Broken Prince, Eunuch’s Revenge / Chapter 3: The Price of Power
Broken Prince, Eunuch’s Revenge

Broken Prince, Eunuch’s Revenge

Author: Jennifer Delgado


Chapter 3: The Price of Power

I just weak for Musa Lawal lap, dey spin my ring for finger, I ask, "How my mama dey?" My voice small, like person wey dey beg for garri for market.

"Because of Your Highness, Mama Dowager dey better now." Musa Lawal voice calm, but e dey hide pride for corner mouth.

E suppose be so. Palace doctor nor fit talk lie for Musa Lawal face. If Musa Lawal talk say person well, na so e be.

She don sick all through harmattan. The cold grip her chest, her breath dey shake like dry leaf. I dey fear every night say I go wake, see dem tie white cloth for door.

If I no beg Musa Lawal, strip myself naked, make am do wetin e want—

She for don die. Palace get rules, but power dey pass rule for this place.

Chief Steward, Chief Steward. That useless servant don turn Garkuwa, the most powerful eunuch for this land. Him word dey strong pass palace gate.

But me, wey be real prince, don turn stray dog, dey fear every day. I nor dey sleep well, I dey dream say dem dey drag me go bush, palace light dey fade.

Since I lose the fight for throne, and the new king take over, I no be Fourth Prince again. My name don turn ghost for palace record. Only the old guards still dey call me prince for corner.

Even palace doctors no dey answer me. If I cough, dem go turn eye like say dem nor hear anything.

The new king no wan see me. Everywhere lock. Na so power dey shift for palace, one minute you dey shine, next minute, your shadow nor fit follow you.

So, for the first cold wind, I go beg the person wey I no even want see. My legs dey shake as I waka go Eastern Quarters. Every step heavy, guards dey watch, nobody talk.

Palace corridor dey smell of old wood and shea butter, guards dey tap foot for marble floor. Musa Lawal room get coal pot, the heat dey melt the cold for my hair and eyebrow. The warm dey make me wan cry. The kind warmth I never feel since my mama sick, e touch my heart like old lullaby.

He wear red agbada with gold, lie down for couch, dey play with cat for him hand. "Your Highness know say His Majesty want make Mama Dowager die. Nobody fit save am." Musa Lawal voice dey ring like bell for empty church.

Musa Lawal no lie. That man mouth nor sabi fear, e dey talk true wey dey cut person like blade.

If not, I no go come beg am. My pride for keep me inside cold, but family dey pass pride sometimes.

Na only him fit talk for new king front. The way Musa Lawal dey move for court, even elders dey shift seat for am.

Na Musa Lawal even support the new king when everybody dey against am. E use him brain, him tongue, and small black book to turn table for palace meeting.

I grip my fist, bow my head. "Abeg, for old time sake..." My voice low, I nor fit look am for face, shame dey hold me like old wrapper.

"Old time?" Musa Lawal hiss, look up. "Your Highness, you sure say any feeling still dey between us?" Him eye dey sharp, e dey read my soul like market list.

Before, e dey. But now, e don die finish. Na only memory dey remain like old yam for barn.

When the fight for throne dey hot, Musa Lawal follow Sani Umar. E wound me, I disgrace am. The pain dey fresh for my mind, like pepper for eye.

Any love wey remain, na only hate dey now. For palace, love fit turn quick to hate, na only strong survive.

I just quiet. My hand dey shake, but I nor let am see.

"Your Highness, if you wan beg, show am well." Musa Lawal mouth nor dey hide sense, e dey use sharp tongue draw blood.

"If I save Mama Dowager, wetin you go give me?" Musa Lawal eye dey shine, as if e dey see beyond palace wall.

Give wetin? I no get anything again. My chest dey tight, I dey find answer for air.

"Wetin you want?" I whisper, hope say na small thing e go ask.

Musa Lawal pause, drop the cat, clean him hand with handkerchief, talk, "Remove am." The words hang for room, everybody—cat, lamp, wall—dey silent.

My head blank, shock and vex dey fight for my mind. "Wetin you talk?" My mouth dry, tongue nor gree roll.

The lamp dey throw shadow for Musa Lawal face, make am look like devil with fine face. The light dey bend, play for him cheekbone.

He repeat, calm, "Remove your cloth." Musa Lawal voice steady, e nor dey fear thunder.

"I wan see Your Highness." Every word dey enter my bone, cold dey run my back.

He throw the handkerchief inside fire, warm him slim, fair hand for the flame. "The faster you naked, the faster Mama Dowager go well." E talk am like say na ordinary market deal.

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