Late

Chapter Ten

You sat looking out the window at the sunset, it was beautiful. They were all beautiful. Every night you sat in this spot. Five days ago, they took the restraints off. When they did you were much calmer. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't eaten in a while and were weak or if you were genuinely calmer. Since then you just sat here and watched the sunrise and sunset.

Your thoughts were no longer erratic, they didn't jump from wanting to ride his face to wanting to cut off his dick. No, they were a lot calmer. They were strictly on strategy. You needed a strategy to get out of this room, needed a plan. You'd tried to find any way out the room, the windows, they had those bolted, any secret passageways, there were none, shit you even tried to bribe the girls who brought you food daily. It was no use, everyone was loyal to their king. Everyone.

You'd come to terms that you wouldn't be able to leave using those tactics; you needed to approach it differently.

You heard the door open and close softly and chills erupted over your skin. It was him. The silence in the room stretched for long minutes. You smelled the food, it smelled delicious and it smelled like your favorite. Your stomach rumbled loudly. You rolled your eyes at your body betraying you, yet again.

"Please Y/N, I beg you, eat," T'Challa begged. You were starving but you were also stubborn. Very stubborn.

"I have your favorites, including the wine you like. Jollof rice and egusi soup, goat wat. I even had the cook add some of the chicken with the chutney you like. Its been specially made for you," T'Challa enticed further. Damn it. He brought the big guns.

You turned around, eyes looking to the food trey placed on the center table in the living area of your suite. This was a bribe you knew it, but your hunger was raging. You tore your eyes away from the food to look at him for the first time in a long time. He looked awful. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, as if he was sick. He looked as if he'd had a hard life rather than the pampered one of the son of a king and the prized prince of his country. You rolled your shoulders back and looked around noticing he was alone. Okoye and Ayo were not there. You raised an eyebrow and looked back at him.

"What do you want your majesty?" You formally asked. He breathed out.

"For you to eat," he answered. You rolled your eyes and looked to the wall.

"Y/N, this has gone on long enough."

"Has it? Are you sure? I can go for another two weeks. What about you?" You defiantly asked. He sighed again and sat down across from the center table. He rubbed his forehead and grimaced as if he felt pain.

"I've come to call a truce," he offered.

"A truce?" 

"Yes, I never wanted this Y/N." 

"Oh, I see, you were forced. The King of Wakanda, forced," you filled in. Your voice was laced with disdain, a disdain he caught. 

"All I wanted was for you to stay," T'Challa quietly admitted.

"You want me to stay and watch you marry someone, you want me to stay and watch you build a life, a family."

"There will be no family. I do not want any of that unless it is with you," he interrupted.

"What does that even mean?" 

"I have to marry Nakia. I cannot find a way around it. I haven't--I cannot let my father's legacy vanish. I cannot do this Y/N and you should never even try to elude me of differently," he said.

He was right. You knew how much his father's legacy meant to him. You knew being the honorable son he would never let the throne go to M'Baku, he would never let anyone besides an Udaku sit on the throne. You didn't feel sadness then, because you knew the man he was, the man T'Chaka raised. You breathed out.