Chapter 12
The morning sun glistened off the water, turning the lake’s surface into a diaphanous sheet of sapphire. The royal barge—a massive vessel with a figurehead shaped like a rearing serpent—rocked gently against the dock where the wives had gathered.
Laughter drifted across the water, mingling with the splash of oars and the distant calls of servant girls as they hurried to serve the women of the harem.
The Ugoeze held court at the centre, shaded by a canopy of large, circular leaves.
Her ladies were arranged around the boat like colourful petals, serving wine and making sure plates were constantly full.
The Iyom sat at her right hand, as protocol demanded.
"We must be blessed by Anyanwu; it is such a lovely day today," the Fifth Wife sighed, fanning herself with her dyed raffia fan. "The lake is so calm."
"The lake is always calm when the Igwe isn't sailing," the Sixth Wife replied. "He attracts storms, that one."
Laughter rippled through the group. The barge had been prepared for the women's private celebration—a day of food, music, and dance to welcome the newest member of their ranks. The Okpalaeze's new wife would join them shortly, formally entering the harem.
"Has anyone seen the Third Wife?" the Ugoeze asked.
"Still preparing her gift for the bride," the Fifth Wife offered. "She's been quite secretive about it."
The Iyom's lips curved slightly. "How thoughtful of her."
The conversation drifted—gossip from outside the walls, complaints about servants, speculation about the harvest festival. Time passed pleasantly, with wine flowing freely.
Eventually, a servant approached the Ugoeze with her head bowed low.
"Ugoeze, the Akwaugo has arrived and awaits permission to board."
The Ugoeze's eyebrows rose. The girls fanning her seemed to smirk. She exchanged a glance with the Iyom.
"The Akwaugo?" the Ugoeze repeated. "Her punctuality leaves much to be desired."
The Iyom hid her smile behind her cup. "Shall we send for her, Ugoeze?"
"Hmm." The Ugoeze considered. "Let her wait. We're in the middle of a conversation."
The servant bowed and retreated.
On the dock, Azul stood in the morning sun, dressed in deep indigo. Behind her, Nkiru shifted nervously, clutching a small wrapped gift.
"Akwaugo," Nkiru whispered, "they saw us."
"I know." Azul remained calm. "We will be waiting a bit." They were late. Azul pursed her lips at the thought. She had rushed out after treating the Great Khan in her room, and still she was late. In truth, she would've never been punctual, for she was given the wrong time.
The sun climbed higher, and she controlled her breathing, sweat dripping down her neck, making her uncomfortable.
Twenty minutes passed, then thirty, then sixty.
Azul had no shade, and the breeze had been blocked by the large boat. Her dress was beginning to cling to her skin, and yet she couldn’t move from her position.
Finally, a servant approached, looking down from above the boat, unwilling to come down to inform her. "The Ugoeze will see you now, Akwaugo."
Azul smiled, struggling to see past the blinding sun. "Thank you, Ma."
She climbed aboard, Nkiru following. The moment her feet touched the deck, conversation stopped. Twenty pairs of eyes turned to her.
Azul met each gaze in turn, expression pleasant.
"Akwaugo." The Ugoeze's voice was warm. "How lovely of you to join us. I hope you didn't wait long—we were so engrossed in conversation, I'm afraid we lost track of time."
"No longer than expected, Ugoeze." Azul bowed appropriately. "Thank you for including me." The back of her throat felt dry, and her vision swam slightly.
"Of course. Please, take your seat. We're about to begin."
Azul's designated place was at the far end of the barge—wedged between low-level concubines who barely acknowledged her.
She sat without comment, arranging her robes, and nodded for Nkiru to return to shore.
The barge pushed off, gliding onto the lake.
Musicians struck up a melody, and dancers flooded into the centre of their little group to perform.
Azul watched, gulping to quench her thirst. The dancers were graceful, wrappers tied around their busts and hips, bells around their ankles, their hair shaved down as beads encircled their heads.
They danced energetically, skin glistening with sweat.
Azul’s eyes wandered to the wine cup before her, then to the one of the concubines next to her.
A message had arrived early that morning; a servant of the Third Wife had left her a warning.
Do not drink from your cup.
Taking one glance around, Azul swiftly swapped her cup with the other woman’s after it had been refilled. Even then, she dared not drink.
Then the guest of honour soon arrived.
A smaller boat pulled alongside, and Chidinma was helped aboard. Deep green brocade, gold jewellery, face painted in the full style of a married woman. She seemed to glow, gleeful with a coquettish look on her face. A bride on her first day in the harem.
