Azul knelt before the pillar, setting down her parchment and ink.She dipped her brush and tried to read the scriptures.The first character took the shape of a circle—death, ending, the closing of a cycle.
Borji crouched beside her, far too close for propriety."You can actually write?"
"Did you think I couldn't?"Azul didn't look up from her work.
"Most daughters of commoners can't.Your father must've spent all his coin on you."
Azul pursed her lips.An outsider would have said her father truly cared for her.
Borji watched her work in silence for a moment, then reached out and plucked the brush from her fingers.
The girl’s head snapped up."What are you—"
"Your writing is terrible," he said, examining the characters she'd written."The strokes are too heavy here, too light there.Grandmother won't accept it."
Heat flooded Azul's face—not embarrassment, but anger."Then I will redo it until it's perfect."
"Or, you could let me help you."Borji handed back the brush.
Her brows furrowed."Why would you help me?"
The prince shrugged, his expression unreadable."I have nothing better to do.Besides, if you anger Grandmother, Iyom might use the opportunity to be rid of you for good.I personally wish to invest in you killing Somadina."
"Who said I'm going to kill him?"She felt like a cornered mouse.
"You won't?So why all that nonsense last night?I almost took you seriously."
Azul was speechless, unsure of what to say next."I mean, I do wish to kill him.But should you be supporting me so shamelessly?Aren't you his brother?"
His smile remained, but the light in his eyes dimmed."There is no such thing as familial bonds in the royal family."
They both fell silent.Azul wasn't stupid enough to assume his life was easy simply because he was the son of the Igwe.The very fact he had no mother to protect him meant he must have had to struggle in the harem alone.
Her eyes, for a moment, moved from his face down his exposed back, and there in the sunlight was the faint sheen of a scar that ran down his back from his neck.
"If you want to survive this place..."his voice took her away from the new discovery.He straightened, lifting the brush from the parchment and dipping it in ink."Be slow to anger, slow to speak, and quick to understand.Or you will be carried away by them, and you will eventually drown."
Their eyes met, and she could feel a strange sense of kinship with him.
"You can copy my handwriting, right?"
Azul looked at the parchment.His handwriting was spotless, not a flaw to be seen.
"Easily."
Eventually, Azul found herself alone, word after word transcribed on page after page.She used Borji's writing as a reference, and her speed was like a snail's, but she had no choice.Soon enough the sun dropped until the entire shrine was too dark for her eyes to see anything.
Footsteps came behind her, and though she did not stop, she called out to ask who it was.
"It is Nkiru, Akwaugo."
Her title was grating to her ears.Straightening her back and rolling her shoulders, Azul turned to see the feisty girl from earlier standing quite timidly by the stairs leading up to the shrine.
"What's wrong?"
"Akwaugo, there has been no delivery from the kitchen today.The servants have sent me to enquire about what we should do."
"Is that all?"Azul turned back to her work."Go and ask the kitchen."
