Inside Out, page 8
“I saved your dinner for you,” she says and places the tray on a side table while settling down at the edge of her son’s massive bed. She clears her throat, “Your dad told me he talked to you in the morning.”
“It doesn’t really matter what I think. It’s your decision,” he mutters and picks up his remote to click on his flat-screen TV on the wall.
“But it does, and I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the whole plan,” she apologises while still fixing him with a steady stare as though trying to find out more than he was saying.
“It’s okay. It’s none of my business,” he says, controlling the harsh tone itching to escape his throat.
“It is your business. You are our son, and this is your home. You are forced to share it with a strange woman.”
And just like that, the image he had been valiantly trying to forget flashes vividly through his mind again. This time his mother’s innocent comment about sharing his home with a strange woman gives his mind other ideas. He pictures sharing his bed with her. He groans and rubs his face with his open palm in apparent frustration.
“Are you sure you are okay? You seem really stressed,” his mother stands concernedly.
“I am stressed. Since Wofai isn’t around to help, I’m doing all the work,” he grumbles. The lie comes easily to him. No way is he telling his mother about his fantasies.
“Oh,” Jesam says sympathetically, arranging her face to show pity. She gave birth to this remarkable man. The queen knows her son revels in work. She already knows he will not be a stay-at-home king. However, she can’t fathom what is making him flustered and out of sort.
“Then I’ll leave you to relax then. I hope we’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow. We missed you today,” Jesam says, really ramping up the wistful note in her voice. It is one of the emotional blackmails every mother should have in her arsenal against her children.
Onen straightens at that tone, his eyes swivelling worriedly to his mother.
“Of course, Ma. I’ll be down for breakfast tomorrow,” he assures, wanting only for his mother to be happy.
She flashes him a smile and nods.
“See you tomorrow, sleep well,” she greets and slips out of his door soundlessly.
He stands there for seconds, lost in thought, but with a determined deep breath, he snaps out of it and completely divests himself of clothes, takes his bath and attacks his dinner.
***
Nkoyo can’t believe how she’s been treated. She might have been one of the workers for all the attention the queen gives her. She can’t believe the queen makes her re-wear her travelling clothes or the fact that her luggage has still not arrived. Additionally, the woman expects her to come down for every meal at the dining table.
She feels like a ghost during meals because the monarchs carry on with their conversations, totally ignoring her. Meanwhile, she funnels food into her mouth, wishing only to return to the sanctuary of the room. It has been a gruelling first day, and she doubts she’ll ever forgive her parents for this slight.
Her gaze catches the soft chiffon and the stains on it, and it occurs to her that she can wash the chiffon and dry it in front of the AC. However, she sniffs after a second, looks at her quite long artificial nails and discards the idea.
Settling comfortably on the bed, she searches her mind for pleasant thoughts to help her sleep, and the one that comes up is the picture of the handsome man she’d seen that morning. With a mental shrug, she gives up fighting the memory, and it lolls her into a peaceful slumber.
I wonder when this tale will unravel. Would the monarchs be able to change these young ladies from their natural inclinations and habits? I’m not saying. Let’s just enjoy the tale. How will breakfast be, though, at the Atam kingdom come morning?
9
Aha! Breakfast time…heads up - the princess Nkoyo is wearing her travel clothes for the third time consecutively, without washing. If only breakfast is just with the ‘old farts’ as Nkoyo has elegantly decided to address the king and queen of Atam kingdom. However, today, prince charming is coming along for the ride.
A quick summary of everyone’s thoughts would make this tale more interesting, so here goes.
As Nkoyo pulls down her clothes for the third time, she wrinkles her nose and shrugs her shoulders. She really would not give the monarchs the satisfaction of complaining about their ill-treatment of her. She believes that at some point, she’d go home. All she has to do is persevere stoically.
Thoughts of learning leadership and ruling seem far from her mind. She is living every hour by the ear. Now she just must go through another meal, shovel down food and return to the room. She knows the queen is waiting for an apology. The woman will wait a long time. Nkoyo is ready to play this game of superiority.
