"Marry me, my lord. Marry me!" Her eyes were earnest, pleading. "You said you love me, so why? Why will you not make me your queen?"

"Ozioma when did I ever tell you I will not marry you?" Onochie let go of her hands and grabbed her by both her shoulders. He made sure that his grasp would not hurt her and was ready to release her if she began to mutter or show any forms of protests. She was too frail and would bruise honestly under the full strength of his hands. And there were very few things he hated more than seeing marks, scratches or wounds on the body of a woman.

This was one of the reasons, ranked only next to his empathy and his desire to taunt the foolish chiefs under his rule, why he prohibited the whipping of any of the servants in his palace. He had done and still did his best to make sure that there was no place for unwarranted beatings in his home; anyone who went against his rules would be dismissed, never to return.

It became so, after deep deliberation and countless changes, that if a servant committed an offence, they were either scolded or had a certain amount of money deducted from their salaries.

Corporal punishments were only allowed and exactly solely when their use could be justified. Onochie would have ordered for the humane treatments of servants and slaves to become a law in all of Zoro, except that he knew it would not be passed due to expected dissent and disagreements from his corrupt officials.

It was to his disadvantage that according to the newest rules of the land—which he'd come to know after almost getting them drilled in his head by the queen mother—in order for a law to be established, more than half of the chiefdom had to voice their consents. The king could force his will through, but then he risked being viewed as a tyrant and eventually hated by his people.

"My lord! You listen not to me." Onochie cringed as she raised her voice, clearly not appreciating the fact that he had zoned out and therefore failed to focus on continuing with what he had been saying. Her face was turning almost as red as a pepper, and Onochie hoped it was from overexerting herself and not because she happened to be angry. A vexed Ozioma was no joke as she was ready to pull down the skies in her wrath.

"I am Oma. I am. I hear your words. All of them, and very clearly."

"Maybe so Your Majesty," Onochie flinched at her use of the title in casual speech. He'd always and did not think there would be a day where he did not hate when she addressed him so formally. It made him feel like he was way above her, on a pedestal which he did not want to be on. "...but you stopped paying attention for a while. Listen to what I have to say!" She shouted a little too loudly, and Onochie frowned deeply.

Being yelled at was not pleasant in any way possible. It brought back unpleasant memories of the past for him and he did not favour being plunged into such darkness without his permission. "Ozioma." He let her name, which was firmly planted on his tongue, take on a sharp, low tone before he rolled it out.

"My–my lord–I–." She stammered, her voice shaky as she spoke. Onochie knew she felt guilty. He'd told her about most of his past after all. And even though he had not disclosed the true and most important details, she knew enough to be clear on his distaste on the matter. "I am terribly sorry my lord. Please Your Majesty, forgive me."

"You are forgiven Oma. I forgave you the instant you realised yourself that you had done a wrong thing." He beamed at her even though there was a turmoil building up internally that mostly was impossible to switch off. He hoped as he suppressed its rise that it would be different in this situation.

The king quietly wished as his head clouded with unpleasant memories, yet only for a split second, that they had never met today. But he quickly stumped out the thoughts. From experience, he had come to know that Ozioma's anger was a hungry fire which burnt everything in its path—often including people and things of great importance to herself. It was one of her ugliest flaws, and she did not have many.

Her habit of suddenly blazing up in the middle of a conversation often unsettled Onochie as well as offset the solid foundation of his fondness for her. He found it highly disturbing that she hardly thought when she was angry. One could even conclude, if they chose to, that she was unable, incapable of bringing herself to process the information around her and eventually come to a logical decision when she was enraged.

Unlike her, Onochie made sure he tried and succeeded in keeping his temper under control. Except for when he was with his chiefs that is. The men deserved every inch of his anger directed at all of them. Apart from when he was in their midst however, there was no need for him to lose his cool. He found the act quite tiring, and he still had not grasped the benefits of throwing an easy fit—if there happened to exist any.

