But the Queen Dowager was inconsolable, yelling at Samuel, "How dare you try to comfort me? Who are you to say that? Don't tell me to cheer up!"
She added, "Let me be, and let me cry."
Samuel tried to reason with his mother, saying, "Mother, I know you're in pain, but we can't bring the dead back to life. We're not God."
But his words only enraged her further, and she slapped him across the face. Samuel stumbled backwards, landing on a nearby couch.
The Queen Dowager's anger boiled over, and she shouted at him, "How dare you preach to me!" She tried to slap him again, but this time, Samuel caught her hand.
"Mother," he said, staring at her with a mixture of shock and anger. "You can't keep doing this."
The Queen Dowager's face was a mask of anger, and she glared at Samuel as she spoke. "What's with that look?" she demanded. "Are you trying to manipulate me, so you can become the heir apparent? You ungrateful child, you have no empathy for others."
She moved closer to Samuel, her hand still held in his grasp. Bending towards him, she whispered in his ear, "You'll never be the king your father was. You're nothing but a heartless imposter."
Samuel stared at his mother in disbelief, her words cutting deeper than any blade could. He couldn't comprehend how his own mother could say such things to him, especially in a time of such grief. But as he looked into her eyes, he saw only anger and resentment, and he realized that the weight of his father's death had driven a wedge between them.
The Queen Dowager's anger intensified, and she spat out her words with venom. "You're a hypocrite," she hissed. "Do you really think I'm happy to see you here? You're a disappointment to me, a constant reminder of the husband I've lost."
Samuel's head dropped in despair, his gaze fixed on his rubber slippers. His heart ached with the weight of his mother's words, each one cutting deeper than the last. He tried to speak, to defend himself, but no words came out, only empty air escaping his lips.
The courtyard was silent, save for the sound of the Queen Dowager's heavy breathing. The once tranquil space had become a battleground, the pain of their shared grief transformed into a weapon used to hurt one another. And as Samuel struggled to come to terms with his mother's harsh words, he knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges and heartbreak.
But he also knew that he had to stay strong, not just for himself, but for his kingdom. For despite the pain and betrayal he felt, he was still the heir to the throne.
The Queen Dowager's voice broke the silence, heavy with suspicion. "Samuel," she accused. "Did you kill your father? Did you seek revenge for that slap? Did you orchestrate his death so you could claim the throne? You killed your father."
Samuel's head shot up, his eyes wide with shock and horror. The courtyard was enveloped in a heavy silence, the tension so thick it seemed to swallow up the very air around them. The clouds above seemed to disappear, leaving only a sense of dread and disbelief in their wake.
He stared at his mother, his mind racing to comprehend the accusations she was leveling at him. How could she think he was capable of such a heinous act? How could she believe that he would kill his own father for power?
But as he looked into her eyes, he saw only mistrust and anger, and he realized that his mother was not the same woman he had known before his father's death. Grief had changed her, twisted her perception of him, and now he was left to defend himself against accusations that threatened to destroy everything he held dear.
Samuel struggled to find the words to defend himself, but before he could speak, saliva caught in his throat, causing him to cough. He tried to call out his mother's nickname, "Yavina," but it came out as a strangled, "Ya!"
Suddenly, the double doors of the courtyard slammed shut with a force that echoed through the room, capturing the attention of both Samuel and his mother. The unexpected noise sent a chill through the air, adding to the already tense atmosphere.
Samuel jumped to his feet and rushed towards the doors, determined to investigate the strange occurrence. He threw his weight against the wood, straining to open them. After a few tense moments, the doors finally gave way, and Samuel stumbled out into the hall beyond.
Samuel noticed a figure disappearing around a corner and called out to his mother, "Someone was eavesdropping." He quickly removed his slippers and chased after the figure, but had already escaped.
Samuel doubled over, gasping for air as if his life depended on it. He knelt down, struggling to regain his breath as his heart raced. He hesitantly made his way towards the large Iron Gate, only to find the key to the small gate was unlocked.
His eyes widened with worry as he considered what could happen next. He had only seen the eavesdropper's leg and the hem of it robe, leaving him clueless as to their identity.
Fear gnawed at his insides, and he wondered who could be behind this invasion of privacy. He knew he had to stay alert and cautious, as he was venturing into the unknown, armed.
Samuel's mind raced with confusion as he tried to make sense of the situation. The fact that he couldn't determine the eavesdropper's gender added another layer of mystery to the already puzzling incident.
Sitting barefoot on the floor at the castle's front gate, his white robe a stark contrast to the darkness around him, Samuel felt helpless. The weight of his responsibility as the son of the late king weighed heavily on him, and he knew he had to stay strong and find a way to protect his mother and the kingdom.
But with little information to go on and no idea who to trust, Samuel felt lost and uncertain. The only thing he could do was to continue his search for answers, hoping to uncover the truth before it was too late.
As the sun rose over Ile-Oluji kingdom the next day, the bustling Oke-Alafia market was filled with whispers and rumors. No one knew where it started, but the talk of the town was that Samuel, the heir to the late king, had killed his father for the throne.
As the day went on, the rumor about Samuel's alleged involvement in his father's death continued to spread like wildfire throughout the market and beyond. Shoppers and vendors alike discussed the news in hushed tones, and it seemed as though everyone had an opinion on the matter.
One of the late king's subjects was at the cobbler's stand, having their shoes repaired, when they heard the rumor. He was Shocked and dismayed.
The subjects of the late king quickly left the cobbler's stand, feeling a sense of urgency to share the news with the royal family. He walked briskly through the sandy, dusty streets of Ile-Oluji, passing by iroko and mahogany trees that provided some relief from the warm sun.
The kingdom was still largely not modernized, with only the aristocrats living in medieval-style buildings. The common people had to endure the dust and heat as they went about their daily tasks.
As the subject made his way towards the palace, he encountered other members of the royal court. They approached him, their voices united in concern. "What's going on?" they asked, unaware of the social hierarchy that separated them from the late king's subject.
The subject and his fellow court members knew they had to make their way to the palace as quickly as possible. Transportation was scarce in Ile-Oluji, and the only options available were donkeys and horses, which were primarily used by the aristocracy.
Instead, the group had to rely on their own feet to make the journey. Each member carried a small hourglass filled with sand, which they would turn over and hold beside them as they walked. This rudimentary method allowed them to keep track of the time it took to reach the palace.
The group trekked through the dusty streets, the sand from their hourglasses blending in with the dust beneath their feet. As they walked, the weight of the rumor they carried grew heavier, and they knew that the implications of such news would have a profound impact on the kingdom.
The subject couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as they made their way to the palace. The rumors about Samuel had already begun to spread throughout the market, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before they reached the royal family. But he also knew that it was his duty to report the news, no matter how unpleasant it may be.
After an hour of walking, the group finally arrived at the palace, but to their frustration, they found the small, flexible gate locked. They knocked aggressively, hoping to catch the attention of someone inside.
Samuel, disguised as an archer, cautiously drew his sword and gently opened the gate to confront the intruders, his suspicions raised after the previous day's incident.
Samuel carefully opened the gate, his sword poised and ready in his archer's kit. The blade, a masterful combination of white silver, iron, and intricately carved wood, was now directed at the subjects...….