Chapter 14
The council chamber filled quickly with nervous men, most old, some younger.
They had gathered quickly—too quickly, Borji thought—which meant the news had been moving through the palace before the gong even sounded.
He'd been coming in from the eastern gate following an undisclosed meeting when the first strike rang out, still brushing road dust from his sleeve, and he'd had perhaps thirty seconds to arrange his expression before walking through the doors.
He took his place across from Somadina, the only other prince old enough to attend court.
Somadina’s eyes moved to Borji as he sat, taking note of the dust on his collar and the slightly hurried quality of his arrival.
Where were you? the look said.
Borji met it pleasantly with a stifled smile. He wished to say out loud, Planning to kill you.
The Igwe entered without fanfare, which meant it was serious. When he wanted to impress, he made them wait. When he sat down without theatre, it meant the theatre was elsewhere.
"The Valthorne delegation arrived at the southern border this afternoon," the Igwe said without preamble.
The room absorbed this.
"They are three days ahead of the agreed schedule," the Elder of Commerce said carefully.
"The banquet preparations are not complete. The guest quarters in the eastern wing are still being refurnished. The tribute gifts have not been fully received!" another pushed.
The Elder of Justice who spoke next, the Ugoeze's brother, was a thorough man and had learned to sound calm even when he wasn't. He stood straight, with hair cut short like other respectable men, with a gold band on bulging biceps as a black wrapper gave him some modesty.
"Has the Great Khan given any reason for the early arrival? "
"None that has been communicated." The Igwe's jaw was tight. "Whether it is a test of our readiness or simply the impatience of a man who does not observe diplomatic schedules, we do not yet know."
Silence followed; they were all sure that everyone was thinking the same thing and waiting for someone else to say it.
Borji watched Somadina's hand on the table; his fingers tapped incessantly.
The Valthorne party arriving early could be an announcement of bad news, notably, a sign they wished not for an alliance but for an eventual war.
"We shall hold the banquet in two days," the Igwe said. "Whatever is not ready will not be mentioned. The Akwaugo will be formally presented." He looked around the table. "There are no objections."
It wasn’t a question.
"No objections," the room agreed.
"I didn’t take you for the type to read books on the stars," Nnenna said, eyeing the book on the side table.
Azul tapped her gold-painted nail against the porcelain cup, the rhythmic sound punctuating the afternoon stillness.
"It helps me stay level-headed," Azul gave a flimsy excuse.
She knew women were not expected to read, and those with enough money to learn often were given poetry and religious texts, not topics on the sciences or history.
The courtyard of the shrine was peaceful—dappled sunlight filtering through the overhead lattice, the gentle splash of water from the stream afar, and the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.
"Your board game is rather interesting, though I fear I am not as knowledgeable as you; I can’t possibly play." Nnenna leaned forward, marvelling at the Ukhel Dain board, her dangling snake earrings catching the light.
Azul smiled at the compliment; she felt the snake resting, tightening and slithering up her arm.
In the Borjigin tribe, snakes were considered sacred, so killing one was outlawed. A few snakes had died in her pursuit to cultivate one to her liking, but they killed each other; she had nothing to do with it, or so she told herself.
Chinedu's laughter rang out as he darted between the stone pillars, chasing a dragonfly clearly horrified by the human who insisted on catching it. Nkiru followed at a more sedate pace, half-heartedly scolding him for his boundless energy.
"Young master, you'll tire yourself out before the afternoon meal!"
"I'm not tired!" the boy called back, his small face flushed with exertion and unhindered joy.
Nnenna, the Third Wife, sat across from Azul at the low table, sipping the cool tea with a serene smile.
Her dark robes billowed slightly in the wind and when she spoke, her tone was neither soft nor harsh—the voice of a woman who’d learned to navigate palace politics by being neither enemy nor ally to anyone.
It was not yet noon, and already Azul had received a guest. Though why Nnenna had come remained to be known.
A servant placed a dish of peeled oranges on the table between them, bowed low, and vanished as silently as she'd arrived.
Azul barely glanced at her.
Ever since the boat ride, her isolated sanctuary at the shrine had become far less isolated.
Thanks to the Okpalaeze giving her face, servants appeared from nowhere, sent from all corners of the harem.
Most—if not all—were spies, so Azul found her movements restricted greatly.
