Her left foot hurt. She could almost swear some of her toes were broken from smashing them against the stone she did not espy before her collision with it. Merely looking down at the aching limb, however, did not give her any clues as to why it hurt that horribly.

The pain was not lessening, and Ugegbe had to wonder whether it was not, in fact, growing worse. She effortfully leaned against one of the walls, which was bronzed a dark red from the red sand used in its fashioning. She then raised her harmed foot to inspect it. Indeed, there was nothing to be seen. None of her toes were crooked or broken, or out of place. Yet, the pain shooting from the tip of her toes to the sole of her foot was unrelenting.

"What is wrong with you?" She shook the ill foot lightly, asking it a question that it could not answer. It was clear that she would be receiving no response. There was, therefore, only one option for her, and it was getting an ointment for the pain from Daa Agughalam.

As she limped to the female servants' quarters, she could not help but risk a dangerous, backward glance at the spot the prince had been just moments ago. Her eyes scanned the clearing, scaling over the wooden rails that demarcated the beginning of the plot of land on which the second queen's palace was built on. But there was nothing to be found. He was gone.

Ugegbe swallowed, wincing at the heavy lump that held her throat captive and the ballast weighing down on her chest. She really could not fathom the reason for her sadness. Why was she so troubled when she'd never been sure of what she felt for the man? This wistfulness was unwarranted and unexpected, especially when she brought about the end results with her own hands.

It would be wrong to lie and even more consequential now that she'd become born again. She'd given her life to her God, and she was aware that she needed to act in ways that reflected the huge change in her life. Starting with the truth, which was that she was slowly beginning to regret her actions.

She regretted that she'd been much too quick, much too hasty, to demand an answer from the prince without giving him enough time to gather the courage he might have needed to speak his truth. What if he was like she'd been since the day he saved her from the assassins, still confused and indecisive about his own emotions?

It was a plausible reason, but then again, she knew it was not why he could not give her a reply. It was not because Prince Uzochi did not understand what he felt or how deep those feelings ran that he ducked around her inquiry but rather because he'd never thought that far before.

He'd never thought of a future with her. All he'd professed and confessed over and over again was his love for her. He'd trumpeted the three words whenever and wherever without considering what saying them to a maiden should entail.

"Did you ever plan on marrying me, my lord?" She recollected her questioning to him. The fact that he had nothing to say in return should not have surprised her as much as it did, but it did.

She could not have expected that the first roadblock that would be encountered would be the very first question she asked of him. She'd thought that he would at least have contemplated her future with her as his wife, even if it was just once. Never had she been so sorely mistaken.

When she'd posed her inquiry, he'd become tongue-tied. Instead of supplying a word in response, he'd appeared guilt-stricken. She could tell from the shamefaced expression that crumpled his features and by how he glanced uncomfortably at everything but her, blatantly refusing to meet her gaze. At that moment, she realised how stupidly mistaken she'd since been and how ignorant she'd let herself be.

Despite the many experiences life had taught her, one of which was making sure not to put her confidence in those in positions higher than she was or had yet upper hand in the relationship she shared with them. Yet, she'd given the prince even more than a minor benefit of the doubt.

Though she could not decipher what she felt for him and so decided to ignore it, whatever it happened to be, she had been ready to slowly open up her heart to him. Among the emotions the thought of him evoked in her, respect was the utmost and most vivid. Maybe she should have taken this as a sign and prevented any further disappointments.

Respect did not equal love. No matter what perspective she regarded the issue from now, she knew her thought process had been wrong. It was true that she did respect him. However, she was mistaken by choosing to foolishly imagine that respect could replace love and other beautiful emotions present in an un-platonic relationship.

The second prince was handsome. He was broader, darker and taller than most men in the village. According to what she'd heard from the maidens working alongside her in the palace, he could very well be the most attractive man in the whole of Osisi though Ugegbe was not sure whether to agree with this saying or not.

