“Do not forget yourself.Copy the scriptures of women’s duties until you understand the role of a first wife.This behaviour I might’ve expected from the Iyom, but you?”His hand darkened, the brush in his hand snapping.“If he had not already punished you, I would have killed you.”
The Ugoeze’s head fell to the floor quickly, trying to stop her shaking.“My Lord, you are right; I was wrong.”
The Igwe ignored her, dropping his broken brush and stomping past her, unwilling to see her face.
Chidinma's chambers were small and dark, tucked in a corner of Somadina's quarters where the sun rarely reached.She preferred it that way.Light revealed too much.
She sat by the window, embroidery frame in her hands, stitching the same flower for the third time.Her fingers moved automatically, the needle dipping and rising, her mind muddled with many thoughts, none she wanted to dwell on.
“Your Highness,” a servant called from behind.“Your father has sent word.”
Chidinma’s hands stopped.“What did he say?”
“He says you must bear it, for in the end, your reward will be great.”
Her lips pressed together in a thin line, and she continued her embroidery.“I see, you may leave.”
The servant bowed and scurried away, the door closing, only to open a few minutes later, letting her husband in without ceremony.
Somadina's footsteps crossed the room; he stopped behind her chair.His shadow fell across her work, across her hands, across her.
"The Ugoeze was punished severely."
Chidinma's needle paused; her cheeks still stung from that morning."I heard."
His hands landed on her shoulders.
"You've been quiet lately; I hope you aren’t ill."
Her teeth chattered."I've been tired."
"Tired."The word was mocking."Of what?Sitting?Stitching?Being useless?"
She didn't answer.What answer would satisfy him?What answer would make this stop?
Chidinma gasped as he yanked her head back, his other hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing.The embroidery frame clattered to the floor, the needle skittering across the tiles.
He was behind her, so she couldn't see his face.Could only feel his grip, his weight, his presence consuming her very being.
"Try not to overstep your bounds next time; just stay at home and manage the household," he whispered as he kissed her ear."All your fine breeding—you are a beautiful specimen of a woman.I appreciate every coin your father spent on you."
She couldn't breathe but existed under the pressure of his hand.He released her hair, pushing her head forwards until she was pressed against the window, his hands working against her skirt layers.
When he finished, he released her without ceremony.Before she could recover from the lack of air in her lungs, he was already at the door.
"Clean yourself up," he said without looking back."You look pathetic."
The door closed.
Chidinma sat in the darkness, her body shaking, her hands pressed to her bruised throat.
For a long time, she didn't move.Then, slowly, she made her way to her writing desk and picked up her writing brush and dipped it in ink.
The words came without thought, writing down what her soul wished to express.
Once done, she sanded the ink, folded the parchment, and sealed it with a drop of wax.Then she sat staring at it with empty eyes.
The letter was written and addressed to one person: Azul.