He was fairly sure there wasn't. Countlessly, he'd talked to Ozioma about her quickness to becoming livid. He'd admonished her on how to be more calm and levelheaded. They were a few of the many characteristics a queen needed to survive as a close ally and partner with the king. So far, Ozioma had neither paid heed to his words nor made an attempt to change.

"I am glad my lord. Please do not be offended by my misbehaviour. It shall not happen again. Forgive me."

"It is alright Oma," whatever irritation had previously sprung up inside of him, promptly vanished into thin air at her beautiful face pleading so sincerely with him. He wanted her to be happy always, and keeping enmity with her caused her sadness which was the exact opposite of his intentions. "I have forgiven you. So please do not be sad."

"I am not my lord. I am happy instead. Very happy to be by your side. I am glad you love me Your Majesty."

"So am I Oma. But you know you are not bound to continue referring to me as—"

"Please let me finish first my lord."

Onochie felt chastised, but he agreed to her request. "Of course. Go ahead Oma."

"I am so thankful that I am the woman by your side. You are the greatest man in this kingdom. You are a king above all other kings. You deserve that praise be ascribed to you. Thou art a fair ruler, one fitting of the crown of Zoro. I am nothing compared to you my lord."

Her words troubled him instead of offering him any comfort. He did not want to be praised. He did not need the praise, especially if the woman he loved had to put down herself in order to do so. "Oma you do not have to say all these..."

"No my king. Please let me speak your praises. Let me exalt and shower all my awes on you. There is absolutely nothing any human, including I, could ever do that will make an equal to you, the glorious Sun of Zoro. You shine so brightly in all your ways Your Majesty. Your bravery and strength make those who are against you tremble and cower at your feet. You are the most perfect man to exist my lord." She grinned triumphantly at him as if she had just achieved a great feat.

"Thank you Oma. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Thank you for your kind words my dear." He appreciated her eulogies and pulled her into a warm embrace. But his heart did not at all agree with what he had professed. He did not want to thank her. In short, he desiderated the case where she would never praise him again.

He was not perfect. He was neither brave nor did he have the strength she boasted of on his behalf. What would be her reaction if she knew that he sometimes shed lonely tears in the shelters of his room when he missed his late father? Would she still accept him if she discovered that he was not as much a man as she thought he was? Would she still deem him perfect if she found out how undependable, nescient and unsophisticated he sometimes was?

Would she still love him the same if she saw his true self and finally realised that all he was to her was completely a lie? That it was all a facade. A total charade. Would she?

While he squeezed her in his arms, he could not help but wonder why did she not want to be his equal? Was there anything wrong if she was so? She was to be his wife after all. Not his slave. She would not be sweeping his floors or performing menial jobs as his queen. He would never let her suffer or worry for anything. What would he have to do to demand that she be on an equal footing with him? For he knew, as usual, that nothing he said could change Ozioma's perspective.

He would just have to show her. Yes, that was exactly it. It was exactly what he needed to do. And he would start first by giving her what she had requested of him before. He'd wanted to save the present until later as a surprise, but he could always arrange something else.

Money and resources to prepare such were not much of a problem for Onochie. As a king, he got the choicest portions of all that his kingdom had to offer, which ranged from bags of cowries to intricately woven clothes and down to tasty, abundant victuals. His privileges sometimes discomfited him.

A burden of guilt hunched his shoulders when he walked through the market square with his mighty processions on soft evenings. Then, he could see how terribly his people were suffering. In those moments, he was mortified to think of his warm, spacious bed awaiting him and the hot soup and satisfying akpu ever ready for his consumption as soon as he gave the command. He wished he wasn't king then.

He wished he wasn't given so many opportunities yet with so many barriers. Yes, he was blessed with more money than the average man. But the fact was that most of it went to the upkeep of his palace. He made sure his servants were paid fairly and that their wages were in full. The rest of the money he had left to spend for himself were, by one of the recent laws passed in Zoro, recorded and a list of all his spendings drafted by his head-stewardess then sent to the committee of chiefs for a review and crosschecking.

