Chapter 1: The Royal Decree

After my elder sister’s true love died, she decided to enter the king’s palace.

You know, for our side, if a woman loses her man, dem expect her to just gather herself quietly and move on. But Chioma, my elder sister, get too much fire for her body to just let her pain die inside. As dem dey talk, stubbornness dey run for her blood. Instead of hiding her heartbreak, she aimed higher—straight into the king’s palace. The whispers in Umuola market quickly changed from pity to envy; the smell of fried akara and palm oil hung in the air as women gossiped behind their baskets. Not everybody dey get chance to become Olori, the Noble Wife—even if it means her youth go finish among strangers and seasoned wives.

Once she became a favored wife, the first thing she did was to beg His Majesty to arrange a marriage for me.

Dem dey talk say blood no be water, but sometimes, na this same blood go pour sand for your garri. As she enter palace reach, she begin plan my future like say she wan wash her own heartbreak by dipping me inside royal wahala. For our compound, everybody sabi say Chioma sabi talk her way enter or comot any trouble. This time, she use her new position beg His Majesty for my marriage.

His Majesty asked, “She get person for her mind?”

His Majesty’s voice deep like River Niger, carrying all the tradition and pride of our ancestors. When king dey ask about your matter, e no be small thing. For palace, dem dey talk say Eze’s girls fine well, but if king ask about who dey your heart, e mean wahala fit land for you.

Elder Sister replied, “The second son of the Okoye family from Umuola get plenty talent; my younger sister dey always praise am.”

Chioma, with her honeyed tongue, answer sharp sharp, just use enough truth so thunder no go fire her. She sabi wetin she dey do. For our village, to praise man talent na one thing, to carry your sister destiny go palace dey another. She make am look like say I dey shout Okoye Chidi name for every corner of house.

Na so I receive the king’s decree, wey dem bestow me as main wife to the second son of the Okoye family.

The news land with full celebration—palace drummers beat their talking drums, and the town crier shouted my name through Umuola’s dusty streets. No running from king’s word for our side. The way my mama dey cry and papa just stand stiff for wrapper, I know say road don close. Neighbours dey peep from curtain, dem eyes sharp like knife for my back.

But Chioma sabi the person wey dey my heart na the third son of the Okoye family.

I swear, na who know your secret fit wound you pass. Chioma know. She know na Ifenna, the third son, dey fill my dreams, but she still let king tie my fate to another. The pain for my chest that day sharper than new razor wey dem just sharpen for blacksmith shop.