Interesting Revelation

In the heart of Azura's palace, inside his chambers, sat Yovana before his fireplace that cast shadows on the walls in his room.

He was seated on his rocking chair as he swayed it gently, the carved wood creaking with each push. A triumphant smile slowly crept onto his lips and he brought his index finger forward into the flame of the torch lit before him, playing with it.

"Quite the surprise, wasn't it?" He asked Vekar, who stood beside him, staring at the fireplace as well.

Vekar's hands were behind him, clenched into fists as his expression remained stoic, clearly not finding amusement in whatever was exciting the prince.

"She made my job so much easier," he said with a low chuckle.

At his back was Baraka, the same man who had met with the white traders during Moremi's ill-fated encounter. The man still held an expression of disbelief.

"I was shocked, Your Highness," Baraka confessed. "We had just dispatched our men to Mandinga to seize her… and yet—" he shook his head, "she had delivered herself right into our hands." the man explained, remembering how they had found her by the riverside.

Yovana grinned, tapping his fingers together in satisfaction. "It's as if fate itself aligned with our plan. And yet, it wasn't fate—it was her own doing. The fool handed herself over. I still wonder what she had been doing in the forest." He continued, rubbing his hand on his chin.

"I heard rumours, Your Highness...the princess hunted along those alleys. She practised archery by catching birds in the woods, although it was against her father's will." Baraka informed the prince.

If he had just turned a bit to look from the corner of his eye, he would have seen the glare Vekar sent his way.

Oblivious, he continued, "I must confess. When we first saw her by the river's edge, I thought my eyes had deceived me, Your Highness. But I was certain it was she. I had laid my eyes on her once before." Baraka said, remembering the unique features of the princess.

"She was alone?" Yovana inquired.

"Not entirely, Your Highness. We had seen the white slave traders nearby, shooting and chasing after someone so we hid and decided to watch. It was only after they stopped at the riverbank and turned away that we realised it was the Mandingan princess."

Yovana pinched his brows, finding this revelation interesting.

If truly her father had been against her hunting, it explained why she hadn't been out without guardsmen.

She didn't want anyone to be aware of her disappearance.

Poor Moremi had indeed escaped the white men after she jumped into the river. However, she was unaware of the prying eyes that followed her down to the riverbank.

Yovana had instructed Baraka to dispatch a few men to Mandinga secretly to capture Moremi before the white men's arrival to buy more slaves.

He had planned to sell her at a hefty price.

Even though he was aware that infiltrating a kingdom like that was unwise, he was willing to take the risk just to get back at Moremi.

He tsked with a smug smile, "Too bad. Now, no one will ever say I kidnapped her. She left of her own accord." he shrugged his shoulders with a made-up sad smile.

"I hear they sent us a message." He inquired of Vekar, who stood, seeming unwilling to reply to the prince, but he did anyway.

"It appears, Your Highness." He brought the parchment forward, handing it to Yovana.

The prince opened it, reading its content while Vekar explained, "The King intends to know if his daughter had trespassed the white men's territory and is willing to pay fourfold of his resources to acquire the princess back."

Yovana heard this and burst into unhinged laughter, filled with mockery and ridicule.

"How pitiful," he commented. "Perhaps he should have birthed a more docile and elegant daughter." He tched.

"At least, she wouldn't shamelessly go hunting in the forest like a hungry commoner." He tossed the parchment into the fire, watching it burn and turn into ashes.

"You know what to tell my father." He looked at Vekar with a raised eyebrow to see him nod obediently, even though deep down, he was unhappy with this development.

Vekar had been paying attention to everything Baraka said, and he slowly started to connect the dots together.

His face twisted in dissatisfaction and his brows furrowed as waves of disappointment settled on his face.

He'd wondered why Yovana had been so unbothered since the day of the incident with Moremi.

It was not because he didn't wish for the prince to forget about the disgraceful event from that day but he knew Yovana was not one to forgive so easily.

His calmness appeared suspicious and Vekar had been right.

Seeing the Mandingan princess sold and taken away by the white men made Vekar boil in anger, but he could do nothing about it.

What made it even more unsettling was the fact that Yovana had gone as far as planning to capture her from Mandinga, simply to fuel his pride.

He knew the slave traders were aware of her worth. She was a princess and untouched. Captain George had paid a whopping fifty gold coins to purchase her.

There was no telling that they didn't know she was of great value.

______

On the other hand, a paralysed Moremi lay still in the dark hell she had been cast into.

She had lost track of time—whether it was night or day no longer mattered.

Her body was sore from the cold, hard floor pressing against her side for hours. Her limbs were stiff, her wrists raw where the chains had bit into her skin.

She could still feel the metallic taste of blood in her mouth from the metal rod that had struck her earlier.

Hunger gnawed at her ribs like a wild dog, and her parched throat burned every time she tried to swallow.

But that was the least of her worries.

For the first time, Moremi—the princess of Mandinga, daughter of King Jelani and child of the moon goddess—began to accept a truth more bitter than the pain: She was in a mess far greater than she had imagined.

No one was coming. No one even knew where she was. She, herself, was clueless about how far she had gone from home. She had no idea what to do or how to escape. She was on the sea where no one would find her, even though she died this instant.

Her stomach growled again—loud and wild—reminding her just how badly she needed food. She shut her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Crying would only tighten the knot in her throat and worsen the dryness in her mouth.

Suddenly, a loud bang cracked through the silence.

The door was flung open with such force that some people flinched instinctively.

"Food! And water!" a man's voice bellowed, his accent foreign and thick.

Finally!

Moremi sighed in relief.