Liman follows his wife’s attitude. They don’t really have any formula for helping Nkoyo to the road of positive change. However, his wife had said one thing they could continue to do was be aloof with the princess until she learned the magic of sincere apology.
Jesam might have seemed sure of waiting Nkoyo out, but she cringes each time she watches the young girl repeat her clothes. She is convinced her own daughter would have waded through repeated clothes with no concerns. However, for someone used to being waited on hands and foot, Jesam pities the poor girl. But she also knows that she requires nothing less than an iron fist if they help her at all.
Onen already knows the lady from yesterday – the only object of his recent thoughts – would be at breakfast today. He feels in charge of his thoughts and emotions. In fact, Onen is sure that when he sees her this morning, dressed up and vertical, he’ll realize he’s been obsessing about a figment of his active imagination. The prince decides that he’d just been suffering from shock yesterday.
When he walks into the dining room, she pulls out the high back seat, ready to sit. Onen feels like he’s been punched in the gut when she looks up at him with startled eyes, wide enough to look cartoonish.
His step falters as their gazes hold for a second or two too long. Then Onen reins in his erratic emotions and shutters his expression, continuing determinedly to his seat at the table. He silently guesses his reaction clarifies the mix-up. This is no active-imagination obsession. The lady is dressed in a caftan. Deep down, he knows he’ll have the same reaction even if she dresses in a sack.
“Good morning,” he grumbles while taking his seat. Though he is pulled to her like a virile man to an attractive woman, self-preservation means keeping his feeling to himself. Therefore, Onen puts up a gruff front.
Nkoyo tingles all over when his voice reaches her ears. His deep, gravely tone quickens her pulse, making her hot all over. She isn’t happy about the reaction, mainly because he just gives her a cursory glance as though she means nothing to him.
She should mean something to everybody in this sodden kingdom. She silently gripes and is incensed that she lost her edge in this nowhere land. Nkoyo feels she should mean a lot to this man who stumbled into her life at the most embarrassing moment. She feels she deserves an apology or, at least, an acknowledgement of the scenario.
By the time she opens her mouth, she is seething with indignation. “We never got to that part yesterday,” she replies, sarcasm apparent in her expression.
Onen looks up to find her arrogant stare directed at him. Even though his heart flips at hearing her speaking voice for the first time, he maintains an insouciant attitude, his gaze holding disinterest. Dismay threatens to fill his heart that he could react sexually to her haughty tone. His body illuminates as though someone switched on floodlights under his skin. The crotch of his khaki pants tightens as his manhood swells embarrassingly. His pulse quickens.
He recognises that tone. It is the same one Nancy uses, which usually infuriates him. But apparently, not when this woman uses it. Onen is appalled that he doesn’t even know her name. Yet, his body blazes for hers.
“I’m Onen,” he says instead, shocking himself too at the spontaneous utterance. Suddenly the single most crucial thing becomes knowing her name.
Nkoyo chokes on her breath, thrown off her aim by his unrelated comment. Before she can caution herself and tongue, she replies, “Nkoyo,” and she hates that she sounds breathless doing it. Why the hell is her heart thumping so heavily?
“Hmm,” he grunts in his annoyingly sexy deep voice and returns to fiddling with his phone.
Bitter indignation rushes up to her throat. She should be fiddling with her phone if she only had the network connection. How could he dismiss her like that? Nkoyo is furious. The maids rush in with platters of food. She is about to open her mouth and let it rain, but the ‘old farts’ walk in then, causing Nkoyo to bite her acerbic tongue, something she isn’t used to doing.
No matter, she will surely let him know his place after the meal. He probably is one of those hanger-on relatives with Napoleon complexes.
Nkoyo swallows her negative thought the next instant she hears the monarchs’ greeting.
“You deign to join us today, son,” Liman jokes, slapping his son on his shoulder while passing to his seat at the head of the table. Nobody notices Nkoyo’s gasp and her shocked eyes as it swivels to Onen.
