It disturbed him, but Borji could not say if he simply felt challenged by her; perhaps he had been too lax in his own path to vengeance.As though he had forgotten the scar that cut down his back and the tears he had shed in his father's palace, kneeling and begging.
How could he have forgotten all that pain?
His thoughts plagued him during court sessions, during training, and during the endless political theatre that was palace life.His father's wives continued to smile at him and his brothers postured and preened.He had overthought himself into believing Azul was actually a masterful strategist, and for that he wished to slap himself.What did a village girl know?She merely worked on her instincts, dangerous as they were.
The shrine appeared through the trees; he could see Nkiru hanging washing on a line, her voice a pleasant accompaniment to the humid air.
Borji's steps slowed as he approached the main building.
Azul was there, squatting in the grass near the edge of the grove, her attention fixed intently on something at her feet.She looked younger with her hair pulled back in two buns.
Curious despite his conflicted thoughts, he moved closer, his footsteps quiet on the damp grass.He crouched beside her, following her gaze downward to a small white snake.
It coiled in the grass, barely two feet long, its scales gleaming like pale jade in the sunlight.Its head swayed slightly, tongue flicking out to taste the air.It seemed to slither back and forth aimlessly, unsure where to go.
"Why does it seem so lost?"Borji asked, his voice quiet so as not to startle the creature.
Azul didn't look away from the snake, but he saw the corner of her mouth quirk up."This is the first time I've released it.I'm seeing if it will run."
This is what she's been cultivating?
He stared more carefully, trying to pinpoint what was so special about this snake in particular.
The snake's head turned toward them, and Borji found himself meeting its emerald-green eyes, all three pairs.
"Of course it won't run," Azul sighed, more to herself than to him.There was satisfaction in her voice, as though her hard work had paid off."It knows where its food comes from.Where safety is.Why would it run when everything it needs is here?"
Borji felt his stomach lurch, the scar down his spine radiating with newfound pain as though it had grown weary of dormancy.
She reached down and the snake didn't resist as she lifted it.It wound around her wrist, then up her forearm, finally disappearing into the sleeve of her robe with such ease that it made Borji's skin crawl.
Azul stood and finally looked at him directly.
"Where have you been?"she asked."Any news?"
"It might not be of any interest to you, but news from the Ameachi.One of the Princess Consorts has died."
Crossing her arms, she shifted her weight, waiting for him to continue.
"She walked into the Udamili at night and did not come out."
"Suicide?"
Borji nodded."It seems she was under great stress; many are speculating it might have to do with her fertility, or lack thereof.Recently the Igwe gifted his third son a new concubine; it must’ve upset her—the main wife."
Azul pursed her lips; they both knew the kind of harsh words that would be said about the poor girl.Jealousy was not an emotion designated for a first wife; it was only for petty women and whores.To commit suicide over something as trivial as a co-wife was a great shame to the Princess Consort’s family.
"You should send a letter to the grieving prince."
"Who?Me?"Borji asked, flabbergasted.He barely knew the Third Prince, and such a matter was already shameful as is; why would he ever do such a thing?
Azul nodded."I will write it; you only need to send it.But I’d like to think that’s not all you’re here to tell me."
Borji struggled to speak; finding the right words suddenly seemed difficult.
"Azul," he said finally, his voice rougher than he intended."If your father came to visit you...would you want to see him?"
Azul's expression didn't change immediately.She simply glanced to the side, to the forest.Borji followed her gaze, unsure what had drawn her attention.
