Chapter 9: The Trap

Musa enter palace go beg for wedding leave, but he no come back. I stand for door with lantern, na im small keke sedan come. Small fine voice call me—clear say na palace person.

Lantern dey flicker for breeze, fear dey grip my chest. I dey count Musa step, dey pray say nothing bad happen. Na small keke stop, the driver wear palace cloth, voice soft.

“Madam Musa, Lord Musa drink for palace. Abeg, come carry am.”

I cover my face, dey worry. “My husband no dey drink like that. Why he go drunk now?”

Eunuch laugh small. “I no know, madam. I only know say if you no come carry am, he no fit come back.”

Na palace code, you no fit argue. If them want you, them get way. My heart dey drum, hand dey shake.

As he talk, he show coral bead pendant—na Musa own. I hold my lantern, freeze. E be like time stop, or maybe na just second, before I hear my own voice say, “Make we go.”

The coral bead na sacred thing, no ordinary man dey get am except you dey close to king. As I see am, I know say this matter big pass wedding.

I no fit let am lose work and life because of me.

If anything happen to Musa, na me cause am. So I follow quietly, dey recite prayer for inside mind.

The person wey wan see me no be Queen Mother, na Aisha. The fine princess look innocent, but as she see me, disappointment full her face. She no know me—she no sabi say na me live sixteen years of her life for her.

Aisha eye sharp, she resemble her papa. As she look me up and down, I see small pity, but more vex. Na as if she dey wonder why fate gree give me her own years.

“So na you dem dey use shine for my place? Ordinary girl, you no even get royal blood.”

Her words sharp like new razor. For that moment, I feel like ground fit open swallow me. But I just lower my head, dey humble, because for palace, pride dey kill fast.

Dem cover my face, drag me commot palace.

Dem use wrapper tie my head, drag me through long passage, the air dey cold, my heart dey hot. The scent of camphor dey everywhere, I hear palace maid dey whisper Hausa proverb for background.

“How we go do am? To commot palace now no easy.”

One guard voice rough, but he dey fear small. I dey hear am as I dey count my step for darkness.

“Do am here. This palace big—one more body no mean anything.”

E pain me, but my mind dey ready. For palace, people fit disappear, story no go reach outside gate.

“Old Guest House dey empty. Dump her there.”

As I hear, my eyes open. Old Guest House na where I dey sleep before. So I don waka round, come back where I start?

My mind dey play trick—so na here my own wahala go end? I dey try find hope inside darkness.

“No be say that place dey forbidden?”

Guard voice dey shake. Everybody sabi say Old Guest House na place wey spirit dey play.

“Na why e easy to do am.”

Palace people sabi work; dem no dey waste time. For them, one order na enough.

“Abeg, hurry up!”

My leg dey weak, but I dey pray inside my mind, dey beg God and ancestors make dem fight for me.

Dem drag me, until smell of palm flower full my nose.

Na that smell dey remind me of home, of childhood, of all the things wey palace steal from me.

“We don reach!”

Guard voice sharp. Na so my heart begin jump again, but I just close eye, dey recite Psalm inside mind.

“Quick—drown her, bury her, make we finish!”

Next thing, water just cover me. My mind no gree die, I struggle, the palace boy—maybe him no sabi the work—let me break free.

Na so I fight with every strength wey I get. Water dey enter nose, but I dey kick, dey scratch, dey shout inside my soul, "God of my mother, abeg, no let me die for another person wahala."

“Who dey there?”

Familiar voice make me pause, but dem press me down again.

The voice sound like hope, but hand still dey my neck. I try shout, but water no gree.

“Why His Majesty dey here?”

Palace boy dey fear. I hear his voice shake like dry leaf. My heart dey beat fast.

“No wahala. His Majesty go soon commot. Hold her down, finish am.”

Palace logic—dem go do wetin dem plan, king or no king. For my mind, I dey search for miracle.

For one second, I dey confuse whether to shout or keep quiet. Until—

Na fear dey hold my throat, but I still dey find air. Sometimes, na one word fit save person life.

“Your Majesty, I don pluck the best palm flower. Thank you for your kindness!”

The sound hit me, like thunder for dry season. Na Musa voice—full of gratitude, full of life. My whole body dey shake.

That talk shake my heart, all my pain just rush out. I no think again—I struggle with all my power.

Na the voice dey carry me—give me strength wey pass my own. Hope just spark, even for inside darkness.

“Husband, abeg save me!”

Farouk body just stiff. He turn back, shock full him face.

The king look me, see the truth for my eye. For once, even him cold face show fear.

I stagger run go hug Musa.

My hand dey grab am, my whole body dey shiver. Musa dey hold me tight, eyes dey red. All the palace, all the pain, dey melt for that hug.

“Husband, abeg save me!”

Before Musa fit talk, one rough voice come from back: “Temi, na you be that?”

Inside that darkness, na Musa voice drag me back to life. For palace wey dey swallow people, love still get power.