Chapter 50
Onochie's fist fell to his side, dangling without life. Once again he'd been heaven to the punch, completely overtaken by Kamalu. Disappointment and defeat swirled in his chest as he gritted his teeth bitterly. Why did things always turn out this way? Why couldn't he have helped her? Why did he have to always be late? Why? Why? Why?
Anger and a sentiment all too similar to resentment cooked around him, constricting his throat and windpipe. He only wanted to help her. Why was it so difficult for him to do something so simple? It was his fault she was suffering.
He was the one who gave Ifediaso his post at the palace, handing him the power to belittle and bully others. He was the one who sent him away from his throne room on a fourth of anger after banishing him to a lower sentry's status at the border. It was all his fault. So why couldn't he remedy his mistakes? Why was it so impossible for him to grasp that chance to make everything right?
It was always too late for him. While he'd gone searching for Ezinwanyi first, Kamalu had gotten to her before him. Now, he was her saviour—something he wanted to be.
Onochie had surged through the ring of packed bodies, rage driving him forward at the scene unravelling when Kamalu's yell had cut him off in his tracks. He had no choice but to linger in the shadows of the crowd, understanding that nothing would be achieved if he revealed himself after Kamalu had already taken charge of the matter.
Perhaps he should be grateful to his chief guard. Onochie had been willing and ready to jump in for Ezinwanyi's sake that he'd forgotten she was the only one who did not know his true identity as king. Ifediaso was well aware of it. Thus, getting involved would have been a huge mistake that no doubt would have revealed his secret. Still, this reasoning did not make him feel any better than he previously was.
"I ordered you to stand down, Ifediaso!" Kamalu was saying. "Did you not hear me? Or do you dare disobey your Commander?" Yes, Onochie noted belatedly. Kamalu's newest title was also Commander.
Onochie recalled bestowing on him the rank months ago when he went about increasing the size of Zoro's troops. So far, they'd doubled in number, but it wasn't yet enough. His people would need greater protection since Zoro's borders had opened. Otherwise, they'd be left exposed and vulnerable to the forces of other kingdoms. Onochie cringed to note that there was yet much to be done.
"Oh no!" His attention shot back to Ifediaso who was shaking his head vehemently; his mockery was as obvious as maggots floating in Black soup. "Of course not. I would never make the mistake of disrespecting our dear chief guard–pardon my misgiving–I meant to say, our highly esteemed Commander."
"Your words are no mockery to me, Ifediaso, for I am both chief guard and Commander of the King's soldiers. Nevertheless, you shall be punished for your insolence and for putting the people of our kingdom at risk with your depravity and vile degeneracy. You have no right to be one of the king's chosen. And as such, I will petition that you be removed from your post. Though I doubt that will be a problem once your iniquities are made mention of."
"But I have done nothing wrong!" He cried aloud, and Onochie bristled despite his plan to keep his emotions bridled under a tight clasp.
Kamalu was none the less annoyed by the senseless display. "Come with me, Ifediaso. You can explain yourself to the king when he is ready to listen to your story."
Onochie pinpointed the exact moment Ifediaso's mask fell from his face, a ceramic pot shattering on a craggy rock. Rage billowed in a cold air around him. Rationale seemed to win in the end, as he gave in and fell in line behind the chief guard.
Kamalu gestured that he not trail but rather walk in front of him before turning around to address Ezinwanyi. His voice was uncharacteristically low as he spoke to her. Onochie could not hear a word from where he stood in the crowd.
Perhaps it was why he bit on the gall of his pique when Kamalu's hand made contact with her elbow. He likely was only steadying her as she seemed faint, but Onochie's jealousy was malevolently spiteful. He was as irascible as a crabby old man, staring down the scene with the greatest displeasure ever mustered.
He breathed out a sough of relief when Kamalu eventually broke contact with her and led Ifediaso away. By the direction they took, he surmised they were headed for the palace. Good riddance to the fool that Ifediaso had become.
