Men of Valor, Books 1

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Men of Valor, Books 1 Page 14

by Kiru Taye


  "Yes." She nodded. She lowered her lashes to shield her eyes, afraid he would see the truth in them as her body quivered with the thought of feeling his skin against hers.

  She felt his warm smooth hand under her chin, lifting it till she had to look into his eyes.

  "Then you need not fear. I have never forced a woman into my bed. I'll not start with you." He paused before continuing. "I want to look into your eyes when you talk to me. And you should always speak you mind. Can you do that for me?"

  "Yes, my prince." Her voice was barely above a hoarse whisper as she struggled to speak.

  Having his hand on her flesh started a fire on her skin that burned all the way down to her belly. The temptation to lean into his hand, to have it brand her grew to a frightening level. His thumb played an arrhythmic beat on her chin and the will to withdraw from his touch left her.

  He pulled back his hand and clapped them together to summon the guard at the door.

  "Get someone to clear the table," Emeka said when the man came into the room. The man walked out, and a few minutes later, two servants came in and cleared the dishes from the table.

  Usually at this point, Ezinne would help to clear the table while the prince and princess retired to their lounging chairs for the evening. Tonight, Emeka stayed seated at the table until it was cleared. When the servants left the room, he turned to Ezinne.

  "Let us make a new arrangement,” he said. “For the next few weeks, all I ask of you is that you share the evening meal with me. During the day, you can do whatever pleases you. Take up whatever activity you wish to pass the time. Learn a new craft if you like. You can learn to weave cloth or baskets. You can learn to paint or sculpt. We have the best master trainers in this palace who will teach you whatever you wish to learn. Simply tell them you were sent by me. In the evenings you will join me for the meal so that I can have someone to converse with. After that you can go to sleep in your own bed. Is that agreeable with you?"

  Her mouth was agape for a moment as she processed the prince's words. She couldn't believe what she'd heard. No one had ever offered her such a lifeline. An opportunity to learn a skill she could use outside the palace. Something she had always yearned for. She almost leaped out of her seat with gladness. In Umulari she hadn’t been allowed to learn any skills outside of those required to do her job.

  "Really? You would let me learn a new skill?" she asked, her tone hesitant, unsure if she'd heard correctly.

  "Of course. It is my way of making up for the inconvenience of my company until your mistress returns. As I said already, everyone is compensated for their work. As your work is to keep me company, learning a new craft is your compensation. So, is it agreeable?"

  "Absolutely agreeable, my prince." She couldn't help the smile spreading on her face. Overjoyed with finally getting an opportunity that could get her out of her mistress's hold, she stood up and hugged Emeka, tears clouding her eyes. "Thank you. You don't know what that means to me."

  "It's not a problem," he said, patting her shoulders, his gentle touch stimulating.

  Realizing what she'd done, she withdrew at once. "I'm sorry, my prince," she said and knelt down to beg his forgiveness for touching him without invitation.

  "Stand up, Ezinne. Don't be afraid. You are allowed to touch me. After all you are my companion."

  She breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't used the other word he had used earlier. Standing up, she thanked him again.

  "And another thing, since we've come to a truce, I'll request that you use my given name when we are in private. Can you do that?"

  She hesitated but thought that since he'd been generous enough with her the least she could do is carry out his request.

  "Yes, my pr—Emeka."

  He smiled at her. Her heart leaped with joy at the beauty of his smile, his cheeks sinking into dimples. He stood and walked over to his lounging chair. She waited by the table unsure of what he wanted her to do next.

  "Thank you for your time this evening. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow," he said when he sat down.

  "Wh-what about your massage?" she muttered, remembering Nonye always gave him a massage every night.

  "I don't think that's a good idea under the circumstances. Tomorrow I'll arrange for the palace masseuse to do it until Nonye returns. You can go. Good night."