A thousand times would be an understatement as to how often Onochie had tried to change the law he thought to be stupid and only serving the purpose of restricting his freedom as a king. The chiefs obviously knew so, as that was the only plausible reason he could come up with as to why they had all colluded with one another to make the law a part of the governing of Zoro years before Onochie was old enough to take over the throne.

By the ancestors, Onochie would force a change to all the rules that did not benefit his people. How he would do that however, he had not yet figured out. What he had totalised though was the exact spot he previously hid the surprise.

"Oma close your eyes. I have something for you."

"Really my lord?" Her voice rose up a notch in excitement and he smiled sillily at her. The way she lit up with happiness when he pleased her thrilled Onochie so much that he might have been walking on air. His joy was palpable.

"Yes. Wait here," he instructed, backing away from her. "I will be right back."

The cloth bag was right where he had kept it earlier in the day—under a round stone which although fairly huge, was the perfect size to hide a gift. He retrieved it with controlled glee. "Here it is Oma. You can open your eyes now." He directed and she received the bag hurriedly, almost snatching it from his palms, while he stood and waited patiently for her to view what he had to give.

"Oh." Onochie thought he saw her face fall under the bright moonlight as she lifted out the cotton wrapper dyed in the latest designs for women. He had investigated properly to be certain that he had the right styling of the fabric in his hands. Was it not to her taste? Did she not like it?

"Do you not like it Oma?"

"No my king!" A brilliant smile worked the corners of her lips, and he dared to hope that it was not faked. "I truly adore your gift. Thank you."

"That is not all. Check in the bag. There is something more."

A tiny squeak escaped from her and Onochie nodded in satisfaction. He knew indisputably that he did not make a mistake by adding in the necklaces at the last minute.

"It is unbelievable Your Majesty!" She did a little twirl and a quick dance. "You got me the most expensive coral beads. The ones worn by royals from the palace. Thank you so much your highness! Thank you. Thank you!" She babbled then flung herself at him, almost knocking him down as she leapt in utmost jouissance.

"You are welcome Oma. This is just to remind you that you are the woman I want to make my wife when the time is right." She nodded passionately in agreeance. It seemed like the doubts she once harboured had dissolved into weightless foams and bubbles.

"I believe you Your Majesty."

"That is good."

"Mhm." She murmured, notably absentminded as her hands fiddled with all that they held.

"Well, I think you should begin on your way home Oma." Being the only man around who should make sure harm did not befall his woman, Onochie assumed the responsibility of deciding it was time they called it a night. "It is indeed very late now."

"Of course my lord. Do not worry about me. I left another of my lamps at the other entrance over there." She pointed at pitch blackness. Onochie could not see anything but he trusted her and knew he did not need to be anxious about her safety. She had made it clear, times enough, that she neither needed an escort nor a non-escort to accompany or fret over her in her absence. He'd let her be since then.

"I love you Oma."

"I know my lord. Goodnight."

Immediately she was gone, a shallow unnoticeable ache in Onochie's head spiked up, eliciting a pained groan at its intensity. He just as quickly missed her presence and wished she was still with him. There would have been no time to bother about any pains or ache if she were by his side.

Notwithstanding, he forced himself to pull out of his feelings and past his desires. He needed to be home now in order to put the queen mother's heart at rest. As he ventured out of the haunt however, the sound of a cutlass chopping into wood caught his attention.

"Who goes there?"

"Your Majesty, it is I." A familiar figure that he easily recognised crouched before Onochie. "Greetings!"

"Not you again..." he sighed as if exhausted to the very bones.

"I am at your service Your Majesty."

"Who asked for your service?" Onochie questioned then rolled his eyes as the man arose without an official order to do so. "You follow me everywhere. I cannot even have a single moment of privacy!"

"My service is to you my king. You will always have my undivided loyalty as your guard. Therefore, I will always be by your side."

"You are my chief guard not my shadow or wife Kamalu."

