Dingani's pov
I stand atop the palace walls, watching the guards haul a man through the side gates to the prison cells. I would much rather I stand alone.
But no. Thulani stands close by, resting his elbows on the wall as he taps the stone with absent-minded and rhythmic beats. Thulani watches the arrested man with interest.
"Let go of me!" The man, John, screams as he is escorted through the gates. "I have done nothing wrong! My wife is my property. I do with her as I want."
"Move along," the guards instruct flatly with a firm hold on John's shoulders.
"Why am I being arrested?" John demands. "This happens all the time. It is normal. So why am I being arrested for damaging my property? You don't arrest women for breaking their pots. Why are you arresting me?"
Though I understand John's words, it seems to anger me instead. Anyone else, and I probably wouldn't care less.
But this case was different, because it involved Misozi. As such, my chest aches, and I mask it with anger.
"So tell me, Dinga. Why did you arrest the man?" Thulani poised.
My jaw clenches. Of course Thulani has to ask the one question I don't want to answer.
"It was attempted murder," I reply bluntly. "I will not have my people damaged and killed. Regardless of what John believes, all people in this Kingdom are my property first."
Thulani turns his head lazily to regard me with a raised and knowing eyebrow. A sly smile spreads across his lips.
I want to wipe that smug smirk from his face, and I calculate if I can be quick enough to land a punch on him. His speed matches mine, but he has the advantage of being leaner and lighter, making him quicker, while I posses greater strength.
"Try again, Dinga," Thulani sings. "And before you say it, yes, I know, I'm an ass," added with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. "But I am intrigued, as I have never seen you react so harshly against a man who has beaten his wife."
I glare at him, and open my mouth to say something.
Thulani interrupts me as he holds his finger up. "This is important, Dinga," he says, his tone unusually stern, which is not something I hear from him. It catches me out.
"Even if you do not want to tell me why, then fine," Thulani continues. "But really think – and I mean really think – to yourself why you arrest John this time, instead of letting him go."
I turn my gaze from Thulani's piercing stare. He is the only one who can see past my Kingly titles to just me at the core, and I both love and hate him for it, because his question bypasses all the airs and graces I display over this development.
Thulani straightens to leave, but pats me on the back first. "When – not if – you go to see Misozi, just know that I shall be tagging along," he murmured cheekily. "I am not missing this development for the world or your wrath."
I do not look at him, but merely shift my stance ever so slightly, revealing just a glimmer of my barely concealed temper over the weakness Thulani has pinned to light.
My feint is enough though, causing Thulani to leap back, and I smirk slightly. My best friend and brother he may be, but even he knows better than to be within my range should I decide to attack.
He clicks his tongue and wags his finger while he crouches lithely on the ground.
"No amount of bravado can hide the new facts," Thulani chuckles, rising gracefully. "Think on it."
And with that, Thulani leaves in the opposite direction to avoid crossing paths with me.
I really do hate you sometimes, brother, I brood to myself with grudging admittance, because Thulani's question brought to light something I do not want to have to admit.
But unfortunately, Thulani was right. He is always bloody right.
I hated seeing Misozi cry. I hated seeing her upset. Instead of being angry at a woman over such unnecessary displays of emotions, I found myself feeling saddened and shocked with her. It made my head feel heavy, my chest tight, and my gut tense.
Somehow, I cannot imagine the thought of the source of her anguish being because of me, because I have the power to change things. Somehow, I cannot bear the thought of her hating me.
Imagining her smiling face and singing voice, eases those tensions.
I shut my eyes, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose as I hold my breath to control my own confusing emotions. Slowly, I sigh.
I want her, and only her, to think well of me, I realise in silence to myself. Damn it. One woman. One woman with the voice of an angel. That was all it took.