Prologue
Theendofaman would always be his own lasciviousness.
Azul's eyes stung as tears kissed her cheeks.Her nails dug into the prince's arms until blood dripped down, mixing with her sweat.She tried to breathe, but her windpipe was crushed as his weight bore down on her.
It was the New Yam Festival—a time when straw-man masquerades danced and chased children with canes; when hawkers sold groundnuts and ube; when rituals held their greatest power; and when the realms of the living and the spirit were in perfect sync.
Azul, the first daughter of Chukwuemeka, a warrior of the Borjigin tribe, knew that night she would die.
Her vision swayed.
A curse.
She would curse him.
Him, his sons, and his entire lineage.
The Okpalaeze, the man whose knees pushed against her inner thighs, forcing them open, the man whose charming, handsome face was the last thing she saw—that man—she cursed—would never have another day of peace as long as her body remained in Oblivia.
A flash of lightning lit up the room, illuminating the flower vase by the prince's bedside table.It was a beautiful terracotta, filled with branches of wilting flowers.Thunder followed soon after, and rain hammered on the palace roofs.
Azul gasped.Her vision darkened at the edges.
How did it come to this?
In her life, had she not done everything required of her?Even when she was sold to the King, she did not protest and she did not cry; she simply bowed to accept the Igwe’s decree.Why, then, was she being punished?
What had she done?
Tears pooled at the edges of her eyes and fell down to her hair, which sprawled so beautifully beneath her, a halo bestowed upon the girl whom death—whom Ukhel—had chosen.
In her next life, she would seek out this man, and she would kill him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
No matter how long it took, no matter how many years.She would, in every reincarnation, destroy him.
With a vengeful heart, the Akwaugo of the Borjigin tribe, a woman known from the Nri to the Empire of Kemet down south for her beauty, died.
Somadina released his grip and straightened his spine as he panted.Sweat adorned his tense muscles; a loose wrapper was tied around his waist.He pressed two fingers against her neck.
Her pulse was weak but present.
At that, he moved quickly, pulling her legs apart, putting one above his shoulder, and preparing himself.Then he stopped.An aggressive knock came from the door.
Somadina flinched, hand moving for a sword that wasn't there on instinct.Realising he wasn't in any danger, he took a deep breath to calm his beating heart.
"Who dares?"he asked in a grandiose tone.He had given his guards express orders not to disturb him under any circumstances.
He waited for a moment but heard nothing.Pursing his lips, he dropped Azul's legs, tying the wrapper tight around his waist as he headed for the entrance.
Opening the dark wood door, he looked out into the empty corridors, eyes glancing over the torches, then the plush crimson rugs imported from the Thessaran Empire.The portraits and tapestries that lined the walls flickered.As he instructed, there was no one.
Narrowing his eyes, Somadina closed the door.As he turned to continue where he left off, pain flared through his head.
