‘There is no one I would rather do this with, Alawani.’
There was nervousness in the air, a feeling of excitementmixed with apprehension. For so long, they’d been dancing around their feelings, uncertain of where they stood with each other. But now, as they gazed into each other’s eyes, L’?r? knew that she’d been right to fight for him. This was worth fighting for. He was worth holding on to forever.
Maybe it was his eyes that glowed with pleasure. The way his body moved against hers or the way her name sounded like a song on his lips. All her fears melted away in the heat of his presence. She loved him and wanted to show him how much he meant to her. She said it with her touch, her kiss, the swing of her hips. Everything she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to. That night, she said it all through deep moans and shallow breaths. Nothing was left unsaid.
The next morning L’?r? woke up to frozen fingers and stiff legs again. Àlùfáà-Àgbà had kept his promise and tormented her with images of her broken father every time she closed her eyes. He terrified her but she didn’t lose her nerve now that she knew he wanted her alive.
She rolled out of bed and walked over to the bathing chamber in a corner of the room, and she was glad that she had fetched buckets of water the night before. She’d need every drop. She was still sore in the place she had taken him in – she had never done that before, and it couldn’t have been any more perfect. As the bowls of water streamed down her body, memories of the night before washed over her, and she could feel the tingling sensation she’d become quite familiar with running throughout her body.
Everything was perfect for a few moments longer until the loud bang at the door startled her. She rushed out of the bath to find Ìyá-Idán, her voice thundering as she hurled a bowl of water at Alawani. He leapt out of bed.
‘Downstairs! Now!’ Ìyá-Idán shouted and stormed out of the room.
Alawani dressed hurriedly, and L’?r? did the same, trying to fit one leg after the other into their pants. Alawani tripped and fell, and L’?r? burst out laughing.
‘Don’t make me count!’ Ìyá-Idán shouted from the stairs.
L’?r? covered her mouth, still snickering. Alawani winked at her and led the way out of the room. When they reached the dining table, Ìyá-Idán was still fuming.
They sat across from each other on either side of the woman whose frown grew deeper with every passing moment. Finally, she said to L’?r?, ‘I warned you.’
Alawani stepped in, ‘It was me that –’
Ìyá-Idán raised a hand to silence him without even looking at him.
‘I know your father must have taught you better than this. Better than whoring yourself –’
Alawani cut in, ‘I love her!’
L’?r? gasped. Love. The corners of his lips twitched into a quick smile. ‘I love her,’ he said again, smiling at her, and somehow, everything else paled compared to that moment.
The woman hissed loudly, breaking the moment they shared. ‘You cannot love an Àlùfáà,’ she said to L’?r?. ‘Trust me, I speak from experience. No good can come from this. Of that, I am sure. I know ?niìtàn told you as much. There’s no way he would approve of this nonsense.’
‘IwasÀlùfáà. Not anymore. I’ve rejected the call. I left,’ Alawani countered.
‘Once an Àlùfáà, always an Àlùfáà,’ Ìyá-Idán leaned in as if the louder L’?r? heard the words, the sooner she would be convinced. ‘He accepted the call. His powers are dying. He’s been to the Red Stone. Do you think the gods let go so easily? They will come for what is theirs.’
‘I am not theirs. I left. I chose her. I choose her, and I will remain at her side.’
‘Then why did you accept the call at all, Prince of Oru?’ Ìyá-Idán said.
‘Why do you hate me so much? You don’t even know me,’ Alawani asked her.
For the first time, L’?r? noticed as Ìyá-Idán’s turban slipped backwards slightly that she had full lines of her tribal marks on her temples. She had three short vertical lines over three short horizontal lines, which meant she was an indigene of Ìlú-Idán. L’?r? studied them. She noticed that the horizontal lines looked newer, fresher somehow. They hadn’t darkened into the woman’s skin the way the top lines had. L’?r? knew only one thing strong enough to make someone change their home state and alter their birth tribal marks.
‘Is that what happened with you and Baba-Ìtàn?’ L’?r? said. ‘Did he break your heart when he accepted the call to be Àlùfáà?’
She’d mulled over it ever since meeting Ìyá-Idán. Who this woman was to her father. Why they both said each other’s names with tears and broken hearts. They must have been lovers once before.
Ìyá-Idán leaned back in her seat. ‘He broke many things, and just like your prince, the oaths they swear to their Holy Order are the most important thing to them in the world. So this thing you think you have here, this love,’ she said the word with disgust, like it tasted bitter in her mouth, ‘forget it and move on with your destinies. Nothing good comes from one touched by the Red Stone.’
L’?r? and Alawani stared at each other for a while, only breaking eye contact when L’?r? said, ‘I’m sorry that my father hurt you, but that’s not what is happening here. I’ve known Alawani my whole life, and I believe him when hesays he loves me.’ She turned to him. ‘Because I love him too.’ She reached for Ìyá-Idán’s hand and held it. ‘I know you want to protect me, but I risked my life for him. So please trust me, trust us.’
‘Pack your bags. You leave once the sun sets tomorrow,’ Ìyá-Idán said, pulling her hand out of L’?r?’s. ‘Just remember that if he can forsake his gods, he can forsake you.’ She angrily slammed the door behind her as she stormed out of the room.
Alawani moved over to her. ‘She’ll come around,’ he said, pulling her up from the chair and embracing her.
‘I hope so,’ L’?r? said quietly, eyes still fixed on the door.
