Sighing, he lifted his head to the ceiling, having other, more important things to deal with.
"The rumours are spreading exactly as you predicted.The people are terrified.They're looking for someone to blame."
Somadina's lips curved.
"And the direction of their gaze..."Chukwuemeka paused."It seems to have settled on the Akwaugo."
Somadina laughed; finally, a sliver of good news in this mess.
Chukwuemeka bowed his head lower, understanding Somadina’s feelings."And the other matter, Your Highness?Your ascension?"
Somadina's eyes snapped to him, sharp and dangerous."What of it?"
"No matter how much we push, she refuses.She will not accept you as her Divine King.She will not perform the acceptance ritual."
The room seemed to grow colder.
"She still refused?"he repeated.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"And you cannot make her?"
Chukwuemeka's jaw tightened."She is a Djinn.Her gift is genuine.If she does not perform the ritual willingly, it will not work.Ikenga will not accept a coerced offering."
"Why?"His voice was barely a whisper."Why does everything fight me?The throne.The Djinn.That woman."He turned, and Chukwuemeka flinched at what he saw in those eyes."I am meant to be king.I am the Okpalaeze.Why does everyone resist?"
“My Lord, if the child is not willing, perhaps we should find another Shaman.”
Somadina clenched his fists.Shamans did not simply fall from the sky; it took great skill—where could he simply find another one?
“My Lord,” Chukwuemeka dropped one more hint.“There is someone with the knowledge and the skill.The question is, is she willing?”
Under her bed, the space was empty.
Azul knelt on the cold stone floor, her hand reaching into the darkness, searching.
The little snake was gone.
She rose slowly, finding herself in a moment of uncertainty.Did it abandon her?But she had trained it to stay with her.She couldn’t even feel the skin it shed.
Could it be that it moved somewhere to shed its skin?
Azul closed her eyes; she did not like how unprotected she felt without it.And so the walk to the library, alone, was the longest of her life.
Azul had not left the shrine since the war council.Had not seen the faces of the palace since the rumours began, and until now, she didn’t quite understand what it meant to be hunted by whispers.
The servants scattered as she passed, pressing themselves against walls, averting their eyes.Nobles she passed in the corridors did not meet her gaze, but she felt their stares on her back like knives.
Something wet struck her cheek.
Azul stopped.
She raised a hand to her face and looked at her fingers.Spit.Someone had spat on her.
She turned slowly, searching the corridor behind her.Servants.Guards.A few low-ranking nobles.All of them looking anywhere but at her.All of them pretending they had seen nothing.
No one would admit to it.No one would claim responsibility.
