"My father came to see me?"she asked.
Borji nodded, heart pounding.
After a long pause, she finally spoke again.What graced her lips was a smile so beautiful that what he felt could only be described in one way.
"I will go meet him."
The fear of god.
Borji stood outside, doors closed behind him.The corridor was silent; not a guard in sight.Sun shone through the open arches, stopping just beyond his feet.For a moment all he could hear was crickets and the rustling of leaves—the natural symphony of a palace corner left deliberately unguarded for the sake of privacy.
When Azul had entered, Borji glimpsed the man who was her father, someone he hadn't seen since the day she had been brought to the palace.
Chukwuemeka.
A warrior of the Borjigin sat with the rigid posture of a soldier even in repose, though age had begun to mark him.He must have been in his late forties, perhaps fifty, with the kind of weathered face that spoke of years spent under harsh sun and harsher circumstances.His skin was dark and deeply lined, particularly around his eyes.
His hair had greyed at the temples and was cropped close to his skull.
Scars marked his exposed forearms—some thin and clean from blades, others puckered and twisted from burns or poorly healed wounds.His hands, resting on his knees, were broad and calloused, the knuckles prominent and slightly swollen from decades of gripping weapons and reins.
Borji felt that the strangest part of his appearance was his clothing.Local warriors were beloved hunters and protectors of their neighbourhoods; they won wrestling matches and were the pride and joy of their people.
They didn't usually wear standardised Imperial armour.
Beside Chukwuemeka sat a young woman, and the resemblance to Azul was striking.She must have been seventeen at most, with the same golden-brown complexion and the same soft cheeks and full lips.Her face was softer than Azul's but held that same intelligence in her dark eyes.Brown hair braided down her back ending with wooden beads just below her shoulder blades, and a simple wrapper in faded green, the cloth worn thin at the edges but clean and carefully maintained.A few brass bangles circled her wrists and gold anklets on bare feet.
The more he pondered, the more Borji reconsidered.They weren’t much alike at all; they were just beautiful with similar basic features.
Borji closed the door after Azul entered and took her seat first; he took one more look at Chidinma and Chukwuemeka as they both sank back down onto their cushions.Because Azul, the adopted princess and Akwaugo of the Borjigin, had now surpassed them in status.
Inside the room, Azul was rather quiet, and for good reason.Her family knew the original Azul more than anyone else—they would notice any oddities in her behaviour.Though she had no memories of civilians burning possessed people, she had no interest in finding out if they would accuse her of something and have her executed.
"Are you still angry?"Her father broke the silence; his despondent tone made her feel strangely isolated in that room, as though there was an immeasurable gap between her and her family, rather than just one tea table.
"I hope you understand—I couldn't decline the Igwe."
Azul felt her lips quirk up."I understand."
"Then you should be more considerate of us.Why have you not sent anything home?"
Her lips stretched wider.Did he come here to beg her for money?While she was being starved and humiliated?What money could she possibly have?
"Have you not heard of the situation in the palace?"Azul reached out for a cup.She had no interest in drinking, but it gave her something to do with her hands."You should know how much they dislike me here.How do you expect me to provide for any of you?"
His eyes narrowed."I expected more from you.When I heard you'd snuck your way into the Okpalaeze's bed, I thought at least I'd hear of your union.Don't tell me you sold your body to him without proper reparations?"
Anger flared in her suddenly.And though she was not typically an impulsive person, she found herself throwing the full cup of tea past them, watching it smash against the opposite wall.Hot liquid splattered across the expensive silk hangings.Ceramic shards scattered across the floor like broken teeth.
They, of all people, knew Azul, so why did they assume such baseless rumours were true?
The three sat in stunned silence as the temperature in the room dropped, tension rising to fill the space left by civility.
"Have you lost your mind, girl!?"Her father hissed, slamming his fist on the table between them.The tea set rattled."Do not forget your place because of your meagre title."
Azul tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, taking a slow breath.Then she met her father's gaze once more, her golden eyes cold as frost."So what do you want from me?Those are just rumours.I am still untouched."
"Fine.Be stubborn in your chastity, but without proper backing from the royal family, you will struggle should the week pass."
