Hareti Jaja | Thirty
THEY LIVED IN THE SAME COLOR
___
Yarima's jealous eyes were inviting and endearing. Jealousy was a rarity with him. After the day I proclaimed him mine, he ceaselessly behaved as though my promises of loyalty were carved in stone. I found I was easily enjoying the waves of jealousy flashing across his face. The swaying crowd parted ways as I strode towards him, forming a straight path to where he stood.
"The chandeliers are magnificent," I said when I was finally under his gaze.
"Mhmm, the chandeliers."
"Yari–"
"Was that him?" He quirked a brow.
"Yes." I was grinning a little too much, the most I had grinned that night.
Eyes peered over shoulders, necks stretched in our direction. For the most part, Yarima and I's relationship never met the public eye, though much of it filled the gossip rooms of many high and low born citizens. Now they'd get to put a visual to all their assumptions. I suppose in many ways to count, there was satisfaction in that. In knowing they now saw us in the light. And they all knew he was mine.
"What do you think of him? Charming?" I asked, lightly poking his chest in amusement.
"He is not your type." His face was solid with his answer, but there was no hiding the playful jealousy in his eyes.
I faked a frown, pouting. "I don't have a type."
"Yes you do, Your Majesty."
"Ok, what is my type?"
"You're looking at it."
I snorted a quiet laugh. "You are one of my many types."
"Very flattering." He gulped down all of his wine in one go. "Nimah isn't one of your types."
"Yari you're– Nimah?" His name? "You know him?" I gaped.
"That's how I know he's not your type."
"How do you know him?" I pressed.
He shrugged. "Wouldn't you love to know, Your Majesty." He began to turn away and I hurried to the front of him.
"Abubakar!" I quietly scolded.
"Hareti!" He quietly scolded back.
"I asked a question."
"You're acting a little bit too desperate, Your Majesty. Besides, the love of your life is running away, you should go get him."
"I know where he is going, and you owe me an answer." I knew everyone Yarima knew, he shared every detail with me, even when I didn't ask. But not him? Not this... Nimah? "Have you been having an affair?"
"Hareti Jaja," he seethed.
"Have you?"
"That is preposterous."
"What do I not know?"
"The first dance of the night was supposed to be mine." His words accused, and striking me with guilt.
My shoulders relaxed, a little breath leaving me. "We will dance all night long, Yari."
"But it wouldn't be your first dance at a ball. That now belongs to someone else. We aren't even married yet and I'm already second."
"Yari..." I shook my head lightly. "This isn't a competition. Doesn't matter who comes first." I slid a hand over his elbow. "But, if it makes you feel any better, you will be crowned first. And after that, we'd dance all night."
He stared at me softly for a time, then smiled with a boyish allure. "He is Obi Udume's servant."
"I sensed they were close–Oh!" My brows elevated when it all came together. "You know him because he serves the Adachis."
He nodded, freeing his elbow from my hold. "I'll leave you to your mingling."
"I have had my fill of it," I pulled him back, "let them sound the drums. I ache to see you in my crown."
We held each other's gaze with kindness and my heart fluttered. Many years I dreamt of holding his arms and dancing under flaming chandeliers with my crown on his head, and now the hour had come.
The drums sounded at midnight and by the end of the hour, Yarima was crowned prince, and then we shared a million pleasantries and a more million sways under flaming chandeliers. It was enchanting. He was enchanting. There was a beauty to the way Yarima moved with a crown. As though he's been born to wear it.
Until the stars fell, we danced. Then we were running through the tall mountain hallways of the palace with our crowns in our hands to a place no one's eyes would reach, as our lips found each other. He lifted me off the ground until we made it to the meadows, a few yards behind the palace. We fell and rolled in the flowers and grass with giggles. Yarima poked fun at the shrewd elders and their customs, and I poked fun at the high borns and their pretentious nobility. Our humor was cut from the same cloth.
By the time our chests began to ache from the laughter, I was on to top him, kissing him once again, but this time slower. My left hand gripped his jaw, holding his face in place as I kissed his cheeks, then nose, then his eyes, his right hand slowly loosening my brocade, while the left squeezed my thigh. I spread my legs wide enough as I lowered my wet self to his crotch, allowing his hardness press against me. We touched and I whimpered, then slowly began rubbing myself against him. We both exhaled into our mouth, neither of us eager to be naked. We liked ourselves like that. Surrounded by the smell of morning dew, grass and the soft touch of breaking dawn.