The wives rose to greet her. Chidinma accepted their embraces with humility, her eyes finding Azul.
Their gazes locked.
Azul smiled the best she could; her lack of sleep, her thirst, and her exhaustion felt like dead weight pressing down on her. Chidinma's smile didn't waver, but triumph flickered in her eyes.
"Please, sit." The Ugoeze guided Chidinma to a place of honour. "Today we welcome our newest sister. Let us celebrate properly."
Azul nursed her cup without drinking; her energy for chatter was non-existent.
"Akwaugo!" a junior wife called across the barge. "You're not drinking! Come, join us!"
"I'm fine, thank you." She waved it off. She only wished to stay an appropriate amount of time before excusing herself.
"Nonsense!" the woman beside her goaded. "It's a celebration! Drink with us!"
Azul couldn’t be sure she would survive another six hours of kneeling, so she raised her cup. "If you insist. To the happy couple!"
The concubine raised her drink.
Azul did too, enjoying the sickly sweet smell of grapes. And she drank. The wine was to her taste; it was sweet. They refilled her cup. And again. And again.
She paced herself carefully. Let them think she was drinking more than she was. There was no need to fight on a day like today.
The afternoon wore on and eventually the dancers finished. The sun began its descent.
Chidinma rose, cup in hand, and made her way to where Azul sat.
"Sister." Her voice was chirpy. "I'm so glad you came today. It means so much to have family here."
Smiling, Azul replied. "Of course I came; how could I miss such a momentous occasion? Though I must say, I almost didn't recognise you beneath all that makeup. I was concerned you were concealing a sickly appearance, but I'm happy to see you're well."
Was she calling Chidinma's makeup inappropriate? Or was she calling her appearance sickly?
Chidinma's smile flickered. "I wanted to look my best for my husband. Once you are wed, you will also understand."
To the Borjigin, it was considered a great shame for the younger sister to wed first; how undesirable must the Ada be for such a thing to happen?
"I see; it's a shame I don't understand now. I believe once my wedding to the Great Khan is celebrated, I will have more insight."
You did not even have a wedding; who are you to gloat? Azul kept her lips stretched despite her sister's increasing struggle to maintain her smile.
"Azul," the Ugoeze said, her voice carrying that false concern she liked to throw around as if anyone would actually fall for it. "How unkind. Today is a day of celebration. Surely you can set aside your bitterness for your sister's sake?"
Bitterness?
Just a friendly conversation between sisters, but from her lips, it was bitterness.
"Of course." Azul bowed her head, the picture of acquiescence. "Forgive my... bitterness."
The Ugoeze cleared her throat. "Since the Akwaugo has honoured us with her presence, perhaps she'd like to offer her congratulations more formally?"
Azul nodded once before rising to bow. "Ugoeze, what is your wish?"
"I hear the Akwaugo was famed in the twelve villages for her uncanny ability to interpret the old dance of Ekesi."
Azul froze as the Ugoeze raised her eagle fan to cover her smirk, her eyes narrowing.
"Dance for us."
Perform for us, slave bought with mere silver.
Words left unsaid.
Azul heard snickering and her hands clenched at her sides.
The snake’s dance was a children's dance; it was abandoned once one reached womanhood, for it involved very few clothes and a masquerade head.
It was for children to dance in the streams, not for any woman of reputable title to dance before others unless it was behind the private chambers of the lord of their household.
If the Valthorne Khan found out about this, wouldn't he find her cheap?
Azul found herself standing in the midst of hyenas eying her flesh, waiting to feast.
She could not dance.
Of course, if I say no now, who knows what punishment they’ll give me? And I still have my patient waiting for me.
"That's..." the Fifth Wife started, then stopped.
"We're all women here." Chidinma's smile was innocent. "Surely there's no harm, Sister?"
Azul's grip tightened on her cup.
"The Okpalaeze has arrived!" a voice announced.
The women on the left side of the boat peeked down to see Somadina arriving on a small boat and boarding the vessel.
The moment he stepped on deck, everyone stood to pay their respects, barring the Ugoeze and his mother.
"Okpalaeze, what a pleasure it is to have you in our midst," the Ugoeze welcomed him, asking her servants to prepare cushions beside where Chidinma was originally seated. Chidinma wasted no time; she rushed to her husband, eyes sparkling with delight.
"My Lord—!" she began but was cut off by Somadina.
"What is this I hear? My wife asks her sister to dance? On her first day in the harem?"
Chidinma's smile became rigid.
"My Lord…"