"I–I–I know that Your Majesty." Kamalu flustered and Onochie watched amusedly as the top half of his face which was demarcated by a fair mark since his birth turned a tender, bright hue. To the king, it was completely mind-boggling how a man famous for his infinite victories in battling matches and of course, for being the strongest human alive in the village, could be ruffled in such an uncomplicated and effortless manner. It was almost ludicrous.

"Be at ease Kamalu. You do not need to be so bothered. It is virtually laughable that you react like a child. I joked. Nothing more."

"Of course Your Majesty." He was still the shade of the insides of a pawpaw.

"What say you Kamalu?" Onochie started as they stumbled underneath the wooden gate, then made for the bush thicket ahead in their way which they would have to hop over.

"About what my king?" Kamalu replied the instant it appeared he was stable on his feet.

Onochie steadied himself then shook his head at the guard who now had his hand stretched out. He did not need any help to regain his balance as he was used to the entire rigours of the journey. After all, this was not the first nor second time he was leaving the Lovers' Lair at so late a night.

When was the first time they even met at the hideout? He had begun to ruminate on past memories when Kamalu cleared his throat. "As you were Your Majesty." The man's deep voice boomed loudly and Onochie stopped to tsk at how discomposing it occasionally was to hear him speak at a volume higher than a whisper. There was no doubt that he owed the cavernous voicebox to his exceedingly more than average height. Even now, he towered over his master who by many standards was nothing close to a dwarf. "As you were Your Majesty."

"Ah yes. I lost myself for a while."

"Hm." He was not a man of many words, that the king knew. In all honesty, that was one of his likeable attributes as it made him all the more a worthwhile companion—specifically after a long day of listening to a particular bevy of babbling idiots. The interminable chatter often was victorious in sapping the life out of Onochie by the end of the decade-long meetings.

"What I was to ask Kamalu is 'what kind of a woman would you want for yourself?'" The question was an innocent inquiry on Onochie's end. He had no wicked ulterior motives as he did want to know what happened to be the opinion of his only male companion. He had his already, but he needed someone else's to compare against.

"First, I would like a woman who would love me and accept me for who I am. I do not want a woman who will be scared of me, or blame the discolouration my face has had since the day I was born on a curse from the gods." The look on Kamalu's face was solemn, almost sad, and it made Onochie wish terribly that he had not posed his question.

"Kamalu..."

"Do not feel pity for me, my king. I do not desire sympathy. Know that I am not a man to blame fate for my fortune. And I do believe that I am not cursed." A smile wormed its way unto tired lips. "Returning back to my answer, that is only one thing I want. Another is that I would want a woman with a beautiful heart. If she is beautiful on the outside, then that is a plus for me. I want her to believe in me, like I will in her. And know me like I will make sure I know every inch of her. In other words, I want a woman who will know me without any pretences. Only then can our love be true."

"Chai! I did not know you were such a romantic man Kamalu." Onochie teased lightheartedly. But in reality, his head was reeling.

Kamalu pulled on a thoughtful expression, but Onochie did not notice it or anything else as he was buried fathoms deep beneath his problems. "I never thought I could be of the sort either. Ha! Of all thoughts! Why did you ask such Your Majesty?" The king did not utter a word in response. "Your Majesty?"

"Ah yes! What did you say?"

"What troubles you my king? It is the woman, is it not?"

"How did you know?" Onochie regarded his guard with round eyes.

"There is often not much which troubles a man so than a woman. They are indeed the loveliest creatures to exist in this world. It is for that reason and more that it is easy to lose oneself when it comes to them."

Onochie nodded in concord, even though Kamalu had misinterpreted his disquietude for a different matter altogether. He was not troubled by his woman. No! Far be it from him to set up that confusion, in spite of the actuality that he already had. Well, at least he could admit the truth to himself. For the cause of his worry was not Ozioma, but rather himself. Kamalu had opened his eyes to the truth that a woman being in love with a man's feigned self was an issue worth agonising and dwelling on.

"I think you should be more careful with her Your Majesty."

And with myself. Onochie thought.
•
A/N: What do you loves think about this chapter? Side note: I actually really like Kamalu. He's so cuteXD