Lwazi's breath was catching over his throat. Every once in a while, he would try to swallow the coughs that would attack him.
"Bring the damp cloth," he had a voice whisper beside him.
His eyes refused to open for a while before they gave up to his command. Slowly, he flickered under the dim candle.
"Lwazi you're awake," He came face to face with a bare face with gentle features. Her dreadlocks hugged her face, and he could immediately recognise the almond eyes that held so much defiance.
"Mo -," he caught himself and immediately corrected, "Queen Nala."
"Mother, I am your mother!" She teased him as if the exchange was as common as breathing.
"Why?" Before he could finish his sentence Nala started talking disrupting his thoughts. "You ran a fever yesterday after you came back from the hunt with Moti and Tuimane. They are resting now; they have been by your bedside all night."
Lwazi tried to stand himself up but immediately grew dizzy as soon as he sat.
"Why am I here?" He looked across the room. The unfamiliar paintings on the wall, and the open view that overlooked the lake confused him.
"What do you mean Lwazi? You always visit once a month and stay for a full week." Nala quickly nudged for the witch doctor, and he was already fussing over him trying to find what might be wrong.
"The Gamba prince has been asleep for over the sun's full cycle. It is normal to be confused in the first sun's quarter shadow." He assured Nala as he slowly excused himself.
"Look at that, the third rooster hasn't cried yet and you have almost killed me," Nala, fussed over him. Checking for his temperature, her worrisome expression over his face.
"Na-"She gave him a look of disapproval before he could finish his words.
"Mother," He corrected himself.
"I don't know why but this all feels unfamiliar to me. It is as though I am forgetting something important," Nala cleared her throat. Removing some of the dreadlocks that were already covering his face.
"Has you grandfather been pressuring you again?" She asked.
"No,"
"Don't lie to me boy," She squeezed his hand hard enough to remind him who was the elder in the room.
"It is my duty mother," He tried to free himself. Wincing from her discipline.
"Very well, I do not have a say in how they should train you to make you a worthy leader, but Lwazi," she reassured him. "You are my first-born son, the child that blessed me to be a mother. There is more to you and your birthright than a measly throne."
"If I refused that with all that I was raised for, then what would I be?"
"My son Lwazi, my son," she kissed his temple. A soft smile resting on her face as she read his expression with worry.
"Rest now, its okay, we will figure out the rest later. I am here for you," She stood up, turning off the candle with her own palms. "Your siblings are also here for you." She whispered under her breath.
These words all felt all too familiar to him, as if he had heard them before. He just could not place it where or from him. And the conversation felt like a repetition of a curse he could escape. As if the world was telling him to forsake his duty and live free in the woods.
Amidst his confusion and worry, Lwazi's eyes fell into another darkness. A welcoming sleep overtaking him just as soon.
.....
Ania was slowly woken up from her daze by winces she could slightly hear from a faraway dream.
Heavy breaths beneath her brought her steadily from her unplanned sleep. She quickly collected herself, sitting up right. She had fallen asleep sitting beside the bed. Her young Lord had only been revived between life and death. As soon she heard his steady breathing, sleep overtook her.
The crowned prince was not yet up, but it was clear he was wincing in pain even in his sleep.
Sweat was already forming on his forehead. Ania touched his forehead and realised it was burning even with the sweat wetting his pillows.
She quickly called for his aid worried of the unclear signs whether he would be waking up anytime soon.
"He should be awake by now, he has been in and out of a daze for more than half a sun's cycle," she had conveyed those words as soon as the young lad walked in.
His eyes quickly glanced over to the young lord's furrowed expression. His eye lids in a tight window. He was really in pain. He seemed to be shaking, and Ania couldn't tell whether it was from the cold or the pain.
"Your highness, our crowned prince rode his horse the whole night in the rain because he didn't want to leave you alone for too long. Then on his way he was injured by the sword," He quickly explained. In a worry to discover his Lord in such a dire state.
"He rode in the rain the whole night?" Ania was shaken. "Tell the kitchen to bring hot water," She dismissed him, not knowing whether she should be touched for his actions, or whether he should be worried by his stupidity.
"Clearly if you are so careless with your life, I'll be a young widow. Who knows by then if your brothers will allow me to safely written home." She lamented to his half-asleep daze. Hoping even his unconsciousness might catch a glimpse of her worries.
When hot water had arrived in a base, she quickly took a cloth. Dampening it in the hot water, she slightly showed his legs from the duvet and started washing them.
"Now look, I've never even washed my father's feet, and I have to wash yours to bring up the temperature," She whined as she continued to wipe his feet with the wet hot cloth.
Time after she was done, the shaking stopped. Ania regained her designated spot next to his bed.
"I hate sleeping late the most and I even must stay by your bed side to be the devoted wife. Who is protecting who? Who needs who now?" She continued to complain as she felt the temperature on his forehead and his hands.
Looking at his sleeping state however, the little princess could not help herself but to stare at him shamelessly.
Even in his sleep she could tell he was worried, and that there was a lot he was thinking about. His brothers might even be plotting his death even in his dreams.
A silent scowl rested on his mouth, and she wondered whether he might be uncomfortable. Slowly she reached for his hands and held them tightly. At a loss of what she might do next but wait for him to wake up and tell her how she might help himself.
