Chapter 5: Rivalries and Returns

I no really remember Ifedike like that. Too many chiefs get sons, I no fit remember all, talk less of Ifedike wey follow him papa go border since ten.

The palace always full of boys, sons of titled men sent to learn discipline. Ifedike, quiet and serious, faded into the background.

But as I think, memory flash: one big guy like wall, wey I jam, cry from pain.

I remembered my knee scraped, tears flowing. He bent to comfort me, awkward but sincere.

He try wipe my tears, but him sleeve scratch my face. I push am, use my own handkerchief.

He looked so lost, so eager to help but unsure how. I called him mumu, but the kindness in his eyes lingered.

He look so lost, but I just call am mumu, no vex more.

Now I realized how much courage it took for him to comfort a crying princess with all the elders watching.

Na that big guy be Ifedike?

My heart softened. Maybe I had misjudged him all these years.

He get keke, drive me go palace himself.

The ride was bumpy, the night breeze cool on my face. Ifedike’s hands were steady on the handle, focus absolute.

My brother dey wait for palace gate, face strong. I come down, hide behind Ifedike.

He stood tall, shielding me like iroko—nobody fit shake me.

Ifedike greeted my brother. "Your Highness, Crown Prince."

His tone was respectful, but he stood his ground, unafraid.

My brother’s voice was sharp. "Ifedike? Wetin you dey do with Zainab?"

The accusation stung, but Ifedike held firm.

I tugged Ifedike’s sleeve, not wanting my brother to know I’d been drinking.

He spoke quickly, words calm: "I meet princess alone outside. I worry for her safety, so I bring her back."

I peeped from behind him, met my brother’s stern eyes.

His gaze softened a bit. He nodded, accepting the explanation.

"Come here."

His voice gentle now, big brother more than crown prince. I obeyed, relief washing over me.

I walked out from behind Ifedike, went to my brother’s side. In front of people, he helped me save face, no more questions.

As we entered the palace, I remembered something and turned back.

The cool night air brushed my face. I saw Ifedike still standing, eyes on me.

He looked surprised as I turned, eyes shaking, then he smiled.

I ran to give him back his handkerchief.

He took it, fingers brushing mine. The contact lingered, a silent promise.

To leave restaurant with tears for face no good, so I use Ifedike handkerchief.

I dabbed my eyes, letting the soft cloth absorb my pain. Now I offered it back, grateful.

E plain, but the cloth soft, fine.

The simplicity spoke of his character—strong, unadorned.

Ifedike collected it, then said, "Princess, I fit see you again?"

His voice was hopeful, almost afraid. I nodded, heart lighter than before.