I Served the Crown Prince, He Stabbed Me for Love / Chapter 6: Last Stand in the Palace
I Served the Crown Prince, He Stabbed Me for Love

I Served the Crown Prince, He Stabbed Me for Love

Author: Derek Herring


Chapter 6: Last Stand in the Palace

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Days pass before Musa Garuba call me.

Na three days of silent prayer, my mind dey work overtime. Palace dey buzz with rumour, but me, I dey calm. My body dey weak, but my spirit still dey ginger.

As I dey go main hall, everybody wey see me dey look me with pity.

Even palace cook, Mama Shola, pause soup, look me with one kind eye. Some guards dey whisper, 'Na that girl Musa leave for street.' Pity full everywhere.

Vice General Ibrahim stop me, wan talk. “Ayo, me dey your side, but king order don set—nothing fit change am. You…”

He hold my hand, eye dey soft. "If you need anything, just talk. Musa no do well, but palace law be law."

I pat him shoulder.

I smile, rub his shoulder. "I dey okay, Ibrahim. I sabi my own path. No fear for me."

“No worry. I sabi wetin I dey do.”

I talk am with sure voice. No be today dem dey push Ayo anyhow.

“Me, Ayo, no dey stay because of man.”

My own life no be just to dey follow man waka. I dey stay because my heart pure, not because of title or hope say dem go dash me gold.

He just frown, think say I dey force smile, look me with one kind eye, follow me enter hall.

E dey fear say I go break down, but me, I just hold my head up, enter with small pride. If na my fate, make e come as e wan come.

Inside, Musa Garuba dey write, some old friends from north dey there.

Old soldiers dey sit for bench, some dey drink zobo, others dey play draught. As I enter, small hush fall for room. Musa no look up, just dey write.

As dem see me, dem just sigh, shake head, face show regret.

Some dey nod, others dey shift for chair. I see small tears for one old friend's eye, e pain me.

I bow.

I bend low, show respect. My cloth still dey rough from sickness, but my pride still dey shine.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

My voice strong. I let am ring for hall.

Musa Garuba just dey act like say he no hear, still bend head, until my leg dey shake, I almost fall. Na then he talk, voice cold.

E keep me for kneel long, just dey test my patience. I fit feel old friend eye dey pity me. Na so my leg dey shake small before Musa finally talk.

“Ayo, you get mind, abi? These days, people full everywhere dey beg for you.”

Him voice sharp, like blade. My heart skip, but I hold face straight.

“Dem talk say you do everything for me…”

He pause, eye dey look me up and down. Old friends dey look Musa, dey wait see wetin e go talk next.

“Today, I call you make you talk any wish you want.”

He talk am with small pride, like say e dey do me big favour. I no shake.

“Crown Princess position don promise Fatima. Anything else, I go give you.”

Him word loud, everybody hear am. Some guards dey whisper, some dey look ground. Na my own life dem dey discuss like market tomato.

For one moment, everybody for hall just look me.

Silence spread, even breeze no blow. Old soldier eye dey red, one old woman for corner cover mouth.

Nobody expect this luck go reach me like this.

Na so hope dey work. People dey reason say I fit ask for land, gold, title. Everybody dey expect gist.

I happy reach bone, clear throat: “Really—anything at all?”

I let my voice rise, add small play for my face. If dem wan drama, make I give am.

He just dey look me, smile like say he dey mock, voice get small pride.

Musa own smile dey sly, as if say he sure say I go beg am for small thing.

“Of course. Even side consort, I fit give you.”

Na so everybody for hall shift. Side consort? E mean say I go dey for palace, but no be number one. I just look Musa, try smile.

I nod, kneel down sharp-sharp.

I let my knee knock ground. Dust fly, people dey look with big eye. My knee dey pain, but my pride dey hold me strong—palace floor cold reach bone.

“In that case, Your Highness, abeg give me three thousand male concubines.”

I let my voice ring for room. I open mouth wide, smile big. I see some old friends hold chest, others nearly laugh fall.

As I talk finish, everywhere just quiet like grave.

No pin drop. Even Musa eye widen. If mosquito fly, everybody go hear.

Some old friends dey scratch ear, no believe wetin dem hear.

Even the old soldier wey no dey laugh, mouth open. Na real wahala I drop for ground.

Musa Garuba sef shock, sit up for high seat, the sure look for him face just freeze as he dey look me, no sure again.

E never see woman wey get mind talk like this for palace. Even guards dey hide laugh. My own chest dey swell.

“Wet in you talk? I no hear well.”

Musa voice crack. E dey try form strong, but I see small fear. Na my time to shine be this.

No wahala, maybe my voice too low before.

I stand up small, clear throat, look Musa face to face. I let my voice carry go window, so even the birds go hear.

I clear my throat, raise voice, shout well: “Your Highness, three thousand male concubines!”

I repeat am, let the word fly for hall. If na film, na here they go freeze frame, put my face for poster. E sweet me die!

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