Emeravwe had, of course, anticipated that Aslan would be shocked when she announced her decision. But she never imagined he would laugh at her.
Her heart dropped as she watched him continue in mirth; her face heated with indignation and embarrassment.
She shot to her feet with a devastating glare.
Her voice shook with hurt as she demanded, "Why do you laugh? You think I cannot? You think I am merely a nameless, lowly Omote and cannot? I am also a lady of noble birth, yet I must labor in the Bureau of Halls and Chambers, while other ladies frolic in the marketplaces dressed in fine silks and jewels! They do not worry about back pain or dry hands!
What makes me any less worthy? I am no less worthy! I deserve more than a shabby room in a forsaken corner of the palace and these shoddy garments!" She flipped a corner of her transparent green robe with irritation.
Scowling at her robe, her fists clenched and chest heaved with frustration.
Then she recalled her encounter with Prince Etegah, and looked challengingly to Aslan. She proclaimed boldly, "At the very least I deserve a prince!"
Aslan had stopped laughing and listened with a grave expression.
He asked quietly, "And at most?"
Emeravwe studied him. No hint of laughter lingered in his features, and she saw sincerity in the soft glow of his amber eyes.
A slow smile touched her lips.
She stepped forward, leaned close to cup a hand to his ear, and whispered, "A nation."
As she stepped away, she smelled the sweet, familiar scent of plumeria that always lingered on Aslan's body. And noted, not for the first time, his pierced ear.
For a long moment, Aslan said nothing. He looked at her with such intensely somber eyes that her heart stiffened.
Then he said solemnly, his eyes never leaving hers, "People lose much to gain a nation. But take me. I shall give you my heart, and be your nation."
Silence filled the space between them, and the songs of crickets rang in discord.
Emeravwe stared, dumbstruck.
Her body seemed to comprehend the meaning of Aslan's words quicker than her brain did. For the warm Xxenen night suddenly became hotter than a boiling afternoon, as heat rose from the tips of her toes to the hairs at her temples.
Her thoughts muddled in a dumbfounded haze, and she found her voice stuck in her throat; her heart increasing in tempo.
Yet, Aslan continued to watch her steadily. The look in his eyes telling her she had not misheard.
But if she had not misheard, then surely there was some kind of mistake!
She searched his face for any sign she might have missed something; her mind was unable to accept the earnestness she saw.
"B-but you—you are a Eunuch!" she finally exclaimed in disbelief, her heart pounding.
Aslan frowned. "Even so, I have a heart to give."
Emeravwe was speechless, her eyes round with amazement.
In all the years she had known Aslan, never had she imagined… Never had she thought… She could not think!
The way Aslan looked at her was too unnerving.
She turned away. Then back again. Bewildered as to how a Eunuch could be so bold to address a Maiden in such a way.
She noticed, not for the first time, Aslan's broad shoulders and the way he squared them. The upward tilt of his chin, and the dignified way he held his head.
These were things she noted as they grew up, but took for granted as the manifestations of his rank. But even with rank, Eunuchs were forbidden intimate contact with Maidens.
Aslan's bold declaration, and the unwavering assurance in his gaze, told her now that his confidence was his own, notwithstanding his rank.
She squinted at him.
And partly because she wanted to satisfy her curiosity, and partly because she wished to divert the conversation, so he would stop gazing at her in that unsettling way, she stated, "You are an Onorogu's son."
"Alas, all Eunuchs are," he said matter-of-factly.
"No," she insisted, lightly stomping her foot, "I mean an esteemed Onorogu's son!"
He was silent a moment. Then, "Why do you say so?"
She crossed her arms with, "Humph! Never have I encountered a Eunuch with pierced ears who wears scents!"
He smiled now, and leaned back on the bench. "Indeed, few can escape the consequences. But you do so easily though you are bejeweled," he pointed to the small bulge of the ruby beneath her headscarf. "And your ears are also pierced."
Emeravwe uncrossed her arms, arguing, "But mine—"
Aslan cut her off, "Yes, you are a special exception. But not the only one."
Emeravwe's heart sank as she watched him.
Seeing the sudden change in her mood, he inclined his head. "What is the matter?"
She asked silently, "You mean, you are also a 'valued child'?"
A look of realization crossed his face, and his expression grew warm. "Yes, I suppose I am."
His words were like a blow to Emeravwe's chest.
She knew she was not the only valued child in the palace. She had learned that though palace Maidens and Eunuchs were designated from birth, and formally selected every few years, there were exceptions, like herself, when a child not designated was accepted into the palace.
But she never thought that Aslan, too…
Even now, she could not bear to picture him as a valued child. She did not want to think he had also been abandoned and mistreated in the palace as she had been.
Seeing the pain etched on her face, Aslan extended a hand to her. "Come, Eme."
She took the hand, settling again beside him.
They were silent a moment. Then she intoned quietly, "Is that why you became my friend?"
He shook his head. "It is simply that I know how lonely the palace can be for a valued child."
Emeravwe fidgeted with her fingers. "Do you…" Her voice caught in her throat. "Do you know who your parents are?"
He replied gently, "Knowing does not make the palace any less lonely."
She was silent as she took in his words; her brow furrowing and expression darkening.
She whirled on him, eyes sharp with accusation, "You at least get to see your father when he comes to court, do you not? He comes to court almost every day, right? Who is your father, anyway?"
She gave him a once-over, guessing, "The Minister of Finance? Or maybe the Minister of Justice? Well?"
Aslan's look was pensive, then, "The Onóturode."
Emeravwe stared. No wonder, she thought.
Aslan's dignified character, the esteem with which he carried himself. These were not the manifestations of his rank, but the mark of his birth.
It was no wonder she never suspected he was also a "valued child": he was different from her. The confidence he possessed was one she could never have because, unlike him, she did not even know whose daughter she was.
"You see," Aslan said, looking meaningfully at her, "choosing me would not be worse than choosing the Orodje."
Emeravwe's eyebrows pinched, her lips pressing just as tight.
But Aslan's stare was expectant, so she said quietly, avoiding his eyes, "You are a Eunuch, and I am a Maiden."
She stated more assertively—reasonably—as she looked to him again, "You know as well as I do that such a relationship is unacceptable!"
He smiled. "Yet not unprecedented."
Incorrigible! Emeravwe thought as she held his unwavering gaze. Not just that, he was being irrational!
They were already violating several palace rules just by meeting secretly each night. Even if they simply sat speaking innocently, they would be severely punished—and disgracefully thrown from the palace—if they were ever discovered.
They were already straining their boundaries beyond normal limits, yet Aslan had the audacity to suggest…
Emeravwe stared incredulously.
As she continued to eye him with disbelief, Aslan's expectant expression faded. The light in his eyes dimmed, and his features stiffened, becoming unreadable.
He stood suddenly, turning from her.
"I know nothing of the Orodje, so do not ask me!" he said tersely and began striding away.
Taken aback, she called after him, "Wait, where—"
"I shall retire for the night!" he threw back curtly, never turning or missing a stride.
Emeravwe sat bewildered long after he left the garden.
As much as his ridiculous proposal, his impulsive behavior amazed her. In almost every situation, for as long as she had known him, Aslan remained calm and composed.
He had never behaved as indiscreetly as he did tonight. And never had he walked out on her before!
Emeravwe marveled at this new side of Aslan. She wondered if it came about because of her rejection.
Surely, he was sulking!