The nosy gathering began to dissipate at the chief guard's leave. One or two women brushed shoulders with Ezinwanyi, offering words of solace before returning to their sheds. She appeared so forlorn that Onochie felt a thistle prick at his heart. Ifediaso had brought her enough hurt, and he battled the urge to march up to and comfort her.
It ultimately won over him.
Refusing to spare another thought, he sprang into action, streaking for the beauty who was slowly ambling away from him. She'd bent to retrieve her fallen basket when he caught up to her, pulling her into his embrace.
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Ugegbe was stunned, gasping aloud as she was pulled into a pair of strong arms. "What is going on—" her ensuing protest tumbled off her tongue once she caught a whiff of that rich scent that was chiefly his. Onochie. She abandoned her basket and logic and permitted her body to sag into his warmth. A small breeze serenaded the pair as she allowed him to hold her without restraints.
It occurred to her only too late that this wasn't ideal. She was enclosed in the arms of a man who was not her husband or betrothed. Worse, one who belonged to another woman.
Yet, she was tongue-tied when he cradled her face with his large hand, his thumb tracing circles over her cheekbone. His other arm was tight on her slender waist, propping her up. She hadn't realised she was tired and weak at the knees until he'd lent her his strength.
"Ezinwanyi, are you alright?" He gazed at her from underneath the cotton wrapper draped over his head.
She did not have the rational mind to wonder why he'd adopted a disguise. Instead, she emitted a tiny squeak that bordered the line between human and animal—a mouse, particularly. And she wasn't sure why, but his grip on her curled inward at the sound.
Ugegbe feared the imprint of his fist would be dented on her bare skin if she dared watch for it later on. Strangely, she did not mind the thought. She was rather enthralled by the notion of being marked by him. Of finding reminders of how he'd held her with a fearsome possessiveness.
"Are you hurt?" He pulled away to inspect the rest of her body, and Ugegbe nearly whimpered at the loss of his skin's warmth. She wanted to cling to him and beg that he never let her go. But that was impossible. She had no right to. None at all. So she sucked air through her mouth and berated her body for being so greedy.
"I-I'm fine, Onochie." She replied after she'd regained the ability to talk. "Do not worry yourself because of me."
"Why shall I not?" He asked, as his fingers crept up to her neck, inching up slowly in a line that warmed and burned like fire. "He gave you a bruise." His voice was nearly unrecognisable with the dark fury that surged behind each word.
Ugegbe's chest rose and fell faster with shallower bursts of breath when he tilted her chin upward to get a better view of what Ifediaso had done.
"It d-doesn't h-hurt." She stammered, attempting to melt the icy rage that hardened in Onochie. Another feathery swipe of his fingers was a liquid flame that almost sent her over the edge. Ugegbe was keenly aware of how her body bent and curved to his touch, plants hungry and in search of sunlight.
In a terrible tone that scattered sparks down her spine, Onochie vowed, "I shall kill that fool with my hands." This was the second time he'd spoken about murder without so much as exercising decorum while doing so, yet, Ugegbe did not experience any fear festering towards him. When she'd felt his grasp on her throat, she hadn't panicked as she'd done with Ifediaso. She hadn't minded it, in fact.
If one were to blow the gaff while separating the truth from the chaff in this case, it would be revealed that Ugegbe trusted Onochie. Though she could not figure out why it was so. For an unfashionable reason, she wished to rely on and have relations with him more than she did with Kamalu.
This was most bizarre as the chief guard—or commander, as she'd recently learnt—had saved and defended her on countless occasions than Onochie had.
Yet, she harboured no sinful attraction to him. She did not daydream about his sizeable hands caressing her and doing things her father would not approve of. No, Onochie's veiny ones were those which she envisioned time and again. The lust that bubbled within her increased at every meet she had with him. There was a scary probability that it would brim right over someday.
