by Owen Oakley
“Please, ave a seat. Bayo and I ave a couple things to discozs with you,” King Muto told her.
Adanya sat down, her eyes shifted between the men. The way they eyed each other and refused to look at her made her stomach flop. She straightened in her chair, but something was displaced in the room and weighed on her displayed confidence.
“Fisst thing’s fisst. What news did King Omawi’s messenga bwing?” King Muto asked bracing himself for the worse.
Adanya sunk into her seat. She placed her Katana blades on her father’s desk. She’d forgotten how much he disliked improper behavior until he shot her an annoyed glare, and she removed them to the floor.
“Omawi wequested two thoozand soldias fo battle with Wam.” The two men exchanged looks of curiosity.
“What does the battle concign?” Bayo asked.
“They both want to pa’chase the same land,” she said.
King Muto pitched the bridge of his nose.
“We know you denied is wequest, but e looked unozually upset. What else did you say to im?”
Adanya tried to feign innocence, but the expression on both men faces suggested she had failed. The last thing Muto needed was a war on his hands motivated by insults.
“Okay, okay.”
Adanya filled them in on what she told the messenger, with some reluctance she even told them about the joke she made. Bayo sniffled a laugh, but his daughter’s behavior frustrated King Muto, although he had grown used to; it didn’t excuse her rudeness to an official.
“Adanya,” he said in only a way he could speak her name.
“This is disheawtening. A simple no would ave sufficed. That was wude and yoa actions weflects bagk on all of us.”
She dropped her head. There was no point in looking at him, she could feel his eyes shooting daggers her way.
All of her life she had done nothing more than try to prove to her father that he had prepared her for the throne.
Muto fell back into his chair. Her ankles tightened around each other underneath the chair.
I hate this, get on with it, she thought to herself.
Bayo’s lips were pursed together, Adanya thought he was about to say something; anything, but he remained quiet, and silence overtook the room.
He cleared his throat confident that no one else would say anything.
“Yoa fatha and I wa’ discozsing yoa futa’ ascension.”
Bayo hated uncomfortable situations, as the king’s advisor, it was one of his many duties.
Adanya’s eyes shone bright and flashed a small smile.
The men didn’t return the gesture. She had seen those looks; her world would shatter into pieces.
Those looks meant I’m sorry, but we have to do it.
“We think being Queen wouldn’t be in yoa best inta’st,” Bayo said struggling the words out.
Adanya stood up, antsy and nervous. The blood surged to her head, and she threatened to faint.
A sharp pain hit the pit of her stomach. The back of her head throbbed; her assumptions were correct⸺ the postponements, failure to prepare for the tour, and ceremony. The room went bright, and she reached to grab the table to steady herself.
Bayo shifted forward in his seat. When Adanya knees buckled, he rushed to her side, but she shooed him away.
“Stay back!”
Bayo stepped back and lifted his hands in mock surrender.
“False ope,” she whispered to herself.
She closed her eyes for a moment and drew in strength with each breath. Her light chestnut eyes took on a darker hue.
She centered herself in the spinning room; her armor now heavier and hotter than before. One question tugged at her mind, the only thing she could ask.
“Why?”
King Muto always believed his daughter had a flair for the dramatics, but he could tell this wasn’t one of those times.
“Tha awe many weasons we chose not to allow you to ascend. Adanya, I ave no doubt about yoa capabilities as a queen, but not as Lawk’s Queen.”
Adanya stared, and his intentions were clear.
“You want me to mawwy a king?”
“Yes, but not jozt any king; one that as shown pwomise and full of potential.”
Potential? She knew what that meant, a jerk who wanted multiple women, and for her to be submissive. Adanya’s heart plummeted to her stomach, and her face went pale.
“Who?” She asked.
“We awe still so’ting out the details. We’ll let you know next week when it’s complete,” Muto said.
She couldn’t believe he’d arrange a marriage.
Adanya’s parents met and fell in love with no help or interference from anyone. They also taught their children that love should come naturally because it was a lifelong commitment.
It was clear that things had changed.
Thoughts flooded her mind. It worried her, not only for herself but for Lark’s future.
“Who will ascend?”
King Muto looked to Bayo who nodded.
“Kwame,” King Muto announced.
Adanya was in a nightmare. She had two younger brothers; Prince Kwame the second born, and Prince Kofi the youngest.
The throne would suit them both ill, but if Adanya had a choice, it would not be Kwame. Kwame was lazy and had made no contributions to the kingdom since he entered the world.
Awful, she thought. The kingdom would fall to ruin under her brother’s reign.
“This is outwageous! You lied about ev’ything you told me!”
The outside guards flung open the doors with their weapons in hand. Adanya was their leader but their loyalty lied with their king, and they would protect him from anyone, even if it meant going against her. Muto signaled them to stand down.
“We’we okay, my daughta’ is a little upset.”
Even though they took his word, one guard remained in the room.
“I’m so’wy, but it as to be this way. I know ow much this meant to you but think of the powa’ it will give us. By mawwying into anotha kingdom allows us access to mo wesoa’ces, solidas, and money. Ev’yone’s standing will incwease including that of Lawk’s.”