There was no doubt that he was manly in all the ways most women expected men to be and that he was born with a face that was pleasant to look at.  Even she could not deny these facts. Yet, despite all the attractive features that he bore, she did not know why her heart had been stubborn and refused to accept him.

It must be the positions they were in. He was her master, and she was a slave, his own personal slave if he so desired and wished for her service. Relationships between lords and their servants rarely ended up well. It was once forbidden. But even though the matter was no longer taboo, such issues still faced quiet dissents.

Ugegbe did not want to think of what could happen if she and the prince became a couple, and she decided to marry him. The whole village would deride and belittle her. She would turn to an enemy of the royal families, and her father would become a target of endless ridiculing. Everywhere they went, they would be accused of thievery and of being free-loafers.

As it was, the man was already facing shame and disgrace, having lost his position in society. The situation would become dire if she dared let the prince be her husband.

Well, she didn't have to worry about that anymore. He never planned to marry her in the first place. She'd been the only one who was delusional, making up a whole scenario that only existed in her head, deceiving herself that the prince cared much for her than he actually did. Today, she'd found out that he didn't.

If she were honest with herself, she knew even before today. In the smaller palace, rumours spread like accidental farm fires in the harmattan season. Whatever happened in the king's palace ultimately reached all in the queen's residence.

News travelled faster than anything one could imagine, and it was only a matter of time before she found out what was causing so much of a ruckus among the women. It was a comedic view. Ugegbe recalled the sight of many maidens clustering in small groups, wearing mournful looks on their faces. Their expressions were as if the world was coming to an end.

Ugegbe was initially confused by the extravagant display of grief as she had not heard of anyone kicking the bucket or of an unfortunate misery befalling any of those who worked with her. Of course, she could not inquire herself and had no motivation to walk into the midst of a pack of hyenas who recently had singled her out as a target of their anger due to her recently popularised relationship with the second prince.

As she passed them by, however, she noticed something to be off about their countenances. They did not seem to be irritated with her as usual. Instead, they appeared to pity her. Many of their faces were twisted into sympathetic masks. But it was not the case with all of them. Some of the maids had an amused expression in place of pity. Ugegbe was unsure which she preferred, mainly because she had no clue what was the cause of their reaction. She found the situation beyond strange.

At the end of the day, while she'd been at the sleeping hut, Zelunjo returned from the stream with news for her. Now that Ugegbe reflected back at the moment, it was clear that Zelunjo had expected her to be more shaken than she'd been. As the prince had once claimed her openly before the servants, she must have assumed that Ugegbe would react strongly to the novel development and was visibly astounded that she was not.

How could she be when she knew how the nobility worked? The royals reached out to those close to their rankings to strengthen alliances and, more importantly, the hold on and amount of power they had in reach. It came as no surprise that Prince Uzochi had formally been introduced to the second richest chief's daughter.

It was said that the lady had had her eyes set on the second prince for a very long time and was an opportunist who used her father's position to her advantage. Ugegbe had scoffed when she heard the news being passed around as she found them very irrelevant and slightly annoying.

Indeed, there were very few women who did not fancy the prince. After all, he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the community, a man supposedly great all around. Therefore, she mused that it should not have been made such a big deal that the woman had chosen the second prince to be the man whom she wished to woo her.

Was it so wrong that she'd done the picking apart herself? From what Ugegbe had seen, people only had problems with how a thing was done when a woman was doing it. Men chose wives all the time; why was it such a taboo that a woman had chosen her husband?

Even if it was only allowed subtly, at the very least, the sense of making such an important decision should be shared by both parties. After all, a man did not marry himself, and neither did a woman herself. Both had to cooperate with each other to form a home. It was thus sad that the alliance was hardly ever one with both parties on equal footing. Men constantly held power, and in countless cases, forced women to bend to their will.

Ugegbe was glad that the chief's daughter made her choice herself. And what was it they said about her making use of her father's influence? What person would not make the most of what they had when it was within arm's reach? She knew no one who would not. Even she would not.