  "Thank you. Good night." She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. The dressing up and decoration she'd gone through to be transformed from servant to seductress hadn't worked. The prince didn't desire her at all. He no more wanted her in his bed than she wanted to be there.

  Still, she knew that was a lie. Her mind might not want him, but her body clearly did. The sensations he'd invoked within her matched no other she'd experienced in the past. While she might not have Nonye's adept knowledge, she certainly knew what it felt like to yearn for a man. Her longing would never be fulfilled so there was no point dwelling on it.

  Giving him one last quick glance, she walked out of his quarters, guilt washing over her. Somehow she didn't think it fair that all she got to do in the new arrangement was sit down to dinner with him while he was rewarding her with something so important: her dignity and self-esteem.

  The evening had not gone the way she'd anticipated. In truth she still wasn't sure what to make of the prince. There had to be a trap somewhere, and she knew it would hit her sooner or later.

  In the meantime she planned to make the most of the opportunity before her. Learn a craft she could use so that when she decided it was time to move on from Nonye, she would have something to fall back on. The future suddenly seemed like something to look forward to.

  Chapter Five

  "So how is your training going?" Emeka asked as they sat down for dinner four days later. Ezinne sat in the chair next to him.

  The prince had kept to his word and informed the master trainers of her wish to learn a craft. She had chosen fabric weaving. The intricacies of making fabrics had always fascinated her. Though it was a male-dominated skill, Emeka had given the master trainer permission to train her.

  "It is slow going at the moment. But the teacher is a very patient man. I'm grateful for his fortitude," she replied.

  "Well, he told me you were doing well," Emeka said in between chewing his food.

  "He did? You asked him?"

  She was surprised that the prince would take time out to inquire about her progress. Another new thing she was learning about him. He took a keen personal interest in the people around him regardless of their station in life.

  "Yes, I did. So many things about you fascinate me. I also wanted to make sure he wasn't being too hard on you."

  Did I just hear him right?

  "My prince, there is nothing fascinating about me. Your time is surely better spent on matters of state." In reflex, she lowered her gaze to the table. Many years of being told she was nothing and no one of interest had been ingrained into her being.

  "What now?” he asked sternly. “Are you trying to raise my ire this evening?"

  Worried, she looked up and met his gaze, wondering what she’d done wrong. She realized he was feigning anger when his onyx eyes sparkled with laughter.

  "No, my prince."

  "Then look at me and stop this 'my prince' refrain. I thought we've already agreed you will always call me Emeka when we are in private."

  "Yes… Emeka." She rolled his name on her tongue as she said it. It still felt strange referring to him by his given name even after four days.

  "That's better."

  He took her hand in his. His touch was soft, encompassing as he folded her hand into his large ones. Still, she felt the edges of roughness in there too—the hands of a prince who worked with his hands as well as his mind.

  The spark of warmth generated spread tingles through her body. They hadn't had any physical contact since the first night at dinner. In that time, she had yearned to feel his skin against hers again. She prayed he would touch her.

 
Spending time with him every evening was turning out to be the highlight of her day regardless. But now that he'd touched her, the caress wonderful, a warm glow surrounded her. She felt connected to him and not just physically. It was as if she was meant to be here with him every night, talking about politics or whatever else pleased him.

  "Ezinne, you are a beautiful woman."

  She looked up at him. His black eyes glimmered with sincerity, she couldn't believe his words. Everyone else thought she was ugly, so he couldn't possibly be right.

  "I'll have to disagree with you on that. I'm not beautiful. I don't have the grace or poise that my mistress has. She is beautiful," Ezinne said with confidence.

  Emeka brief chuckle rumbled through her. She loved hearing him laugh, especially the way his eyes sparkled in the light. It always put a smile on her face.

  "It makes you even more beautiful, that you don't know how beautiful you are,” he said in a light tone. “I have observed you the last few days. I noticed the way the men around the palace stare at you each time you walk by. They would all like to claim you."

