Way of The Pride

9| The Secret

Image of Agada^^

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It was hot.

Despite the calmness of the sun the afternoon was still warm enough to send people seeking for the solace of a shade, the kind of weather that made grown men flee to the shelter of their homes. Even the King was not left out. He too had taken to the comforts of his Obi, seeking a moment's respite from its harshness.

Reclined comfortably on the chair sat the King in his majestic glory. His eyes were closed, head thrown back in deep thought. As someone privileged to spend years in service of the King, Iweobi was privy to things that only few noticed. The heavy burden that came with shouldering the responsibilities of Isimir's safety, the sacrifices he made for the benefits of the people and the fear of failure that constantly filled his heart with worry - the failure of being a good King.

Isimir was truly blessed to have a King whose life purpose was dedicated to the welfare and happiness of his people. The King's happiness was his. Iweobi was the shield that protected him from danger and the sword that carried out his will. He lived only to serve the King and protect his interests.

Yet..

Memories of last night came to mind. Mma. The abominable words she said in confidence had stolen his peace of mind and he had remained in a troubled state ever since. The secret he carried was capable of destroying the very foundation of Isimir. Why then did he hesitate?

Because of his King.

Indecision plagued his mind, weighing consequences against merit. Should he reveal the truth to the King and risk hurting him or should he bury the truth forever to protect Isimir? How exactly was he supposed to protect the King's interest when faced with such a catastrophic problem?

''-is she?''

What should he do?

''Iweobi!''

The King's voice startled him from his thoughts as he looked down at a pair of irritated eyes squinting at him.

''Yes, My King.''

''Did you not hear me?''

Was he that lost in his thoughts? He needed go get a hold of himself before the King got wind of his woes.

''Forgive me, My King. My thoughts laid elsewhere.''

The King's eyes brightened. ''What or shall I say who is the cause of your distraction?''

Feigning confusion, he wore a blank expression. ''I do not understand what you mean, Your Majesty.''

''I know when a man has woman troubles, you have that look on your face and for goddess sake sit down. My neck aches from looking up at your sour face.''

He obediently sat down on the golden stool offered to him. The impact of his words sent his already troubled heart beating like a man on the run. Restlessness bloomed inside him as he found himself unable to stand tall in the King's presence, too ashamed to speak freely.

If only he knew how true his words rang.

''Your Majesty, I have no woman.''

''Ahh, to be young and foolish again.'' The King sighed wistfully, his hands moving to caress his greying beard.

"Do I detect a tone of regret, My King?"

Iweobi immediately stood at the sound of the soft, regal voice. His head, lowering in respect to a royal presence.

"My Queen."

The Queen of Isimir calmly entered the Obi, royal anklets clinking with each purposeful step as the scent of wild flowers trailed after her braided hair. An air of ease surrounded her as she stood before the King beautifully adorned in her royal garments.