Chapter 3: Heartbreak at the Pavilion

"The princess don realize say Sulaiman no want be her husband, na why she no choose straight?"

The air crackled with sharp gossip, like market women when pepper price jump. My chest burned with shame.

"Whether she know or not no matter. Wetin matter be if she go fit let Sulaiman go. Princess like her, dem dey always get wetin dem want—spoilt pikin, how she go take bear say her crush no want her?"

I bit my lip, holding back tears. In the palace, weakness is not for a princess.

"She sabi say him love another person but still wan force herself marry am, na real shame. She deserve make Sulaiman treat am cold forever."

The cruelty of the words stunned me more than any slap. I remembered Grandma’s words: Sometimes the world will judge, even if your heart is clean.

All those voices for air just dey ring for my head, full of bad belle.

It was like being stung by bees—no escape, only pain.

So if I wan be with Sulaiman, na me be the bad person.

My spirit dropped. I wanted to run and hide under my mother’s wrappers, never to come out.

I held my breath, told the palace guard to take me to the lakeside pavilion.

He nodded, face tight with worry. We moved quickly, feet silent on the gravel, the air heavy with the scent of rain and wet earth.

I no believe all these strange words at all.

I clenched my fists, determined to face the truth myself. I would not let gossip rule my fate.

Sulaiman no want marry me? Him get person for him heart?

The question echoed in my chest. I needed to hear it from him.

I rehearsed what I would say, courage building with every step.

As long as he talk say he no want marry me, I no go disturb am again.

But as I reached the pavilion and saw him with a young woman, my courage vanished.

The moon cast silver over the lakeside. Sulaiman stood close to Aisha, their laughter soft and easy.

The girl dabbed ink on his nose. Sulaiman jumped, then smiled, ears turning red.

It was a playfulness he never showed me. My stomach twisted, and I pressed my lips together, determined not to cry.

Some things, you no need ask before you know.

It was written in their eyes, the way they moved together—a song only they could hear.

"See as dem sweet together."

Even the spirits seemed to sigh, content.

"Sulaiman dey free with Aisha pass how e dey with princess. No fear of power, dem dey equal."

Their laughter drifted over the water, unburdened by royal weight. I felt more alone than ever.

"No be say Sulaiman no wan make dem pick am because of pressure. The poor guy no fit control him own marriage. No wonder e dey vex for princess."

Sulaiman dey vex for me?

The thought was a slap. I never wanted to be the reason for his pain.

Even though na rainy season, my fingers cold.

The wind whipped my scarf. I hugged myself, shivering.

The people at the pavilion noticed me.

Heads turned, whispers spreading. I felt every eye, judging.

Sulaiman saw me. His smile vanished. He wiped the ink off, walked over.

His agbada caught the wind as he bowed. "Princess, you dey here."

His voice was formal, clipped. The warmth I knew was gone.

"Who she be?" Aisha’s voice was light, almost teasing. Sulaiman tensed, squared his shoulders.

He bit his lip, thinking. He shifted to block my view, protective.

"Ah, na person from palace, no worry yourself."

He brushed it off, eyes cold. It was clear where his heart belonged.

He wanted to shield her—from my power, from gossip.

A bitter pang hit me. Had I become the threat, just by loving him?

I straightened, forcing my voice steady: "True? Then escort me go palace. I no carry attendant…"

Inside, I was shaking. The pain was sharp, but I wouldn’t let them see me break.

"My painting!" Aisha cried as the wind snatched her canvas, sending it toward the lake.

She reached for it, nearly falling. Sulaiman’s face changed. He rushed back, pulling her safely into his arms.

He moved quick, all his concern for her. She blushed, stepping out of his embrace, giggling.

Their eyes met, no room for a third person.

Just as the voices said: loving couple.

Even the air felt heavy with their happiness.

The last hope for my heart died that moment.

I swallowed hard, fighting tears. My dreams crumbled like dry bread.

I turned away.

It took everything in me not to run, to walk with dignity.

"Princess."

Sulaiman called once. I didn’t look back, and he didn’t call again.

Their laughter trailed behind me, sharp as broken glass. I walked away, heart heavy, knowing this was truly the end.