  She shook her head, not believing what he was saying. He didn't find her attractive even after all the efforts she made daily on her appearance.

  "It's true. You are also intelligent and naturally gifted.”

  “Now you jest.”

  “I do not,” he answered, his voice hard and somber. “The trainer informs me you have been making suggestions of how to mix the threads to create new fabric textures. And this is only after a few days of learning. I already know that you are strong-willed. No one can bend you to their will unless you allow it. All these things make you very fascinating. I want to find out so much more about you. However, it seems you don't like talking about yourself."

  He was correct. She never talked about her life or her past to anyone. The mere thought of her existence made her feel low and dejected. The least said the better.

  "There isn't much to say. My life isn't as interesting as yours," she replied.

  "But I want to know about you, your parents, what you were like as a child," Emeka insisted.

  "I don't have parents. My mother raised me, but she died a few years ago. I had a reasonable childhood. Some would say it was even privileged because I lived in the palace servant quarters and got to play with the princess," she said with haste, hoping to end any further discussion.

  "So you and Nonye grew up together?"

  She sighed in resignation. It seemed Emeka was not ready to take a hint. Maybe it was better to talk about it now and get it done with. But there were matters even she couldn't talk about, regardless of how much he probed. Dark troubles locked in the recesses of her mind and best kept hidden away.

  "Yes. At one point we were the best of friends, always playing together," she said, focusing on the lighter subject.

  "So what happened?"

  "When her mother, the queen, died, the king decreed that the slaves should be kept away from the main palace residence. That meant I wasn't allowed to go to see her anymore."

  "Didn't she come to see you?"

  "She did a few times, but her father found out and banned her outright,” she said in a nonchalant tone to keep the cheerlessness out of her voice. However, misery sat heavy in her belly like a boulder.

  “I was punished for daring to play with the princess. He told her she had to focus on learning how to be a princess, that slaves would taint her. By then I was learning to serve as a handmaiden. When she became of age, I became her servant."

  "I'm saddened that you experienced all that. It's the kind of practices that my father has worked to stamp out in Umunri. It hasn't been easy, but I think we are finally there." Emeka’s smile was tinged with gloom, his eyes lost their spark. He stopped eating and washed his hands.

  "You see, that's why I don't like talking about my life. It is depressing," she said as she washed her hands as well. She'd lost her appetite.

  "I know what you mean, but sometimes we need to say the words out loud to someone else so that they don’t depress us to the point of the grave," he said, leaning back into his chair.

  "But for some people, the grave is a more appealing prospect than the life they lead."

  Abruptly, he sat up with a frown marring his face. "Don't say that. I hope you're not referring to yourself." He moved his hand to cup her face, his palm under her chin. "Promise me you're not thinking of taking your own life."

  "No." Her smile was weak as she fought the tears building within her. There had been times when she'd thought death would be better but not anymore. "I have no wish to end my life."

  Shrugging to hide the wretchedness wrapping its cold fingers around her body, she tried to move her head, but he held it still. She closed her eyes to stop the tears, but they broke through her lashes dropping onto her cheeks.

  Emeka's warm breath fanned her cheek before she felt the light brush of his thumb and fingers wiping her tears away. His touch was comforting. Stimulating. Tingles like sparks of fire spread from her cheeks to pool in her belly. She opened her eyes and looked into his. His dark eyes shone with warmth and compassion.

  "No more tears, Ezinne. The past is gone. It can't hurt you anymore, I promise," he said, his voice low and gruff, full of emotion.

  She nodded, grateful for his kind words. The fondness and warmth in her heart bloomed fully. Her core ached for this man—this prince, the most wonderful man she had ever encountered. Even with his power and strength, he was still kind, generous, and gentle. The kind of man she had secretly yearned for but feared didn't exist.

