Chapter 2: Chains and Chamber

Compared to Garba Musa’s big, muscular body, Aisha just small like broomstick beside his arms. Her hands thin, her face dey soft like bread, eyes wide with fear but still dey stand. Garba Musa, even with wounds, still look like war general.

Desert beast dey need one trembling small white goat to protect am.

For palace, dem go talk: "Na only innocent heart fit melt iron." But who go believe say lion need goat to survive?

After Aisha show, WhatsApp comments just dey hail her, while all of them dey call me wicked, finished villainess.

Outside, palace gossip don start. Even guards dey type under table: "That Aisha, pure like rain water. Our own Eldest Princess, her heart na stone."

I lower my eyes, glance the blood on my whip, no shake.

The blood dry, but my spirit still dey strong. Mercy no dey for my dictionary, not today. I drop my gaze, make dem no see my real thought.

"Elder sister, abeg, leave am."

Her voice sound like small bell. E no get power, but e dey ring for my ear. Palace maids dey wipe their own tears.

"Anything e go cost, I go pay for am."

I hear palace steward whisper: "Where small girl wan see money?" But Aisha no care—her mind made up. Na her spirit dey talk.

Aisha stand before me, her voice dey shake, but she still grit her teeth, stand stubborn.

Even when fear dey her eyes, her leg no dey tremble. She fit be my half-sister, but her heart strong pass her age. I dey look am, dey wonder if na our father blood dey run hotter for her vein.

Behind her, Garba Musa’s amber eyes dey burn me, fierce and hungry for blood.

He dey look me, no even look Aisha. For his mind, na only me be real enemy. E fit be say he respect Aisha, but na me hold his destiny.

For his eyes, na only me dey.

That kind look dey make person shiver. If na olden days, na this type dey end in war song.

Suddenly, I laugh.

The laugh come from deep, surprise everybody. Some guards look ground, afraid. Aisha grip her wrapper tight. My own heart dey beat, but my pride no go let me show am.

Aisha’s small face turn pale.

I see fear catch her, but she no run. Even my own laughter dey echo for dungeon wall. For that moment, she be like chicken for hawk den.

Just as WhatsApp comments talk: I be villainess wey go die bad, she dey use am play saint.

Dem dey use us play chess for WhatsApp. "Aisha go win am with love, villainess go lose with hate." I just dey laugh. Life no be like that—here, na only power dey matter.

If I go die, make all of us follow die.

My own philosophy—if I dey fall, nobody go stand. Na so my mother train me. Palace no dey spare the weak.

"Tonight, I never pick man to serve me."

My voice dey cold, but my mind dey hot. The tension thick like ogbono soup. Even the guards dey swallow spit.

I waka round Aisha.

The floor cold, my slippers no dey make sound. I circle am, dey size her up. I feel the power shift for room—palace people dey watch, dey learn.

Step on Garba Musa’s tense, dark-coloured thigh, I no even send his wounds.

My own heart do kpim, but I no fit show weakness for front of all these people. The blood dey warm under my foot. I see his muscle flex, but he no move. Palace boys for back dey whisper: "This woman wicked, o."

My fingers slowly tighten the iron chain for his neck, drag am come my leg.

The chain heavy, but I hold am steady. Garba Musa’s breath dey hot, almost burn my leg. Na power show—if him move, I go flog again.

"This man-servant sweet my belle."

My voice loud, make sure all hear. Even chief steward dey cough, afraid. For palace, my word na law.

"Na him go serve me tonight."

The guards dey shift uncomfortably, but nobody talk. Aisha mouth open small, tears dey fall but she hold her ground.

Aisha freeze, her eyes shrink, her voice sharp:

Her voice crack like broken calabash. "No! Elder sister, pick another person—you no fit touch am!"

Even with all her fear, she still stand. My own heart dey cold, but her pain dey scratch my mind.

I lift Garba Musa’s chin, feel his rough, hot breath for my ear under the muzzle.

His breath dey burn, even with blood for his lips. I dey feel the tension, the anger, the pride. For my mind, I dey win—at least for tonight.

"Na lowly man-servant—if I want am, I go take am. Who you be to talk?"

I give her hard look, remind her who be boss. Aisha fit get soft heart, but na power dey rule palace.

"Somebody, clean am and bring am to my palace."

My order be like thunder. Palace guards rush, nobody wan delay. Aisha drop for ground, tears no dey end. My own heart dey stone, but my hand steady.