I quickened my hips a little bit more against his crotch, his bulge rubbing my clit evenly the more I leaked into my underwear, soaking it with every minute. Breathless, he cried a quiet moan. "Hareti..."
"Yarima..." We moaned, breathing steadily until I paused to look into his eyes, the first light of morning pouring into his brown eyes.
"You're going to fall in love with him," he said, a little breathless. "You looked at him... the way you look at me." His eyes were still drunk from my kisses. "I'm afraid," he muttered.
"Of what?"
"One day, you will see only him."
I kissed him, our lips smacking loudly as we separated. "Me and you, Yari... We live in the same color."
I rubbed his cheek and he smiled a little, then his gaze trailed to the sun, making him squint. I let my body drop on his, my nose rubbing his cheek.
"What if he doesn't like me?" he asked.
"Nimah?" He nodded an answer to my question. "Who wouldn't?"
His gaze moved back to mine as his hands gripped my waist. "You said he worships the goddess Ala." I nodded and smiled. "They are prudish about these things. What if he feels trapped?"
"He'll have time to change his mind." I ran a finger over his right brow, then began to lift myself, until I was comfortably seated on him, watching his eyes glimmer at me as they slowly closed. Tired. Pure. Mine.
It was silence between us for a time as we held hands. The flowers waving around us, the cool morning breeze, the chirping sounds, the singing birds. I stared at him minute after minute, believing he was drifting to sleep when his hands began to reach for me, gently tugging at the helm at my brocade. I giggled.
"Please..." he whispered.
I reached for it and lifted it over my head, leaving the wrapping that held my breast together. I never took it off myself when he needed my breasts. It was something Yarima loved to do, and oh... how deeply I loved to watch him. His fingers were delicate with the fabric. His eyes would constantly travel from my breast to my face in search of one thing or the other. So I let him. I let him every time.
He gently pulled the last knot while our eyes remained locked on each other, and the fabric released its hold on my chest, falling away to let him wonder at my breasts, as though he hadn't seen them for years.
"You can't touch," I said. "We are waiting till our wedding night, remember?"
He swallowed and nodded, still gawking at my breasts as they hung free in the warm morning air.
"Do you remember that day, at the military cabinet I told you I had a moment...with a boy?"
"Mhmm." I nodded.
His gaze trailed from my breasts to my face. "It was him. Nimah."
"It was?" I asked calmly.
"He has magic."
"I know."
"There is something about his magic, Reti."
"What about it?"
"It feels like yours."
"It does?"
"It called out to me, the way yours did the first time I touched you. I find it strange, of all people, he was the one you chose."
I shrugged a little, my breasts slightly moving as his eyes fell back to it. "No one has magic like mine, Yari. There is a possibility he has the ability to bond with another, and that called out my magic in you."
"Possibly." He swallowed, his cock once again growing hard against my clit. "I... I thought you should know."
I looked to the sun, now bright orange in the sky, illuminating the green grass and white flowers surrounding us. "Thank you."
He exhaled and was quiet for a time before asking, "Did you lactate while I was across the seas?"
"Once," I replied, my eyes drifting back to him. He groaned, falling back into the grass and I giggled softly. "It was barely anything."
"Who helped?"
I shook my head. "I was barely full. Maybe in a few months." It was silent again as we watched each other.
"Can I suck on it through your dress? Just a little." He made the 'small' gesture with his fingers. "Mmh? A little?"
"Yari..." I softly called, holding his face by the chin. "Behave."
He pouted and then a long sigh as he reached for my clothes to dress me back. "We should go get your future husband."
I made a face. "Shut up."
We both laughed.
***
While the rest of the rest of the capital city of Ara went to sleep from a long night of dancing and drinking at the ball, Yarima and I, alongside the customary elders, whom by the laws of the land needed to be present when a new royal was crowned, journeyed to the Adachi residence and were welcomed with bowed heads and beaming smiles.
"Your Majesty, it is a great honor to welcome to you our humble abode," Chief Adachi said. "To what do we owe his astounding honor?"
