A Maiden, a King, and an Officer (1)

One late afternoon, Emeravwe confronted Mudiaga as they left the Bureau of Court Affairs on an errand. Aye Chioma had asked her to retrieve some documents from the Bureau of Departmental Affairs, another division of the Department of Court Inspections, and Mudiaga insisted on tagging along.

She narrowed her eyes at him as they walked the halls of the Bureau of Court Affairs. “Mudiaga, why do you persist in pestering me?”

He attempted a frown, but his light brown eyes were laughing, and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Pestering! That’s harsh, Emeravwe. As an officer of the crown, isn’t the noble thing to do to offer my assistance to a Maiden?”

“No. Your assistance becomes inappropriate when offered too frequently.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but there was nothing to contend in her statement. So he grinned, instead. “Alright, I’m just having a little fun, is all.” She scowled. “And you’re not, so why don’t you drop the pretense?”

She furrowed her brow, lifting her chin. “What pretense?”

“That haughty attitude and semblance of propriety.” His eyes narrowed, “I’ve seen your true colors,” then a kind smile softened his look, “and I like them.”

Emeravwe rolled her eyes, thinking, There he goes again.

“Don’t roll your eyes, I’m serious!” he said, truly frowning now. “You’re a bit more daring than most Maidens I’ve come across—you call me by name easily enough when no one is around. And for all the effort you put into ignoring me when people are around, you fail miserably half the time.” He shook his head. “More like you give in.”

They stopped to pay respects to two senior officials who passed them in the hall, then turned a corner and headed for the front entrance.

Mudiaga continued, “I get along well enough with everyone in our office now, but that’s because I’ve given them no choice but to put up with me for the past three years.”

Emeravwe could only imagine how his persistent, unorthodox ways had worn them down, and crossed Eunuch Otase.

“When I was first assigned to the office, though, they all treated me like a molting worm—like you tried to do. But I see right through you, Emeravwe. You don’t have as much as an ounce of disdain for me, so why put up a front?”

Emeravwe faced him and he smirked knowingly. She was surprised at how perceptive he was. Or perhaps she had not been as subtle as she thought with her gradual acceptance of him. She could not scorn him.

Because I know what it feels like to be on the receiving end, she thought as they exited the bureau, the heat of the late afternoon sun bearing down on them.

She paused on the landing of the bureau’s steps and faced Mudiaga with an aloof expression. She said obstinately, a bit peeved that he read her so easily, “You are mistaking, I do hate you.”

He squinted doubtfully, prodding her with his eyes. As they held each other’s gaze, the corners of her mouth gave way. Mudiaga broke in his own crooked grin, and Emeravwe’s smile grew as she watched him. His dimpled smile was altogether boyish and charming.

He began descending the steps, his eyes still on her. “I hope there’ll be no more games between us, then.” His grin turned mischievous. “Well, there might be games of a different, more enticing nature. I’d welcome that.”

Emeravwe followed him, saying pointedly, “I am a Maiden. Unless you are the Orodje, I can play no games with you.”

Mudiaga raised a brow. “So that’s your aim?” He waved a dismissive hand. “Forget some stiff-necked Orodje you’ll probably never meet. Hang with me, instead.”

She wondered, Hang? “Uh, no! I would rather stay alive.”

He burst in laughter. “‘Hang’ doesn’t mean we should die together. It’s slang used in the marketplace meaning we should play together.”

Emeravwe’s face heated with embarrassment as he kept laughing. How was she to know what slang was used in the marketplace?

She turned sourly from him with a smack of her lips and spotted two Eunuchs at the bottom of the steps. Both looked gracefully tall in their brown Eunuchs’ robes, the taller one standing slightly behind the other. Their heads were wrapped in identical yellow headcloths, and though the day was calm with no wind to stir up dust, the ends of the cloths were wound around their faces, so only their eyes were exposed.

They stood watching Emeravwe and Mudiaga, who respectfully bowed their heads as they approached the two Eunuchs.

When they reached the bottom of the steps, they bent in a butu and digwe, greeting, “Miguo, Ogas.”

The Eunuch in front answered jauntily, “Agaenaye Emeravwe, Vrendo.”

Emeravwe’s head snapped up at the sound of the voice, her eyes locking with the amber gaze. Reaching up, the Eunuch loosed the cloth from his face to reveal the familiar gentle smile, and Emeravwe’s heart leapt.

“Aslan!” she gasped. She had never seen him anywhere other than the Eunuchs’ Compound, much less in broad daylight!

She looked long at him, shocked at his sudden appearance, then surprised as she took in his presence. Even under the light of the moon, she had thought Aslan quite handsome. But as she studied him now, she saw she had not done him nearly enough justice.

His neatly arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and fine jawline alone were amply stunning. But his long lashes scintillated with such a metallic copper hue in the light of the sun, it was like a shimmering red veil shielded his eyes. And his amber eyes, too, sparked with a hypnotizing golden glow, his bronze skin shining softly beneath the sun. His bearing seemed more imposing in the open light of day than in the comfort of their garden, his aura more dignified.

“Vrendo,” he said to Mudiaga as he extended a hand to help Emeravwe from her butu. “Rise.”

She took his hand and rose, but continued to stare, a strange anxiety washing over her.

She had always met Aslan surreptitiously, under the cover of night, because her days were filled with work, and it was by no means acceptable for a Eunuch and Maiden to meet so frequently. She never imagined she would run into him like this. Their meetings had been secretive for so long that seeing him now in public daylight felt very odd. He warned her he would pay Mudiaga a visit, but…

Her heart drummed, yet a corner of her mind wanted to urge him to retreat, to remain hidden in their secret garden. She wondered, What is wrong with you? She had also felt this way when she first introduced him to Akpokene.

Mudiaga cleared his throat beside her, drawing Emeravwe from her reverie. She looked up at him and saw he studied her with lowered brow, his eyes suspicious.

Her face flared with heat. Why is he looking at me that way? He cannot know what I was thinking!

She turned to Aslan and he smiled. That sweet, tender smile he had given her countless times over the years, and which seized her heart of late. Now, as it softly tugged at the corners of his full lips, and his long lashes drooped down to curtain his mesmerizing amber eyes, Emeravwe realized just how devastating it was. Her heart lurched, and she tore her gaze from his.

“I have some time to spare this evening,” he explained, “so I thought I might stop by the Bureau of Court Affairs.”

“Oh,” she managed, staring at the ground.

Her eyes shifted to the Eunuch beside him.

The Eunuch looked to be in his early thirties and stood silently with hands folded in the sleeves of his robe. He had loosened the headcloth which masked him, and Emeravwe observed a long face with low, dark eyebrows and a sharp nose. Especially of note were his hazel eyes and air of respectability.

Emeravwe stared at the Eunuch. She had never seen him before, yet a vague sense of familiarity persisted in her as she studied him.

What was even more mystifying was the feeling of unease the Eunuch’s presence gave her.

Her head twinged, and she flinched.