He didn't hear her approach.
He only knew she was there when her shadow fell across him, when the air shifted with her presence.He knew who it was.
The devil.
She knelt beside him.She placed her palm on her chest, the way he’d seen the Valthorne soldiers do when they prayed.
Chinedu's tears continued to fall.He hated that she was seeing this.Hated that she was here, witnessing his weakness.But he couldn't stop.The grief was too big, too heavy, too much for his small body to contain.
And then she spoke.
"Ukhel, Lord of the Seven Gates.Grant him clarity.Grant him a sound mind.Grant him peace."
She broke a kola nut and let it fall.
Then she lowered herself until her forehead touched the wet stone, and she prayed for his mother.
"May you guide her soul into the afterlife.May you give her the joy denied her in this place."
Chinedu's sniffling stopped.
She was praying for Nnenna.Speaking her name.Asking the gods to be kind to her.
Why?
He wiped his face with his sleeve and rose to his feet.She rose with him.
They stood together in the dim shrine, two people who should have been enemies, sharing a moment of understanding.
He walked toward the stairs and stopped; his heart was too heavy to leave without saying anything.
"Thank you, imperial sister, for your prayers."
His voice came out cold.He meant it to.He needed her to know that this changed nothing.That he still remembered what she had done.
"Take care of yourself."Her voice was soft."The journey is still far.You will reclaim all that is yours."
The wind picked up, tugging at his robes, carrying her words away.
He wanted to ask her,Is that something you would like?
He wanted to know if she feared what he might become, if she lay awake at night worrying about the day he would be old enough to demand answers, to demand justice, to demand her head for his mother's death.
But he didn't ask.
Because he already knew the answer.
He descended the steps.
Chinedu looked at the servant reporting to him; his hand stilled on the painting below him.The memory of that meeting at the shrine had seared itself into his brain, enough that he would not rest until he could see it once more on paper.“The Akwaugo is under house arrest?”
The servant nodded.“Yes, Third Prince.Should we send our condolences?”
Condolences?
Chinedu looked at the half-finished painting; all that was left were her eyes.
He scoffed.“No need.”