"There is a man in your home who must wear my crown," I replied, my eyes trailing to a now smiling Udume. "The one they call, Nimah. Where is he?"
The smiles on their faces began to fade. "Nimah?" the Lolo asked.
"Yes."
The room remained silent for a time. "He is tending to the garden, Your Majesty," a servant spoke humbly into the silence.
"Bring him to me," I said and she began to turn away.
"Wait," Yarima called. "Do not inform him it is the Queen who seeks his presence." The servant girl nodded and continued into the house. "He is quite skittish," Yarima whispered to me.
"Ah. True."
We stood in silence as we awaited his arrival. There was dissonance in the air, the Chief and his wife appeared afraid, while a disgruntled Udume kept his gaze on Yarima. I didn't lift my gaze to Yarima see whether stared stared back, but I sensed he was staring, too. I supposed there were words left unsaid between them that were not mine to hear. It was a while before we heard footsteps walking down the hallway and we all turned to the entrance, my heart quickening. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped.
"Straight ahead, Sir," a royal guard in the hallway said.
The footsteps resumed slower, until it was at the door. I swallowed and held my breath when I caught a glimpse of his head poking in. He sharply withdrew his head at the sight of us.
"Nimah," Yarima called.
Another second lingered, then another before he made his way in. When my eyes fell upon him, my stomach ruptured into pieces. A few hours prior when he stood before me, there were scars across his arm, fading healing scars. But now, I could barely see his eyes. They were swollen and blue, his lips bursted open here and there, both cheeks bleeding. He fell to his knees and my eyes followed the dangling of his left hand. It was broken.
Yarima's hand rested on my lower back, like he could feel the rage sizzling underneath my stone exterior. If his touch was not on me, perhaps, there would have been no taming what I felt. It would've exploded, taking with it all who stood in the common room of the Adachi residence.
I began towards him slowly, the smell of something rotten coming from him as I approached. I hoped it wasn't his wounds getting infected. The healing process, even with magic, would be exceedingly painful once an infection began to spread. One could see the magic burn right through it, and I didn't want to inflict anymore pain on him.
He had enough. I was sure of it.
"Be on your feet, Nimah," I said softly. He remained, quivering. I saw the goosebumps spread across his face, the shiver on his skin. He was afraid. "Nimah," I called again, too harshly from the anger that was not for him.
He began to rise, wobbling a little when he tried putting more pressure on his right foot. That was broken, too.
"You will make a fine king," I said with a tenderness as I lifted his crown of bones and cowries to his head. He shuddered backwards, bewildered. "It's okay, Nimah," I whispered, feeling a bit helpless.
My tone was not calm enough to be comforting. I wasn't really good at giving comfort either. I had broken a lot of things in my life, but fixing things was a skill I was not gifted with at the time. It was never needed with Yarima. If anything, he fixed me.
Yarima walked over, took the crown from me, and gently placed it on his head, making sure it sat perfectly before stepping back with a smile. A smile. I hadn't smiled since I walked into the room, that was comforting.
"Your highness," Yarima said to Nimah and his eyes wandered backwards, searching for something, or maybe someone before turning back to us.
I turned around and faced the Adachis, "Who is responsible for the crowned prince's injuries?" I asked, my voice reaching its lowest octave. It was silent, the answer not forthcoming. But I didn't need it to be. My eyes trailed across their bodies in search of bruised knuckles capable of inflicting injuries. When it landed on Chief Adachi's hands, he attempted to hide it behind his back. But I had seen enough.
"Him." I pointed at the Chief.
"Your Majesty, I–" Chief Adachi began. Why do the guilty only seek forgiveness when they are caught? Pathetic.
"It is treason to threaten the crown and you have done so."
Chief Adachi fell to his knees. "Great ruler of—"
"In the name of the crown, and the great Goddess, Oshun. I sentence you to death."
Comfort might not have been a skill I was well versed in. But Justice... Justice, I knew all too well.
***
Chapter thirty! We are officially half way through this book!
I think it should move faster now with more romance coming into play than politics, I know it has felt a bit slow. I'll try and power through. Wish me luck.
Thank you for reading and see you on the next chapter beautiful people.