She looked at her father in disbelief; he was trying to justify his deceit and conspiracy against her.
Heat rolled off Adanya’s body and her fist tighten.
“So that’s all yoa daughta’ is wo’th to you, a token fo mo powa? Money? Wesoa’ces? Don’t my appiness mean anything?”
Muto took his daughter’s hand and leveled himself with her, determined to make her understand.
“No, it doesn’t. Not yoa appiness, my own, yoa motha’s, o’ yoa bworthas. We do what’s best fo oa’ kingdom. You will still be what you want to be by mawwying this king,” he stressed to her.
Adanya stepped back from her father, shaking her head. If she married this person, it would be against everything she believed and held true.
“My effo’ts ave neva been enough fo you. Kwame is weaping the benefits fo my awd wo’k and sagwifices.”
She took a deep breath and steadied herself.
“You stwung me alone all this time, you oze me fo yoa pessonal gain. I don’t ave to mawwy this king o’ any otha king; I was bo’n a Queen as all women awe. The wightful Queen of Lawk and the eldest child of King Muto.”
Muto clenched his teeth, the sympathy in his eyes and heart made it hard, but he demanded respect regardless of the situation.
“Ow da’e you speak with such defiance?”
He signaled for Bayo to stand next to him.
“As the King of Lawk, I he’eby welinquish you as Gen’al of the Lawk’s Militarwy Fo’ces.”
Bayo stepped forward with a grim expression and removed her stripes. It was cruel; the thing she loved and gave her purpose, he so eagerly took away.
“You awe set to mawwy in thwee weeks, faila’ to do so will wesult in banishment fwom Lawk and yoa title as Pwincess will cawwy no meaning thwoughout the lands.”
Tears glistened in Adanya�
��s eyes, careful not to blink, she prayed they dried before reaching her cheeks.
It was saddening because everyone knew her to be a brave and fierce warrior, but Muto had done what no other soldier in battle could ever do to her⸺ he broke her.
⸞⸟⸞
The following days were hard for Adanya. She spent most of her days locked in her room. After the much-needed alone time, she emerged from her room.
She wondered the halls just to surround herself with something other than the four walls she had stared at for days.
It was a happy coincidence when she ran into Bayo in front of his room. She planned to ignore everyone, but after she saw his face, she wanted answers for her father’s decision.
He was with a soldier when he saw an expected Adanya approaching towards him.
After the soldier left, Bayo led her inside. There was a book-shelf filled with books of literature both domestic and foreign. Adanya searched to find any new books in his collection. When time permitted her, she read the ones he recommended.
Bayo was an intelligent man, he spoke five languages; her father wanted him to become an ambassador, but he enjoyed giving his close friend advice rather than foreign affairs.
They both sat in silence neither one knew what to say, Adanya crossed her legs and stared at Bayo, who drummed his fingers against his knee. Bayo dreaded the moment long before Muto announced it his decision.
“I know you’we upset,” Bayo said the only words he could form.
“As a wula’ yoa fatha mozt makes many awd decisions. I’ don’t envy im. You’ll see the pwessa’s of wunning a kingdom soon.”
Adanya’s brow wrinkled as she glared at him.
“No, I will neva get the chance; you and my fatha made damn sa’ of that.”
He was prepared to take Adanya’s lashes. Bayo didn’t argue about the way Muto handled the situation, but he understood his reason for his decision.
He watched as an array of emotions filled her eyes.
“When did e make this decision?” She inquired. Bayo remained quiet, afraid of her reaction to his answer.
“Days afta’ e told you, you would ascend.”
A twisted smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“That was ova a year ago; we’ve talked about pwepawations fo me since then.
She let out a bitter laugh, mixed with sobs she’d held in for many days. Bayo had seen her cry only once; when Muto told her, she couldn’t join the militia. For her to shed tears later in age, meant she was devastated.
Bayo stood and shook his head, unaware that Muto kept her believing she would ascend. He wanted to comfort her but realized her hand gripped the hilt of her sword.
“My fatha is who e is, but you⸺.”
Her frown sent chills over his body; he shifted from one foot to the other, uncertain of any words that would better the situation.
“Ow could you not mention this soona’? I’ve looked like a fool this ente’ time becoaze you thought nothing of me to let me know.”
She narrowed her eyes. Bayo rubbed the back of his neck.
“You should undesstand my position betta by now Adanya. If the king fo’bids me to say anything, as is adviso’ I cannot speak of such things,” he explained.
It always led back to position. They considered loyalty a job not a responsibility even for those they loved. The king came first, and they divided the rest among everyone else.
Adanya unmoving turned a deaf ear to Bayo’s honest words.
“I do undesstand yoa position, always ave, but you could ave convinced im to tell me soona’. Tha wa’ ways, you jozt wefused to use them.”
Bayo threw up his arms. Once Adanya felt a certain way, there was no changing her mind.
“Tha’s nothing mo I can say or do that will elp and change Muto’s mind. It’s up to you to decide.”
Adanya sniffled and dried her eyes with her sleeve. There was nothing more left to say.
