Nnenna walked forward on unsteady legs and fell to her knees at the edge of Azul's bed.The bundle in her arms shifted slightly, and Azul caught a glimpse of a small face.It was pale and sickly and struggling to breathe even in sleep.
The false princess looked down at the kneeling woman, golden eyes seeming to glow with what could only be amusement.Her lips stretched wide as she struggled not to laugh at the exquisite perfection of it all.
"Please."Nnenna's voice cracked before she could continue.Despite being soaked through, Azul could tell she'd been crying long before she'd stepped into the storm."Save my son."
Of all potential allies, those who were often overlooked were the ones Azul treasured most.
The desperate.
The cornered.
The ones who had no choice but to bind themselves to her out of sheer necessity, unknowingly kneeling to the source of their sorrows.
It was like a child meeting a line of working ants.Slowly the child would block all paths for one and watch it circle in search of an exit.To an ant unaware of the concept of a human, would it not be an act of god if something suddenly lifted it out of its endless prison and gave it freedom?
That, to Azul, was power.
Not a throne, not wealth, and not even reputation.But the ability to save a man or push him towards despair.
She'd known the Iyom would want to test any rumours if she caught wind of them—the woman was nothing if not thorough in her cruelty.And Nnenna, for all her caution, for all her careful neutrality, could never truly guard against the Iyom, who held the harem in her palm like a handful of eggs she could crush at will.
In less than a week, Nnenna's son had been reduced to such a pathetic state.If she called the Imperial Physician, the entire harem would confirm her son was born with health issues.The Igwe would hear of it.The Dowager would follow suit.Chinedu would lose favour and would be seen as unworthy of succession.
Everything Nnenna had worked for, all those years of holding her tongue and bowing her head to the other wives, of protecting her only child—would be gone.
Thunder cracked overhead, and lightning illuminated Nnenna's face—streaked with rain and tears, twisted with a mother's anguish.
"Please," she whispered again."I know you understand what ails him.The windows—you knew.You knew.Help him.I'll do anything.Anything you ask."
Azul let the silence stretch, savouring it.Then she reached out and placed a hand on Nnenna's wet hair, the gesture almost tender.
"Third Wife, please do not kneel.Such a thing you need not beg for.Naturally, I will help you," she said softly."The child is innocent in all of this."
Nnenna's shoulders sagged with relief so deep it looked painful.
"I have coin," the Third Wife said quickly."Not much, but—I can get more.I have jewellery.Land deeds from my father.I can—"
"No."
Nnenna looked up, confusion flickering across her desperate features."But I must repay—"
"You owe me nothing," Azul interrupted, her expression narrowing, hands tightening around the woman's face."I'm helping because it's the right thing to do.A child's suffering is not a tool for negotiation."
The lies came easily, but they were loose.
Nnenna stared at her, and Azul could see her sharp mind working, turning over this unexpected development.
Truly, the fear Nnenna felt shouldn't have been fear of her child dying but fear of falling into Azul's hands.
"I'll prepare a tincture," Azul continued, rising from her bed."I can't cure him, but I know what can ease his breathing.You'll need to keep all flowers out of his room—no exceptions.Burn mugwort and eucalyptus in the evenings.Keep the air clean and dry."
She moved to her small collection of foraged herbs, selecting what she needed.Behind her, Nnenna remained kneeling, silent, her mind clearly racing.
"But," the Third Wife said finally, voice strained, "I cannot accept charity.I must—there must be some way to repay this kindness."
"I want nothing from you," Azul said without turning around.
Except everything.