WhatsApp comments dey cry:

[Run o! Run! Sweet baby heroine never even build feelings with male lead, villainess wan reach there first—love go turn hate.]

[Abeg, the flogging no too much? Male lead fit still perform?]

[He go perform well! You no see am? Villainess flog am, he shiver, even bend back. These wounds na small thing—e dey enjoy am.]

My phone dey vibrate nonstop—palace maids dey update group chat: "Villainess don cross line. Garba Musa fit never forgive am!" I dey smile. Wetin be love for this kingdom? Na power dey last.

I look my whip awkwardly.

For the first time, my hand dey shake small. The koboko still dey drip blood. I think, "Na me wicked pass?" I drop am for my table, wrap am with old cloth.

My usual hard face suddenly dey hot.

The room hot, but my face hotter. Palace boys dey peep, I turn face away. Even me, I dey wonder if I go too far. But I no fit stop now.

This whip sef, e too dangerous to keep.

My mother talk say, "If you no fit hold your weapon with clean hand, drop am." I hide am under bed, out of sight.

[Ahh, this one sweet—villainess sis, your strong love na correct!]

[This kind twisted couple dey sweet my belle, wetin I go do?]

Palace girls dey giggle, dey bet for who go fall first. Some dey wish say dem fit get my kind courage. Others dey pray make I no bring wahala reach their side.

Inside palace chamber—

The chamber big, red and gold everywhere, cowrie shells for curtain, oil lamp dey glow. Sweet smell of hibiscus for air. Curtains dey move with small breeze. The silence thick like yam porridge.

Garba Musa don clean up, dem bring am come.

His wounds dey bandaged, but his eyes still dey wild. Dem no fit find cloth wey fit him size, so him wear only small wrapper, skin dey show everywhere. Palace maids dey rush out after dress am, dey whisper for corridor about how forbidden the night be, and how even the moon hide behind cloud, no wan see wahala.

Dem still leave the muzzle for him face, so he no go harm me.

One guard even double-check say e tight well. For palace, nobody trust Garba Musa’s teeth.

Both hands chained, kneel for my bed foot.

He kneel proper, but his back still straight. Even in chains, his pride dey intact. Palace girls dey peep through door crack, dey pray make wahala no happen.

He never chop or drink water since morning.

His lips dry, his stomach flat. Even I notice the hollow for his cheeks. Palace no dey treat prisoner well, especially enemy prince.

When water drop slide for his cheek, he swallow, tongue dey lick him lips.

His eyes dey sharp, dey beg for water but his mouth no fit talk. The sound of his dry throat loud for quiet room.

He look up at me, always dey look me from top.

Even though him dey ground, him pride never fall. I feel the heat for his eyes, na war and hunger dey burn there.

Garba Musa’s gaze darken, he turn face away.

He no wan show weakness. I dey smile—he dey try hide, but I sabi say inside him, na fire dey burn.

Even his dark skin no fit hide the strange blush wey dey climb him face.

I surprise. All the strength, all the fight, but still, one blush. I almost laugh. Maybe na shame, maybe na small excitement.

When he look back, Garba Musa raise him sharp brows.

For his eyes, na one kind challenge. "You think say you fit win me?" Na the silent talk. I dey enjoy the drama.

His amber, stubborn eyes full of contempt and mockery.

He no dey hide him hate. For palace, nobody talk to me like that. My chest dey swell with pride—this one na real battle.

He sneer, his voice deep and rough: "Noble Eldest Princess, no be you say make I serve you tonight?"

Even with dry throat, his voice strong. Palace boys dey whisper, "E still get mouth, o!"

"Why you never do anything? You dey fear me?"

He dey push me, dey look for fight. Na pride dey talk, but I enjoy am.

"You dey fear say I go find chance take revenge, kill you?"

I smile, my mind dey sharp. Na true talk—if I loose guard, my head fit roll.

[She no dey fear say you go kill am, na say you go knack am die she dey fear.]

Palace girls dey whisper, dey laugh for corridor. My own face still dey hard, but I dey blush small inside. Wetin I go do now?

I stand up, grab the chain for Garba Musa’s wrists, yank am hard.

My body strong, my grip no soft. He fall, but he no cry. I feel my own heart beat, but I still dey in charge.

No support, he fall for soft rug.

The rug dey thick, red colour. The blood from his chest soak am, leave dark patch. I step on am, no mind stain.

The wound for his chest tear open again.

Blood dey flow, but Garba Musa no shout. Na real warrior blood dey him vein. Palace guards dey peep, dey shake head.

Blood stain the rug deep red.