⸞⸟⸞
Adanya hoped her soldiers would take the news in stride, she decided that it would be better if they heard it from her.
Lark’s militia was twenty thousand strong, so she never talked to them all at once, but rather established a smaller group of twenty soldiers based on sonority and rank, who later relayed the news to the others.
They stood when she entered the room where they held their meetings; it was a conference room although a little less formal.
She gestured to the soldiers to take their seats. She hadn’t figured out how she would tell them because she hadn’t processed it all herself.
The one thing that upset her the most she had to do to her soldiers with no warning.
The men fidgeted in their seats with their gaze on Adanya. Their eyes were wide, throats cleared throughout the room.
“I called this meeting to infowm you that as of a week ago I am no longa’ yoa Gen’al.”
Adanya refused to make eye contact with any of them. She’d survived up until that moment by sending word she was sick, a plausible excuse that kept her men at bay and bought her more time before facing them.
“Why?” One soldier asked.
“My fatha as otha plans fo me. I won’t be yoa Gen’al no’ will I be the next wula’ of Lawk.”
The soldiers erupted into shouts, and some swore every word in the book. Their complaints were so loud Adanya couldn’t hear herself think. She tried to settle them down, but it was to no avail.
Adanya was family to the men; the only family that some had known.
A pain shot through her head; she pressed the sides of her temples to offer relief.
“I know this is difficult to eaw, but it’s out of my control.” Her voice elevated to catch the riled soldiers’ attention.
The men calmed down, realizing the decision was finalized.
“Whomeva’ as the gweatest numba’ of su’vive yeaws and highest wank will be yoa new Gen’al.”
All eyes settled on a middle-aged gentleman at the table with folded arms, who shook his head.
“I decline.”
Adanya leaned into the table and narrowed her eyes at the soldier.
“Femi, you ave no otha choice. I’m telling you. You awe the new Gen’al,” she said. Her sternness silenced any further objection.
Everyone took in the news. Adanya saw the hurt on their faces, but her father tied her hands.
In their eyes, she was in control, there was not a hint of anger, and she even had a small smile. That’s the way she wanted it; she couldn’t allow her soldiers to see a woman who tried to expel all of her stomach’s content, to break down and tears and tell them how unfair her father was. She had to remain strong, unbothered even if it was a shitty deal.
“Finish strong,” she said to herself.
Before the urge to cry formed, she left the room. There were still many soldiers to tell, and she imagined they would react the same.
Adanya was halfway through the worst. She hoped things got easier, but something told her it would only get harder.
Chapter Three
“Fatha!” Salim arrived back to Iyego, thrilled to be home but his thoughts were of Adanya and the last words he spoke to her.
His delivery wasn’t optimal, but his remarks remained true, the last thing he wanted was to hurt her.
He hoped his father could provide him with advice.
“My son. Ow was yoa joa’ney to Lawk?” King Sahem hugged his son before he was inside and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.
“Eventful, as always with Adanya,” His cheeks heated and a sly smile spread across his face at the mention of her name.
King Sahem recognized his son’s feelings toward his childhood friend long before Salim discovered them himself. He’d encouraged Salim to share his opinions with Adanya, but it never happened.
He took in his son’s appearance; Sahem tilted his head. Sahem gave him a knowing eye that only a parent could.
“What’s on yoa mind son?”
Salim took a seat by the
bar and rubbed his face.
The pressures of his ascension weighed heavy on him. Doubt set in, but he had no alternative, he was his parents only child. He had become of age, and his father was older and needed a break from his thirty-five years of ruling.
“Adanya, my ascension, unce’tainty, feaw. You mention it, it’s tha,” Salim said.
Sahem sat next to his boy and smiled.
“I’ve exp’ienced what you’we going thwough, but you awe a nat’al leada. You ave the eawt of a king. Ask God to wemove those ambiguities, tha isn’t a place fo it as king.”
Salim admired his father, such a modest man, faithful to his people. His father was his blueprint, he showed courage, gave him the direction to follow, which is why it frightened him; the thought of his father’s shoes being filled would prove to be a lot.
“Adanya? Ave you told ha yet?” His father asked.
Salim sighed and wring his hands together.
“I ave not.”
Sahem gave him a skeptical glimpse of bewilderment. His son’s expression told him everything.
“You ave to tell ha it’s only wight.”
“It’s awd to expwess such things. I’m not always good with my wo’ds. I’ve alweady pwoven it,” Salim said.
King Sahem gave him a pat on the back. He only offered sympathy because the decision was his son’s.
Salim wanted his father to tell him what to do, how to solve his problem; but Sahem sat beside him in silence. It was Salim’s first unofficial lesson as a king.
⸞⸟⸞
The day Adanya dreaded had arrived, she was to discover who she would spend her life with as queen of a different kingdom.
Her best friend Imani helped her prepare to satisfy the king she’d wed, and after that, she would declare their marriage alongside her prospective husband.
Adanya hadn’t seen her father since he told her his plan. Imani understood and helped her in silence.
Adanya and Imani had been best friends since they were young adolescents; much like her and Salim. Imani’s village was an unsafe place for young girls and women without husbands.