Ugegbe knew she shouldn't be thinking this way. In no less than two days, she would be one of the maidens vying for the king's attention. She would be dressed immaculately to gain the attention of the sovereign of Zoro. Indeed, she would be putting on her best to ensure that the dowager queen's son found her attractive, to his mother's delight.
How could she entertain these sentiments for one man when she dearly wished for another to make her his wife? It was an agonising dilemma. What was she to do with these feelings so deep-rooted in her heart? Where was she to dump them if she was lucky enough to be chosen by the king? How would she manage forgetting about Onochie and everything she bore for him?
She accepted her lot and its misery to admit that it was unlikely she ever would. Not if he continued to hold her this way. She couldn't forget him if the feel of his touch was permanently engraved in her memory. How would she live with her heart beating for a man who was not destined to be hers?
Deciding to be the reasonable one to put a stop to this madness, Ugegbe pushed Onochie away. "Do not bring me misery like this, please." She begged softly. Her eyes stung with salty springs as she gazed at him. "I beg of you, Onochie, do not sway me with your deceit."
"My deceit?" Onochie's voice was low and gruff, a rough rasp that sent a stream of butterflies fluttering in the depths of her stomach. "What do you mean, Ezinwanyi?" He ended the descent of a lone tear down her cheek with a brush of his finger. Ugegbe shrank further away from his reach.
It was hard to decipher why she was in despondent spirits, why she was so blue and inclined to cry. But then the answer supplied itself to her consciousness.
Ugegbe recognised with a most profound bitterness that this was the first time she'd ever wanted anything this sorely. Never had she wished to be loved by anyone as much as she presently did. Never. She only wanted a taste. A single taste of what it would feel like to be loved by someone like him. To be wrapped and cloaked in his affections.
If only...
"Did I not tell you not to speak to me when you see me?"
Onochie did not meet her eye, but his jaw hardened in answer. "You are shoving me aside once again, Ezinwanyi. Once again, you tell me to leave without giving me a chance."
Ugegbe fisted her hand as her frustration incensed in fumes of anger. It was a conundrum as to why she perpetually lost her composure with him.
Swallowing the budding irritation, she questioned calmly. "What chance am I to give you, Onochie? What chance can I give you when you have already warned me that you are in love with another woman? Would I not be a fool to offer you my hand when I know you plan to drop it halfway?
"You tell me, Onochie. For it seems your cognisance of your reality dissolves into nothing whenever you set your eyes on me. You conveniently forget that you are promised to another and come chasing after me. It makes me the pathetic one, unable to keep my wall up and defend myself from your falsehood. I am the idiot who continues to crave what she cannot get while you persistently play with and lead me down a path of treachery." She spat venomously.
It maddened her that for him, she was so willing to lose her inhibitions and throw caution to the wind. There was a piece of her that knew whatever he dared asked of her, she would readily give him. And continue to give and give and give. There was no soul more pitiful than she was.
"Ezinwanyi..." he trailed off, and Ugegbe pondered if what he desired to say was too heavy to unwrap that he was choking on it. That would be fitting for this crossroad they'd found themselves.
"Let us stop this nonsense now that we have no deeper ties with each other. This will be a clean severance of whatever it is we have.
"So then, I beseech you to leave me be, and stay away from me, Onochie. I shall avoid you as I always have, and I pray you will not seek me out as you did today. I am not the woman you need in your life. Just as you are not the man I need in mine."
The king was whom she needed. Becoming queen would turn everything around for good. It would change her status and ensure she never had to suffer. Most of all, she could finally save her father. "I hope we both remember this in the future. We do not belong together. Goodbye, Onochie."
"Wait!" He intercepted her path, stalling her in the process. "Do not leave yet. Please!"
Ugegbe scowled at the hand imposing its will on her. "Why?"
He released her, eventually noticing the disdainful glare stamped on her face. "B-because I have something to confess."
"What would that be?"
"I-I..." he trailed off, an uncanny anxiousness nibbling at him. "I must tell you the truth about who I really am, Ezinwanyi."
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