And The Gears Turn (2)

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Radiant sunbeams penetrated the foliage above, falling lightly on the pansy-covered ground to form a kaleidoscope of dancing lights in the shade of the trees. The little girl dashed through the sunny patchwork and field of dainty wild pansies, her laughter ringing. In her pursuit was a teenage boy who made a show of stumbling over himself as he ran after her, causing the girl to burst even more with laughter.

She shrieked with frantic anticipation as he reached for her, but before he could grab her, a man leaned over and swept her off her feet in a swooping motion. He threw her on his shoulder and took off, the boy protesting as he chased after them. A woman sitting a distance away beneath the trees, with a picnic arrayed before her, waved her handkerchief in the air, cheering on the girl and the man who raced her through the fields.

Emeravwe lay silently on her bed, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. Her head throbbed with a chronic headache, but she did not rise to medicate the pain. She stared into the darkness of her chamber, knowing she would get no more sleep that night.

Since her visit with Mudiaga’s family, she had been having such dreams. A family of four playing in fields, having lunch on a veranda, walking through a garden. At first, she thought her yearning for a family conjured them, so she dismissed the visions as she had her previous. But the same individuals appeared repeatedly. A woman and her husband, a little girl and teenage boy. She could never remember their faces once she woke up, but a feeling of warmth entwined with heartache always engulfed her.

Emeravwe rolled on her side and sobbed into her pillow. The dreams and constant headache were taking their toll. I am sick of this, she thought.

She had decided long ago that she would not let the mystery of her past become a burden to her. She would not cry because of a family she never knew, who perhaps had abandoned her. It was for this reason that she focused on bettering herself and her station. Yet, since the dreams began, it was harder to concentrate on anything else. They were becoming too consistent for her to simply dismiss them as empty illusions. And it was too much of a coincidence that they occurred only after she had a relevant experience, like triggered memories.

But if they truly are recollections of my past… She buried her face in the pillow, driving away the frightening image of orange-clad soldiers and the woman sitting in a pool of blood. Her body tensed with trepidation, her headache pounding. Did she dare to remember? If she did not, how much longer would she have to go on in her current state?

For almost two weeks, since the night he kissed her, Emeravwe avoided going to the garden to see Aslan. Her heart fluttered whenever she thought of him, and she was too ashamed to face him. Yet she could not avoid him forever, and the distress caused by her dreams led her to seek his comfort.

When she meekly entered the garden again, he greeted her cheerfully. And though she was cautious around him and sat with more distance between them on the bench than usual, he made no mention of it. He behaved as always, and this put Emeravwe somewhat at ease.

She accepted that he meant a lot more to her than she had been willing to admit. But she had lived nearly her whole life with him constantly showering her with affection. It would have been strange if she did not feel something for him. Still, her feelings for him were various. He was friend. He was family. He was security. He was comfort. He was constant. All of this made him beloved. Even so, she was not sure she was willing to resign to any romantic sentiments. In truth, she was no longer certain what she wanted.

Nothing seemed within her grasp. Not the king or her emotions, or the meaning behind her dreams. It was this last point, though, that troubled her the most and seemed the least resolvable. The only things that distracted her from these worries were the year-end events that began in the palace and work in the Bureau of Court Affairs.

As they neared the end of the year, the palace livened not only with festivities, but with gossip of the king and Queen Dowager’s continual dispute. Each year Onorogu from all eight provinces came to the capital to celebrate the holy day, the Day of Birth, and welcome the New Year. Many esteemed individuals were invited to the palace to accompany the royal family during this time, but this year was a bit different.

Among the guests were provincial scholars, Lesser Onorogu, who the king personally invited to the palace. Their arrival caused a stir because not only was it felt that Lesser Onorogu were unworthy of such an honor, but the king also took to spending long hours in private sessions with the scholars, neglecting his meetings with his Council of Advisors. The Council was offended by the slight, and the Queen Dowager denounced the king at court for scorning tradition. In protest, she began boycotting the ceremonies and rites held in the weeks leading up to the Day of Birth, and criticisms of the king ensued, accusing him of failing his filial duties and responsibilities to the court.

Despite such commotion and the increased number of persons that roamed the palace, work in the Bureau of Court Affairs proceeded as usual, and Emeravwe completed routine tasks as well as minor cases outside the palace. Then, in the third week of December, Eunuch Otase called her and Agaenaye Fatima to his desk, giving them an update on the Okémeh case.

He said, leaning back in his chair, “A task force of the Bureau of Investigations was sent to the Efekodo Province to gain information on Okémeh, and it seems their efforts were successful.”