He grins at his dad. “Good morning, father. I was in a hurry yesterday,” he explains, his eyes unconsciously finding Nkoyo’s own. Their gazes swivel away as though burned.
“It’s fine, as long as he’s here now,” Jesam says, rubbing her son’s cheek tenderly while walking by to her seat on the right side of the king.
“Good morning, mum,” he greets, abashed at his mother’s caring gesture.
Both monarchs, when seated, turn their gazes on Nkoyo, who suddenly feels like a bug under a microscope. She is suddenly conscious of her not so clean clothes and quite glad that she isn’t sitting close to –the guy – Onen.
“Good morning, your majesties,” she mutters belligerently. The monarchs made her feel like a child before them, something she’d not felt with her parents for a while. She even has the insane urge to pout at that moment.
The king grunts his reply, just like his son – the goddamn prince – had a moment ago. If she’d been looking for proof that he was the prince, that similar feature in the men was proof enough, not to talk of their good looks. They looked like warriors.
Despite the king's advanced age, his physique is as fit as his son's, sans the bulging muscles, though. The veins crisscrossing the prince’s hands and forearms, exposed by his shirt folded to the elbow, leave her breathless.
Nkoyo has the insane urge to trace those veins with her fingers. She imagines how delicate her hands will look if held by his strong ones.
“I hope you slept well?” the queen adds, ever the courteous host, breaking Nkoyo from her insanity.
Several choice replies come to mind, none of them courteous in the least, but Nkoyo refrains from them. She breathes through her fury and gives a slight diplomatic smile.
“Very well, thank you,” she manages to sound pleased.
“Hmm, I’m glad the torpid kingdom is conducive for you,” Jesam adds pointedly, causing the men at the table to look up in open alarm.
“Torpid?” Onen directs his question to his mother for clarification.
“Our guest finds our kingdom torpid,” Jesam expatiates calmly. She serves herself from the rice bowl and scoops a portion of the assorted-meat pepper soup.
“Is that so?” Onen comments contemplatively while turning his gaze to Nkoyo. He is glad for the anger that surges in his heart. Onen appreciates any emotion that isn’t sensual towards the strange woman.
Nkoyo risks a glance at the prince and decides the move is a mistake. Now she feels judged, as the weight of his gaze remains on her the whole meal. She realises that she should apologise to the king and queen, but she can’t seem to bring herself to do that. So, she remains mute throughout the meal, refusing to raise her head.
“Nkoyo, do not hesitate to tell us your needs, okay?”
The words take a while to sink into Nkoyo because the royal family exclude her from conversations.
Nevertheless, when she understands the queen’s question, a slight frown appears on her brow. Is the woman serious? The queen is mocking her. However, she will not give them the satisfaction of being hurt. She would go with whatever game the queen thought she was playing.
“Actually,” Nkoyo begins in her haughty, entitled tone. “Apart from needing my luggage back at some point, like yesterday, I need a maid to clean up my room.”
Jesam opens her mouth to politely, reply but Onen beats her to it.
“If you can’t handle simple personal cleanliness, then that’s just sad. Around here, you must rule a torpid kingdom to get maid service. There aren’t extra maids for over-indulged princesses,” he snarls and then leaves the table in a huff.
Jesam and Liman look after their son in shock. Nkoyo feels humbled, and then she feels insulted, but she gets the message loud and clear.
The queen may have wanted to put Nkoyo down, but she flinches at Onen’s direct barb at Nkoyo. “Forgive my son,” she says. “He is just not handling the stress at work well.”
The prince works?
That is the only thought that Nkoyo’s mind latches onto in the face of her very public embarrassment – by a handsome prince. At this point, she contemplates going on her knees to beg for forgiveness and for freedom to go back home. However, she isn’t sure why she feels ashamed of her attitude or why the prince’s opinion of her matters. She only knows dread for the next meal.
***
Somebody usually comes to call her for lunch and other meals, but not today.