Back when her father was still favoured by the king being a distant cousin though unrelated by blood, she lived a comfortable life. She was allowed to do both what she needed and wanted. By using her privilege, she learned, for the most part, the medicinal use of herbs and how to use them to her advantage. She'd brought up the idea to her father, who paid for her to learn valuable skills from a medicine-woman.

Her father's money helped her learn all that she knew about medicinal plants and was one reason she was able to treat the second prince after meeting him with all sorts of deep wounds, serious abrasions and wide scrapes. Had she not made good use of the wealth her family-owned, would she have been able to help the prince? The answer was obviously negative.

Now that she thought of it, if it were a man who had used his father's position to his benefit, there would not have been so much of a backlash as there was with the lady. In fact, she was certain there wouldn't have been any at all. How could there be any talkbacks when apparently, men only did perfect things.

Zelunjo failed in concealing her surprise when Ugegbe had voiced her support for the chief's daughter. Her response made Ugegbe laugh as she did not mean to make only said what she sincerely felt. Often, women pitted themselves against one another, but she had never found a reason to do so.

The only scenario she could ever envisage in that regard was if she was someday, somehow, a miserable woman who held grudges against others. Until then, she would always be on the side of women as long as the end goal was doing what was right. She would always hope for and join in solidarity with other women as long as they let her do so.

So far, it was almost impracticable to find women with whom she could join hands. Or maybe it was just in the palace that the difficulty lay. She'd tried to make friends with the maids in the palace but to no avail. They all disliked her from the beginning and for no reason that she knew of.

Nevertheless, this did not mean she held any grudges against a single one of them. Nor did it entail her giving up on someday being accepted by groups of women who understood the shorter end of the stick they held in society and were ready to stand up to their male counterparts. Maybe, she would never see such come to pass in her lifetime, but she hoped that someday it would. It was a silent, earnest wish of hers.

Retracing her thoughts back to the chief's daughter, Ugegbe wondered what kind of a person she was. Surely, she was good and would fit the prince as his spouse. Her mannerisms and personality must have been stellar since the king willingly agreed to and did introduce her to his son as the guest candidate for being his wife.

Yet, even though she knew of the introduction and the reality that he could be marrying the woman the very next day if the king chose to bring forward a date for the union, she'd waited to ask him in person. She'd hoped that the prince had not only chased after her with no solid motive in mind but to while away seconds with her.

As much as she hated to admit it, Ugegbe knew she was prideful. It injured her pride to think that the second prince addressed her without any plans for the future. It was consequently tragic that he eventually confirmed her fears with his muteness in the face of her inquests.

Ugegbe brushed at her stinging eyes as the air stirred with searing heat. It annoyed her that in place of anger that should be burning inside her, all she could feel was an aching sadness. Even more, it distressed her that life had reduced her to the point that she presently was.

Was it not a few years ago that she was eating and dining as the daughter of a rich man? Now, she was a slave who could not even be considered as a last resort for one who was of royalty. Oh, how low the mighty had fallen. And just how unfair was life for bringing the high to their knees when the punishment was undeserved? She felt as if she'd been wounded with a long, poisoned spear. The pain was too much. It hurt to bear.

But there was no room for self-pity. She would not indulge too long in such a luxury. She would instead focus on the bright side of life. Soon, she would be out of the bondage she currently was in, and that day would come when she would be a free woman. She had no choice but to stay strong and patiently await her freedom.

Turning around, she stumbled forward, hurtling for the palace kitchen. She needed her foot treated instead of troubling herself with issues with that regarded the prince. She was thankful that she did not have to depend on him for the necessities in her life. All he'd given her, he'd done of his own accord, and she could very well live without them.

Since there was no one else to confuse her or get her emotions in a knot, she could now focus on what was required of her and not whether her heart desired to accept a man or not. She would work with all her might until the beautiful day when she would no longer have to work from dawn till dusk while another clutched the fruits of her labour.