For my mind, I dey think—"This room go need new carpet." But I no show am. Power first, cleaning later.

I step on his back, my voice cold and royal:

The pressure make him grunt, but he no beg. My voice loud: "Na so servant suppose talk to princess."

Garba Musa’s face pale, chest dey shake, but he still laugh: "Eldest Princess, you never chop?"

Even for pain, his mouth no dey rest. Palace boys dey laugh under breath.

"Na all this strength you get? Na this one be your best?"

He dey provoke me, dey look for my anger. Na real battle of spirit.

[Lol, abeg do fast make he enjoy, the guy dey hold himself.]

[Villainess sis, stop to dey beat am, you dey reward am—slap am, he go even lick your hand…]

[Wicked villainess, shift commot. Why una dey ship this kind? You no see say male lead dey bleed?]

[She dey bully and disgrace am now, but wait—when male lead lead him army, he go burn your city. I wan pay in advance to see your downfall.]

The gossip dey fly, even my own loyal servant dey worry. "If he escape, wahala go full palace."

He go destroy my land, even burn the city.

My heart cold small, but my face still hard. I dey think of future—will this pain return? Or will my power last?

The smile for my lips turn cold.

I dey show face, but my mind dey calculate. Na chess we dey play—who go make last move?

I bend down, one hand grip Garba Musa’s strong neck, the other remove his muzzle.

The strap dey tight, but my hand steady. For one moment, his breath dey mix with my own. Palace guards dey tense, ready for anything.

One sharp sneer flash for his dark, bloodshot eyes.

His teeth sharp, his eyes sharper. "You think say you fit win?" Na silent challenge.

"Eldest Princess, which new disgrace you wan try again?"

His voice low, but na real threat. My body tingle, but I no show fear.

"Anything you do me, I go remember…"

Na promise, na warning. The air cold, but my hand still dey his neck.

"You better remember." I look down at am, laugh cold.

I no show mercy, my laugh wicked. "If you survive, talk am for your people."

My fingers press his dry lips, already cracked from thirst.

The blood dey show, red and fresh. My finger linger—palace girls go faint if dem see.

When I see blood start for his lips—

My heart beat fast. For this moment, na real risk I dey take.

I bend down.

For palace, dem go call am abomination. But I no care. Na me hold power, na me decide.

Inside Garba Musa’s shaking eyes, I kiss am.

His lips taste of iron and sweat, sharp like bitter leaf, but I press on—make palace wall bear witness. His body stiff, then relax. The taste of blood, sweat, and pride dey mix. For my mind, na battle I dey win, but for my heart, I feel small fear.

WhatsApp comments burst:

[She just kiss am like that—how dem wan be enemies again?]

[Villainess sis sabi tame wild dog—one slap, one kiss, you don hook the male lead. How he wan look that gentle heroine again?]

[Villainess too dirty, I vex! She dey play with all these men—how she go kiss male lead? Make she die quick!]

My phone dey hot, but my body dey hotter. I raise my head, give wicked smile—let them talk. Na me be villainess, na me hold the world.

I look up, give one wicked smile to where the words dey come from.

I dey imagine the faces for all the palace girls gossip group. My smile dey sharp, like blade.

I be the real villainess—why I go spare male or female lead?

Na my story. If I no cause wahala, who go remember my name? The only joy na to see dem beg and cry.

Na when I see them bleed and cry I go happy.

For palace, only power dey bring respect. Love na small matter. For my mind, the world dey under my foot.

I grab the chain for Garba Musa’s wrists, deepen the kiss, no give am chance to resist.

The chain heavy, but my hand dey strong. For his eyes, na mix of hate and confusion. I dey win, but at what cost? My own chest dey tight, but I hide am.

After long time—

The oil lamp dey burn low. The air smell of sweat, blood, and small jasmine. Outside, night dey deep.

I rise up lazily, enjoy the way his eyes dey mix hate with dilated pupils and rough breathing.

He dey pant, but him pride never die. I dey smile, enjoy my own small victory.

"E don do…" I chuckle softly.

My voice low, but my heart dey race. For palace, my word na law. I fit feel eyes dey watch from the wall, but I no care.

Chin up: "Lie down for bed—come serve me."

My order be final. Even if tomorrow bring war, tonight, power still dey my side. For palace, for kingdom, for my own heart—na me dey rule the night. But as the lamp wan die, shadow for corner long—maybe power no dey last reach morning.

Tonight, I go test his spirit—and if e break, na my victory. If e no break, wahala go start.