The wives needed her out of the main palace.
But they also needed eyes on her at all times.
Azul didn't turn them away. She didn’t have anything in particular to hide.
Not anymore.
"Akwaugo!" Chinedu's voice drew her attention as the boy came barreling toward the table, his eyes fixed on the oranges with the greed of a sticky-fingered child.
"Careful," Nnenna said automatically, though there was fondness in her tone. "You'll knock something over again."
Chinedu skidded to a stop at Azul's side, reaching for an orange slice. Before he could grab it and run off again, Azul caught him gently by the waist and lifted him with a huff onto her lap. He was heavier than she thought.
"Ah!" He squirmed for half a second, then settled, looking up at her with those bright, curious eyes. "Can I have it?"
"May I have one?" Azul corrected, selecting a slice and holding it out to him. "And yes, you may."
He took it with both hands, immediately biting into it with enthusiasm; juice dribbled down his chin, making him look no cleaner than running in the dust already did.
Across the table, Nnenna's expression softened further. "He's fond of you."
"He's a good child," Azul replied, adjusting Chinedu so he sat more comfortably in her lap. The boy leaned back against her naturally, contentedly munching his orange as though he'd sat there a hundred times before.
Azul mused; she'd simply become another fixture of his world, the strange lady at the shrine who gave him medicine for his breathing and sometimes let him play with snakes.
The boy was already reaching for another orange slice.
Nkiru approached then, slightly out of breath. "Young master, you must not sit on the Akwaugo!"
"It's fine." Azul waved a hand, bangles clinking. "You can go and wait in the kitchen for lunch to be done. I'll be fine here."
Nkiru held her tongue, nodded and scampered off. The walk to the kitchen was rather long and she was the only one Azul trusted to retrieve her food, so she would have to go and return alone a few times.
"So, have you decided on what you will do about the marriage?" Nnenna asked, lowering her cup.
Azul stared at the liquid in hers, untouched.
"Why do you ask?"
"I simply worry for you. Marrying a warlord can only mean death—you won't even be buried in Tarsyn, and your children will never know their motherland nor their language. They will be strangers in their father's house, and no one will be there to support them. You will be alone, Akwaugo."
Azul only smiled. To lose a daughter was said to be like losing a limb—how much more so in such a depressing way?
"What choice do I have? The Igwe has decided, has he not?"
Nnenna shook her head. She leaned forward a little, and her brows furrowed as if she were unsure of whether to continue speaking. "The Igwe might be an option for you. Isn't it better to wed him?"
Azul's eyes flickered up, dimming. "Oh?" she asked.
Nnenna nodded, emboldened by the lack of negative response. "I think it is best for you. If you marry Somadina, it would be too humiliating considering your younger sister is already his wife. At least this way, you can climb and gain more power than Iyom."
Azul's lips stretched, but disappointment brewed in her heart.
"But I understand your hesitation," the Third Wife continued with a sigh. "I too did not wish to wed the Igwe, but my family had benefited greatly. You should consider your brothers. If you are sold to a warlord, it would bring them no success and might hinder their rise in court."
This was the first time Azul was hearing her brothers were interested in joining the political sphere. How did two commoners from the village end up in such a good position? Was it truly just because of Somadina?
No, surely he is not that generous?
"You speak wisdom, Third Wife. Thank you for your advice." Azul bowed her head a little, and Nnenna seemed satisfied with herself, as though she had spoken sense into a troublesome youth.
"Take care of yourself, Akwaugo. I will see you at a more convenient time." As she stood, Chinedu seemed to get the hint that his mother was about to leave, so he took five more slices and quickly slid off Azul's lap to follow.
Azul stood to see them off. She watched them descend the shrine steps, her smile fading with their voices.
You disappoint me, she thought, her eyes narrowing.
As she was about to return to her quarters, a far-off figure caught her eyes, returning her smile with more sincerity.
Borji arrived at the shrine as the sun dipped below the horizon. For once, he carried nothing. Instead, Azul had prepared a small meal—rice, stewed vegetables, and dried fish—nothing elaborate but more than she usually bothered with.
"You can cook?" he asked.
"Nkiru helped." Azul nodded towards where the child was curled up in an alcove, fast asleep with the white snake coiled around her waist. "I thought we could share a meal."