In addition to not having any remote urge to tidy her room, Nkoyo must contend with pangs of hunger. However, since she has no idea why she is being starved in addition to other slights, she sticks to her guns, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her in a pitiful state.
Therefore, she doesn’t go downstairs to seek explanations as to why there was no lunch. No matter how arrogant she seems, she is aware the palace does not lack food. The aroma of sumptuous meals torments her all afternoon. Additionally, Nkoyo isn’t so aloof that she doesn’t know that second to the Bendel, Atam is one of the highest food producing kingdoms.
The lack of lunch seems like a tactic to get a rise out of her. Rustling in her handbag, she is glad to discover a long-forgotten chocolate bar. It isn’t food, but it calms the growling in her stomach. She has a lot of money in her purse, but Nkoyo knows no one would deign to buy anything for her. She is a prisoner, and at some point, they will have to pay for this.
Nkoyo isn’t looking forward to dinner either. They might try to starve her, but that isn’t holding her up. Nkoyo is afraid to see the prince again and his disgust for her. She fears the tingling sensations only the sight of him can provoke. She isn’t sure she can stand it.
Could she request to eat in her room? With a heavy sigh, she knows that would be impossible. But seriously, why is she so pompous she can’t apologize to the king and queen for what she says? Somehow, having nothing better to do, Nkoyo searches her conscience and finds that she will be highly pained if someone belittles her kingdom. And she isn’t even the queen.
Guilt is a new feeling for Nkoyo, and she isn’t handling it well. Each time she remembers Prince Onen’s words and disdainful expression, she groans shamefully.
Sighing heavily and unconsciously rubbing her empty, growling stomach, she was glad to hear the tentative knock on the door and a shouted notice that dinner was ready. Nkoyo sighs heavily again, but this time in relief. The relief doesn’t last long, though, because she recalls she has to go through dinner with Onen and the guilt of having spewed travesties at his mother about their kingdom.
With a deep frown, she wonders why she’d even said those things. Nkoyo is momentarily shocked to be questioning herself. Another strange attitude that she didn’t think a future queen should possess.
Nkoyo takes a deep breath and makes a decision. She had done those things while fully conscious. It is how she’s always been. The monarchs of the Atam kingdom will have to deal with it. After all, she didn’t ask to be held against her will here.
She's sure she’ll feel better, more confident if she has her full make-up box with her. But alas, the kit is with her missing luggage. Why did she order the driver to load her items into the car?
Because you’d just wanted to establish your authority, her new conscience replies.
In a flash of honesty to herself, a recent occurrence, Nkoyo acknowledges her current suffering in the Atam kingdom stems from her attitude.
However, will she acknowledge this to other people, thereby making herself vulnerable?
“Nooo,” she mutters, dragging out her reply while using the simple make-up she finds in one of the drawers to make herself a tad presentable. She can't recall the last time she’d used such basic make-up – a loose, white powder, eye pencil and tube lipstick. She feels weird wearing the make-up, but she looks better with it than nothing at all.
She arrives in the dining room with a pounding heart, meeting only the queen there, patiently waiting, for her. Nkoyo’s heart skips with the unfamiliar emotion of guilt. She kept the queen waiting. Or, hopefully, the woman is waiting for her husband, the king.
Jesam is keen and fast to see the guilt on the girl’s face. Nevertheless, she also notices the moment the princess wipes it off with reason.
Liman is feeling uncomfortable with the whole charade. Her husband is an honest man. Left to him, he'll just come out and announce Nkoyo’s bad characteristics and a need for her to change.
However, such simplicity won’t work on this girl. Nkoyo has gone too long with the cloak of entitlement. Her actions have gone too long with impunity, so, no. Simple will not work with the princess of Efik kingdom.
“The king will not be joining us,” Jesam announces and gives Nkoyo a pointed look that says the young woman is tardy.
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting,” Nkoyo stammers, the unfamiliar words sounding strange in her mouth. She feels like she is eating sand just apologizing for making herself presentable, considering her missing luggage!
