A deep earthenware bowl filled with cool, fragrant water had been set for me. It had been a good amount of time, though it felt like a lifetime, since I had last truly found peace within these familiar walls of my late baba's compound. The short journey from the tumultuous throne room to this small, private sanctuary felt like an eternity, and each step was a heavy reminder of the chaos I had unleashed. I peeled off my ruined clothes, the fabric severly glued to my sweat-soaked skin.
Slowly, deliberately, I lowered myself into the water, the cool liquid a shock against my bruised skin. As the water lapped at my face, it touched the angry red mark on my cheek where the Sarkin Kano had struck me. I winced, the pain a sharp, unwelcome reminder of the violation. I ran my fingers through my thick, braided hair, trying to loosen the dust and the tension that had settled deep within my scalp. My hands moved to my arms, my chest, my legs, scrubbing furiously at my skin, as if trying to remove not just the grime of the journey, but the invisible stains of blood that had surely latched onto me when I struck him. I needed to feel clean, truly clean.
But no amount of scrubbing could remove the question clawing at my heart—was I right? Or just desperate?
I closed my eyes, letting the water envelop me, but it did little to wash away the scenes replaying in my mind.
I saw the Sarkin Kano's sneering face, heard his chilling words about breaking the Masu Jikin Karfe, I felt the primitive surge of fury as my arm smashed the gourd on his head. Then, the sickening thud, the sudden silence, that horrifying realization. My panicked escape with Nala, the gruesome ride, the flash of the hyena's eyes, the bone-jarring impact of the branch. Each memory was vivid and disrupting my senses, silently placing a strong hold on my neck, choking me, leaving me breathless even in the quiet sanctuary of my bath. I had killed a king. And my kingdom now faced war because of it.
Stepping out of the water, The mid-morning sun beat against my skin as I moved through open courtyards, its usual warmth feeling alien against the cold knot of dread in my stomach. I intentionally avoided the path that would lead me past my grandmother's quarters, not out of disrespect, but from a desperate need for solitude. I couldn't bear to face Nana Afua's knowing gaze, One look and my mouth would come undone. I did'nt want to burden her with this fresh wave of calamity just yet. I just needed to be alone with the echoes of my actions.
I pushed passed the mats and settled on my pallet bed. Reaching for the familiar gourd of rich, coconut oil. Its earthy, sweet fragrance was usually calming, a small luxury I cherished. I poured a generous amount into my palm and began to rub it into my arms and legs, slowly, trying to soothe my trembling muscles and the chaos in my mind.
Just then, the woven mat at my door rustled, and my younger sister, Maimuna, slipped in, her arms laden with a tray of fresh fruits, warm bread, and a steaming bowl of fish stew. Maimuna, was still in the bloom of youth her wide-eyed innocence and youthful curiosity made her the epitome adoration of many. I watched as her lithe figure draped in a brightly patterned tunic dropped the tray on my three legged table before looking at me, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Amira! Oh, thank the spirits you are here!" Maimuna exclaimed, her gaze scanning her disheveled appearance.
"Here, let me help." She took the gourd, her nimble fingers were already reaching for my back.
I didn't resist since I was tired and needed the help. I leaned into my sister's touch, a wave of tenderness washing over me. "Thank you, little sister. And Nala, is she alright? Was she taken to the healers?"
"Yes, immediately!" Maimuna assured, her touch firm and comforting as she smoothed the oil onto my broad shoulders and down my back. "Captain Musa himself saw to it. He looked so worried. But you... you are well? The town crier came shouting for you, and then you were gone so soon and now you came back so suddenly, and then you were rushed to the throne room..." Maimuna's voice trailed off, her gaze full unanswered questions.
"What happened with the King of Kano? Amira, they say he's as rich as ten kings and as handsome as a spirit. Ah! You're so lucky to be his bride, how I wish it were me. But come, Why did you not stay for the wedding?"
I closed my eyes, biting back a sigh. How could I explain the betrayal, the humiliation, what that demon put me through and how he still haunts my thoughts, the primal rage of defending oneself against a monster, to this sheltered flower? Maimuna was still young, still lost in dreams of princes and admirers, she understood little of the harsh realities of the world beyond courtly whispers and the confines of the palace. Her hormones were likely still raging, and her understanding of life yet to extend beyond the simple joys of her friends and the admiration of young courtiers.
"Sometimes, Maimuna, two people are simply... incompatible. Even kings."
Maimuna giggled, dismissing the seriousness. "Incompatible? But how could any king be incompatible with you, Amira? You have Grandmother's fine, long hair," she said, running her fingers through my braids, "and Father's strong, ebony skin." Maimuna's eyes drifted lower, lingering for a moment on my breasts, clearly larger than her own. "And Mother's curvy features. Truly, you are the most beautiful in the kingdom." Her voice held a hint of jealousy, a familiar sibling dynamic that, despite the chaos, almost made me smile.
I gently took Maimuna's hands, changing the subject. "Thank you, little sister. Your words are kind. But tell me, has Idris been to the palace? Did he see Father?"
"Oh, yes" Maimuna said, her attention now diverted. "He was summoned almost as soon as you arrived. He sent me directly to check on you and bring you food, saying you must be utterly famished. He also said... Father looked deeply troubled. They are still in council."
My stomach tightened again, the brief moment of comfort vanishing. The council and their decision. My fate and that of Uzazzu. The weight of it all descended, crushing me.