She thought a little hand holding might be comfort to him, to tell him there was someone by his side.
Maybe he had felt it too, because his breaths started to become steady again and his features softened. The grasp on her hand tightened.
On a surprised act, she removed her hand and the grasp on her tightened. Forbidding her to run away.
"You have already washed my feet and held my hands. Is it not too late to act shy now?"
"Your highness you are finally awake." Ania hurriedly stood from her sit and poured hot water in a cup and brought it to her husband to drink.
She slowly tried to sit him up so he may take as much of a gulp as he can manage.
"How could you be reckless with your life? No wonder you seemed drained in the fight," She commented, returning to the sit she designated for herself.
"As if you choosing to take the blow for me was being careful with your life?" The crowned prince managed to make a few winces as he steadily returned to his sleeping position.
"As someone who has just saved your life, I wouldn't expect that swift attitude with me. If I hadn't jumped in, I doubt you would be here to act smart with me," Ania huffed and turned to position herself to look away from her husband in a swallowed anger she couldn't quite understand why she suddenly had.
"You rushing to save me makes logical sense, but you, jumping in to take a blade for me is reckless, is it not?"
"I only talked with you because I was worried, I'd be widowed and married off to one of your brothers, or worse, your uncles. I didn't expect you'd retaliate with so much venom instead. Do you feel emasculated? Have you never been saved by a pretty woman before?" Ania joked, feeling uncomfortable and stripped with the conversation turning her way.
"You are right, I have never been saved by a pretty woman," His eyes were straight forward, intentionally bare and willing to be stripped from any scheme he might be holding.
Ania felt heat creeping into her cheeks by the prolonged contact between the two of them. "Are you feeling uncomfortable in any way?" She asked, feigning way more concern that the shyness she felt.
"Ania, look at me," She obeyed, her actions halting in a learnt response she didn't know she had for him.
"What?"
"You cursed me so much and hated that I made you look after me, do you feel at a disadvantage?" He asked, pulling her little closer.
"A few playful words have made you so petty?" She tried to pull herself back.
"I just think that we are in too much danger to be playing games so much. Why don't we both concede? We both care for each other more than we hate to admit." He decisively told her.
Maybe he was dizzy from the pain and high by the herbs, but under that blurry light. He fell target to her disarming sincerity. Maybe it was the near death that his life flashed before his eyes and his saw the unworthy life he was leading.
The plotting, the schemes, the near death. He remembered so clearly, when Ania called for him, and he realised it was too late for him to move out of the way.
He could not accept his death. He had ridden a horse against the full moon until the rooster's cry. How could he die before he even spoke a single word to her?
His vision was blurred and yet he could make out her large and round eyes. Her doe sight made his chest hurt. Her face was a glass vision that lacked hidden motives.
She made him believe he could live a normal life, maybe have a family, with a pillow mate he could trust of lay his life to.
How could he fail to notice? Her small frame and her lack of defence when he was with him. Her hands were soft. Yes, he had felt them, and he would never forget the feeling. They told a story of never being harmed and always being cared for.
Her lips were slightly parted and no matter how much he tries to sense any hostility or scheme coming from him. He couldn't.
He remembered their wedding night, how he never came to lift her veil and complete the proceedings.
She was noble, why would he even think she would be bought to be against him in his family petty fights.
She was the only female descendent except her mother from the spirit family. Even his royal title was below her.
His throat tightened and he realised how much of a fool he had been. Her dreadlocks carelessly draped around her neck; her eyebrows were slightly furrowed.
He suddenly felt derelict and pained by what he put her through before.
He could have become her husband even before their political alliance to ensure her security. Who did he think he was?
"What does that even mean?" Azania scratched her throat.
"I mean, should we not at least consummate our marriage least I die before we have an heir? That might save you from being a pawn in the political struggle should I die early." He tried to make a sitting position, failing miserably.
"You nearly died today and that is all you are thinking about? Honestly the more I spend time with you the more I worry about my future."
She stood pacing dramatically in the room. The crowned prince had only seen such a side of her when she was sheltered around her mother and older brother. He had started to get worried when she turned so quiet in the new court. But seeing her so carefree and scolding him with such fiery words without nitpicking or worrying about manners, he couldn't help but smile. At least he had not failed in all parts.
"Mom told me this marriage would be good for me. That you were considerate and very respectful, clearly…" She continued to pace and made an excuse to go out and get the doctor.
Minutes later, the witch doctor was being bombarded with questions, given little and no chance to answer any of them.
"And how much longer can we wait until we can share a bed?" She bluntly asked earning a strained cough from both the doctor and her husband.
"No, you misunderstood me, I take care of him and need to walk to the main room at night. It has caused difficultly sleeping on my part," She made her sound reasons and yet the witch doctor still feigned a cough.
"Your duty is bountiful your highness. In three days, the crowned prince should be healthy for any duties. Especially the ones that involve the lasting peace and friendship between our kingdoms." He giggled and practically ran out before Ania could say anything.
"That's really not what I meant," Ania screamed after him the room getting hotter by the second.
"Of course, of course Princess, it's all for my good," Her husband smirked, positioning himself from the bed and opening space for Ania to sit.
His heart beat faster with her nearing steps. Ether his was being weighed by guilt or the herbs, but something in the air had definitely changed.
Maybe for the worse, and maybe even for the better.