Pride ✔️

02

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Kathleen yelled, dropping her tote bag onto the hotel bed aggressively.

"The queen of Asanteland?" Nick suggested dryly. He put his own bag on the adjacent bed and sat, running his hands through his permed hair. "What did you expect? They were on track to head back to their palace before our arrival delayed them, just to hear something they'd probably been hearing for months now."

"When I find their prince, they better prepare to pay me half their entire fortune! Just imagine! How dare she?"

Nick closed his eyes, wishing he could be anywhere but there at that moment. He hadn't wanted to come here, but as much as he detested Kathleen, she was smart. Very smart. She saw things most people didn't, and he knew that if there was anyone he could bet on to make a name for themselves, it was her. He didn't want to be left behind.

"I think you should get some sleep, so that by tomorrow, we can set out and start to investigate," he told her.

Kathleen sighed. "I guess you're right. The drive was tedious," she rolled her shoulders, frowning. "I'll just fill you in on all the details of everything once I'm done showering."

She quickly took a shower, dressed in her night clothes and sat at the hotel's desk with her notepad. Nick had fallen asleep before she could finish, so she resorted to jotting down her notes, instead of telling him.

The prince had gone missing seven months ago, in this village, Asokwa. He was the son of the Asantehene, but royal duties had brought him to the small village. He was supposed to have returned to the palace seven months ago. Unfortunately, no one could pinpoint the exact day he went missing, as he was a very independent person and didn't let his guards tail him like all royals should.

His parents regularly made visits to the village—taking over the Odikro's palace—where he was last seen, which is why they were there when Kathleen arrived.

So far, that was all anyone knew. That he'd disappeared. There was no record of who'd last seen him or anything of the sort. But Kathleen knew that someone would know something. They were probably just scared to talk about it. Maybe for fear that they be accused of something they didn't do.

Kathleen smiled and turned off her desk lamp. This was going to change her life. She just knew it.

* * *

The next morning came by quickly. By eight, the pair was dressed and ready to set off into the village to do their first round of questioning. Kathleen sported a fringed black wig that reached middle of her back, with a casual pair of shorts and a spaghetti strapped top.

The first person Kathleen came across was a beautiful young woman. She had dark skin and thick black hair. Her petite and curvy frame made her even more gorgeous. Kathleen didn't like her.

"Hi," Kathleen greeted.

The woman greeted back shyly. "Hello."

"I'm Kathleen, an investigative journalist from Accra. I'm looking into the case of the missing crown prince, and I'd like to ask you some questions."

The woman's eyes widened. She stepped back a bit and averted her gaze. "I don't kn—"

"Don't worry, it's just some routine questioning. You're certainly not a person of interest. I just want to know what he was up to before he disappeared."

She glanced back cautiously at Kathleen. "There wasn't much he did other than follow women. He wasn't anything like a crown prince should be."

Kathleen quickly jotted this down in her notebook. When she looked back at the woman, her eyes were wide once more, like she regretted what she'd said. "E-excuse me. I must go," she gathered her skirts and practically scurried away.

Even though it didn't seem like much, Kathleen was pleased. This was a small victory, probably something that was important for their case. Womanizing men who ended up missing were not uncommon, not in the books she'd read and the cases she'd searched.

A jealous third party, or even the lover herself could be responsible for the disappearance. The next step was to find who exactly the prince was involved with.

"Nicky!" Kathleen yelled, even though the man was standing right beside her. "Let's split up. I need you to find out which of these village women the womanizing prince couldn't keep his hands off. Capiche?"

The man rolled his eyes and began to move away from her as quickly as he possibly could.

The rest of the day, Kathleen interviewed so many women that she began to lose track. Most of them wouldn't say anything. You'd think the prince was a god, the way they were unwilling to sully his name. Those who dared to speak all said the same thing. The prince couldn't keep it in his pants.

She talked and talked until she felt like she was going to faint, until she gave up and took shelter underneath a mango tree. At this point, she was exhausted and ready to return to Accra. Hardly had she began to relax, when a man came to sit on the bench beside her.

He made a show of looking around, trying to seem as if he was not there to talk to her, but by his body language, she could tell something was up. She frowned and turned to him, "Hello." She said.

He shushed her furiously. "Shut up. Are you crazy?"

She turned away from him, equally angry. "You're the one who—"

"Shut up. Shut up! Meet me back here at midnight. Don't say a word to anyone else." And after saying that, he promptly stood and walked away hurriedly.

Kathleen sat quietly for a few minutes, and then she began to smile happily. In order not to forget, she took her phone and set an alarm for twelve midnight. Finally, things seemed to be looking up for her.