  Yet she knew she couldn't have him. He was someone else's husband. She couldn't betray Nonye, even if the princess didn't appreciate him. It wasn't Ezinne's decision to make. The gods had already decided who would spend the rest of her life with Emeka, and it wasn't Ezinne.

  "If you could have anything, I mean anything, what would it be?"

  His profound question roused her out of her reverie. She looked up at Emeka, He watched her with concentrated focus. Confused, she squinted at him. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

  "What is your greatest desire? Say it and I'll grant it."

  She sat back in thought. Right now, her greatest desire was to be in his arms, to have him soothe the ache within her.

  Even she wasn't stupid enough to openly admit she desired another woman's husband. More so when the man had no desire for her. Especially a woman like Nonye who would invoke the demons from the underworld to torment her if she dared show any disloyalty.

  So she went for the relatively safer option.

  "I desire freedom more than anything else," she said with a joviality she didn’t feel, knowing that even Emeka couldn't grant her that wish.

  "Then you have it. You are free to do whatever pleases you. If you want to leave the palace and go live somewhere else, you can do that," Emeka said, smiling as if he'd achieved a great feat.

  Sadness squeezed her chest. If only it was that easy. She reached out and took his large hand in hers, squeezing it, reveling in its strength and warmth.

  "Thank you so much for granting my wish. Someday it may actualize. But for now, I'm not free until Nonye grants my freedom too."

  Looking displeased, he moved his hand away. "What? In Umunri, I'm your master, and my word carries more sway than Nonye's. So as I've granted your freedom, you are free from this moment onward."

  She shook her head knowing he wouldn't understand. "In Umulari, all the slaves are made to take an oath binding them to their masters or mistresses. I'm bound to Princess Nonye by an oath only she can break or my life is forfeit."

  Emeka sat back, looking shocked, the frown on his face deepening. Overwhelmed with gloom and needing to get away, Ezinne stood, the sound of the hardwood chair scrapping the stone floor, jarring her nerves even more.

  This was the reason she didn't like thinking or talking about her life. She always ended up wanting to end it all. What kind of life was it to be bound to someone when you would rather
be free as a bird?

  "Please excuse me, my prince, but I need some air."

  He grabbed her hand, searing her to the bone. She could barely stand straight, her knees wobbled.

  "Don't go. Let me help you."

  She could hear the pain and shock in his voice. But she couldn't stay here. She would end up begging him to take her in his arms and soothe her pain. She couldn't do that.

  "No one can help me. I'll stay if you insist, but I'd rather not be here right now."

  "I understand. You can go. Good night, Ezinne" He nodded, releasing her hand.

  "Good night, my prince," she said and fled the room without looking back.

  ***

  Emeka sat in the same chair without moving after Ezinne left. He couldn't believe what Ezinne had told him. Yet in the back of his mind he knew she wouldn't lie to him. What reason would she have to tell a falsehood about something like this when she knew he could verify it for himself?

  The people of Umulari made their slaves take oaths before a shrine that permanently bound them to their masters.

  It was quite unbelievable. It was bad enough that they had slaves, a practice he abhorred. He believed every individual should be free born, free to choose their own destiny, not under anyone else's yoke.

  He had thought that with his marriage to Nonye, he could show the people of Umulari how they could make the lives of their citizens more stable by freeing slaves. Now it seemed the problem was more deeply rooted and wouldn't be easily wiped out.

  Still he had to do something about it. He couldn't simply fold his hands and watch injustice from afar. First he had to start with Nonye. Ezinne was a human being and should be allowed to exercise her free will without being forcefully bound to her mistress.

  Nonye needed to start learning to behave like a citizen of Umunri which she now was by virtue of their marriage. She was not permitted to keep slaves, and he had to ensure that all slaves bound to her were released from the oath as soon as she returned.

  Even when he'd decided what he was going to do, he remained unmoving in his chair. He should call out for the table to the cleared off the dinner crockery. Instead, the vision of Ezinne with tears rolling down her cheeks tormented him.

 

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