicker of smugness crossing her sister's face.
"She wanted to see you," Chukwuemeka said, but the lie was transparent even before he finished speaking.
"Try again." Azul found no joy in their gathering at all.
The smugness on Chidinma's face grew more pronounced. The girl couldn't quite hide it—that self-satisfied expression of someone who'd got something she desperately wanted.
Chidinma glanced over her shoulder.
Azul followed her gaze.
The door on the opposite side of the room opened.
So you were here all along.
Somadina entered, still wearing bandages around his head, though the injury should've long since healed. He was dressed formally, his robes the deep crimson of his station, matching hers. "Ah, Chukwuemeka." Somadina's smile was warm. "I'm glad I caught you before you left."
Chukwuemeka stood immediately, bowing low as if the prince had arrived by coincidence.
"Okpalaeze. It is an honour."
Azul remained seated, her hands still folded in her lap, her mind racing, picking up the pieces of information thrown around her.
She understood now, the kind of fuckery everyone was involved in.
Somadina's eyes slid to her, and something vicious glinted in them. "I trust you've had a pleasant reunion with your family, Akwaugo? I hope your father explained your situation."
"He did." Her curt reply followed.
"Good." Somadina stood behind Chidinma. His hand came to rest on the girl's shoulder. "Then you understand time is of the essence. The Valthorne delegation will be here within the week to collect his bride."
Azul kept her eyes locked on her sister's as they sat on opposing sides.
Somadina continued. "Should you marry that brute, your fate will be death in foreign lands.
And as your father has instructed, there is a way out.
Seduce him; make him malleable enough that I can use him.
Then I guarantee he will die, and you will be free of this marriage alliance.
But you must know, your insubordination cannot go unpunished. "
Azul’s hands clenched into fists; her insubordination was her self-defence.
"If you were to beg me—properly, on your knees—I will take you as my consort once the warlord is dead. You can assist your sister in taking care of my household."
Chidinma's smug expression bloomed into a beautiful smile, beautiful enough to captivate the hearts of men.
Chukwuemeka said nothing, his jaw tight.
"No." Azul didn’t bother softening her speech or declining indirectly, nor did she want them to think she would play along with their game.
Her father’s expression darkened and she found her heart hammering against her ribs.
"You dare?" he asked.
She felt her body tremble and her back coated in cold sweat as if in preparation for what was to come. If her memories were correct, she would not leave this room unscathed.
Even then, to bend a knee to Somadina was something she could never allow herself to do.
"I dare many things, Chukwuemeka."
As soon as the words left her mouth, a backhanded slap hit her cheek. Pain shot through her jaw. Her back slammed against her chair, and a hand grabbed her face, forcing her to stand.
"It’s been merely a few days and you’ve already forgotten your training."
Chukwuemeka’s voice was laden with such vitriol that each word shook as he spoke. He tossed her to the floor, forcing her down before her sister and her fiancé.
"Your delusions of grandeur must end now. Pay respect to your elders. Kowtow and understand your place."
Azul savoured the taste of iron in her mouth; something warm dropped from the corner of her lips. Lifting her left hand, she wiped, red staining her fingers.
The room entered a state of stasis, anger wrapping around Azul’s throat as if to choke her.
Her vision tunnelled.
Every instinct screamed at her to grab the nearest pointed object and drive it through Somadina's throat.
Then her father's.
Then her sister's.
Paint the walls with their blood.
Make them understand who exactly they were using in their sick game of power.