Three days passed like wind after Moremi's coronation and the palace was finally returned to its tranquil position.
Moremi had been confined to her chambers by her father as punishment and he made sure she did not get to see Nyala or Akan throughout these three days.
"Is my father still in his chambers?" Moremi asked Ayanna while she dressed her up.
"I believe, my princess. No one has seen him outside since this morning." She answered as she styled the princess's hair.
"What about Nyala and Akan?" She asked once more and Ayanna locked eyes with her, giving her a silent curt nod as if letting her know that whatever task she had been asked to perform was carried out successfully.
Of course, just because Moremi was restricted from leaving her chambers didn't mean she couldn't make sure they were taken care of.
She still saw to it that Akan was well fed in the dungeon and Nyala was treated properly at Maa Kheru, thanks to Ayanna.
However, that didn't erase the boredom she felt, being locked in these chambers.
Knowing Moremi loved to be active and doing, Jelani had concluded that keeping her confined in her room was enough punishment for her.
And it was true.
She had been completely restless the whole time, trying to find something worthwhile to do, but to no avail, as there was barely anything of interest to her that she could find in this room.
Moreover, this punishment would last a whole week. She was sure that if she stayed in this place any longer, she would go crazy.
It was no news that she had absolutely no interest in womanly things, else confining her indoors would barely be a punishment to her.
"I want you to do one more thing for me, Ayanna." She turned from the dresser to look directly at her maid and could see the bit of confusion that was etched on the girl's face.
"What more shall I do for you, my princess?" She asked in a low voice, her face lowered.
Moremi sighed for a moment as she felt her heart skip a beat thinking of what she was about to tell Ayanna to do for her.
The last time she tried this, it had been a disaster. A total disaster and it would be unwise for her to do it again.
But would she go for it regardless? She thought and the obstinate part of her heart gave her the answer.
Yes.
She turned to Ayanna, "The guards."
____
A few kilometres away, in Azura near the harbour where the Azuran villagers fished, some men stood around a boat, unloading their catch and preparing for the next round.
They sorted the fish they caught, and they bantered amongst each other in their local tongue.
"These fish no dey get weight again," one of the fishermen grumbled, tossing a flapping tilapia into the wooden basket at his feet. "Last market day, I swear they cheated me. All that work, and I barely feed my children."
"Na your trap be the problem, Lato," another replied, pulling his net tighter. "You no see as your net old? Even the fish go dey laugh when dem see am."
The others burst into soft laughter, their bare feet sunk in the wet, grainy shore. The morning sun hadn't yet fully risen, and the water still held the cold breath of the night. Small boats rocked gently nearby, and gulls circled overhead, waiting for scraps.
Everything was normal.
Until it wasn't.
Lato was the first to stop laughing. He turned slowly, his hand tightening around his net.
"Wait—una de see that thing?"
The others followed his gaze.
At first, they thought it was cloud. But no—it was too dark, too solid. They held their breaths in anticipation as they waited to see what was coming.
And then, rising out from the horizon were three of them.
Three massive ships.
Towering above the water like mighty beasts. Their hulls shone like polished bone made of black steel.
Strange flags with silver serpent snapped in the breeze around a spear.
The symbol sent a ripple of fear through the fishermen's bones as they knew exactly which set of people these were.
No other kingdom owned such ships. It had to be those abominable white men.
"By the gods..." one whispered, feeling his knees turn weak.
The ships glided toward shore, silent but powerful. It was like the sea carried them on its own will.
And then the smell reached them—metal and smoke, sharp and unnatural.
"White devils!!!" Lato yelled as he dropped his net, alerting other villagers near the sea as he and his fellow fishermen scrambled to gather their nets and flee.
"White devils! Run!" Another shouted.
Of course, they knew what these men came to do. It was not the first time these people had approached Azura's shore since their king had formed alliances with them.
They carried helpless people along with them and it was no telling what happened to such men.
For the rulers? They were opportunity.
But for the commonmen? They were a nightmare.
"Run!" He screamed in panic and by the time the first sheep reached the dock, not a single soul remained there.
But they didn't run far.
"Oh, George. It appears we've made quite the impact on 'ese people," one of the white men on the ship commented as he dropped a pair of binoculars he'd been holding earlier to know how close they were to shore.
"Doesn't mat'er," George, who had been quiet the whole journey finally turned to his friends. "We just need to get as much slaves as we can back to Valencia." He replied.
With skin pale as sand, they were all dressed in shirts and cravats along with dark trousers and gloves.
Captain George accompanied his with a high waistcoat as his soft blonde hair blew with the morning breeze. He held a small flask containing a liquid which he poured in his mouth before capping it.
The others wore top hats and sashes as they secured the three ships while the others began to unload the cargos.
George was the first to drop down as he sauntered away from the water to dry land, his boots crushing the sand with authority.
His face was unreadable, mouth hard, eyes scanning around like a hawk.
No one needed to be told he was clearly the leader.
He turned to the others who had also touched down, "C'mon, let's go. The Azuran prince should be awaitin' our arrival." He said in a bit of haste.
And he was not wrong.
In the palace a few miles away, Yovana was beyond excited to hear the good news—they had arrived.
"I hope you've gathered plenty of slaves to sell, Baraka. I intend to make a lot of gold and silver today." The arrogant prince smirked as he rubbed his hands together questioning the man beside him.
"Yes, Your Highness." The Azuran man replied with a bow. "I've picked the finest specimens this time around. Captain George should have no cause for complaints." He explained as they neared a group of huts, housing people of different ages and sizes.
Men. Women. Even children.
"I see..." Yovana's smile widened seeing the people as he took in their appearance. They looked pale as expected. They'd been caged in there for some time with barely a thing to eat.
"And about our plan?" He turned completely to face the man this time, his earlier smile dropping and Baraka, immediately understanding what he meant, nodded but said nothing.
It was as if his eyes was what spoke instead.
"It is in motion, Your Highness. I made sure of that." He answered in a whisper.
"Good. You can go." Yovana said with a wave of his hand, dismissing him.
Just then, Baraka turned around, raising his arm to show the exact same tribal mark Moremi had seen that day she encountered the slave traders.