At the wooden door, Ugegbe peeked into the crowded space while catching her breath from the tasking run. With her foot angrily calling for attention, it had taken more energy than she'd expected to reach her destination.

In the kitchen, there was a good deal of bustling going on. She caught slight swirlings of dust as the frenzied, almost frantic, movements continued. Of course, there was a hurry for preparations. It was the time of the month where the king preferred to take his meals impossibly earlier than usual. She'd had the opportunity to forget since the events of the day had overtaken her.

Well, it was as clear as fine glass that Daa Aghughalam would not be sparing her a glance, not to talk of stopping what she was doing to find oils for her. She would have to wait until later to ask. Thankfully, the pain seemed to be levelling off and tapering into a throbbing ache instead of the harsh pain that felt as if it was rushing from one end of her foot to the other.

The sun was still high up in the sky, further speaking of the strangeness that came with the king eating his dinner at such a time. That aside, the day being so bright meant that a little one could be hiding somewhere in the bushes not too distant from the kitchen, waiting for a meal.

True to her conjecture, squatting among a reef of elephant grasses was the child she'd been waiting for. "Nwanta, bia!" She called out softly to him, but the suddenness of her presence meant he was still startled and staggered backwards, falling onto his buttocks. Poor thing. She thought, bustling towards the ugly plants to offer help to the child who was scrambling to gain his bearings.

"Come!" She reached out to him while gauging his reaction. It would not be a first for him to run away at being spooked, and she truly did not want the incident to repeat itself. "Leave the grass, this child. They have sharp blades that can easily cut you."

Her words seemed to get to him as he stepped out from the hiding place in which he'd burrowed himself with a bashful look on his face. Ugegbe smiled assuredly at him. "You have come for food, have you not?" She asked, and he nodded furiously in reply then beamed at her. His enthusiasm was always a sight to see, and even though he rarely talked, she could tell he was a cheerful soul.

"Follow me. I will give you dried rabbit meat. You like smoked meat, do you not?" She glanced at him as they both walked to the smallest of the female servants' huts, the one she slept in with Zelunjo. "Why do you not want to tell me your name?" Her gaze turned keen as she awaited his reply but soon softened when she noted the child's mood had darkened.

It was then it dawned on her. She had been asking the wrong questions. It was not supposed to be what his name was but rather whether he had a name. Truly it was an occasion rarer than catching sight of a blue moon. But there were cases Ugegbe had heard of where a child was never named. Could it be that he did not...

"Do you not have a name?" Her tone matched the sadness that had slipped over her. The boy's silence and single head-shake told her all that she needed to know.

Her heart throbbed for the little one. He was about four years in age, yet, he had no name. How was it even possible? Did he live in the market squares alone with no one to cater for him? If there was any a time to shed tears, Ugegbe reckoned it was now.

Though it had been clear to her that things were not easy for the child, she had expected him to at least have one family member take care of him; her guess has been along the lines of a grandma or an older sibling. However, she was sadly mistaken. The reality that he had no name meant that he was all alone.

Not anymore. She would take care of him as her little sibling. She would make sure he had something to eat every day, and she would name him. He was a child, and he deserved to be happy. His gaunt, hollow cheeks deserved to be as plump and ruddy as tomatoes. And she would do her best to make sure it came true.

Hobbling towards the hut with a small, bony hand locked in hers, Ugegbe was on a mission. She was so focused on her goal that she did not hear her name being called until after the third time. "Ugegbe!"

Whipping herself around, Ugegbe found Zelunjo scuttling to her, her face twisted in concern. "Why do you call me so urgently, Zelu?" All of her body tensed in wait for her friend's answer. 

"The...the prince has sent for you!"
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A/N: Hey loves, I sometimes have drafts written out that I haven't edited. I think I might just start posting them from now on. The only thing is that there might be a good deal of errors. However, the updates might be a little more consistent. Would you loves prefer me doing so? Do let me know!💛