"That's a good idea, Third Brother," Chidera, the fourth prince, said with a smirk, nodding in agreement. He turned to their parents. "Father, Mother, what do you think?"
Queen Chioma didn't hesitate. "We can't possibly bury her in the royal graveyard. She's not one of us. Throw her there."
She looked at her husband for confirmation, but the King remained silent, his eyes fixed on Nnenna's lifeless form. His face, normally composed, was drawn tight with grief.
The Queen frowned at his hesitation. "Your Majesty?"
But the King didn't respond. Instead, he turned abruptly, walking away from the scene. Tears welled in his eyes as memories of the past consumed him.
Amarachi.
His heart ached as he thought of his late sworn brother's wife.
"I failed you again, Amarachi," he whispered under his breath. "I couldn't even protect your daughter."
The tears spilled over, and he quickened his pace, unwilling to let anyone see his pain.
His wife's face twisted in fury as she caught sight of the King's somber expression. Her hands clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms.
'He still can't let go of that old flame of his!' Queen Chioma's thoughts churned with resentment. 'That wretched girl's death is the best thing that could have happened. With her gone, I can finally win his love without distraction!'
Her anger boiled over, and she turned sharply toward the servants. "What are you waiting for? Take her body out and dispose of it—"
A cold, commanding voice cut through the room like a blade.
"What exactly happens in this house when I'm not around?"
Everyone froze. All heads turned toward the doorway, where a tall figure loomed. The first prince, Somto, strode into the room, his sharp, penetrating gaze sweeping over the scene.
"How can you all agree to throw away the corpse of a girl who has lived with us for a decade as though she were nothing more than trash?" His words were slow, deliberate, and edged with icy fury.
The room fell silent. Somto's tone grew colder with each word, the temperature in the air seeming to drop.
"Housekeeper." His voice rang with unyielding authority, more commanding than even the King's. "Bury her in the royal graveyard."
The words were final. No one dared to question him.
With that, he handed the "trembling" Ebere to Obinna, who was too stunned to protest, and strode out of the room with long, purposeful strides.
The servants scrambled to obey, not sparing a single glance at the Queen or her other children. Everyone knew that the First Prince's word was law, even surpassing that of the King.
From the corner, Nnenna's lingering spirit hovered, observing the unfolding drama. Her heart twisted at the sight of her lifeless body being treated with a measure of dignity, finally, by the brother who had always remained distant.
'He never liked me,' she thought. 'But he still showed me compassion in the end. He truly is different...'
Her spirit floated away, drawn outside the hall. A gnawing question lingered in her mind, one she couldn't shake.
What had Ebere meant about her parents?
She glanced at her translucent hands and froze. They were fading, slowly dissolving into the air.
"No..."
She couldn't leave. Not yet. She didn't want to vanish, to disappear without righting the wrongs in her life.
Her emotions surged, desperation, anger, regret, all blending into one powerful plea. If only I had another chance!
As if in answer, a radiant white light enveloped her, warm and soothing. When it faded, Nnenna found herself in the most beautiful garden she had ever seen.
The vibrant flowers shimmered with a brilliance that no earthly bloom could match. She knew every plant in the royal gardens, even the rarest of exotics, but these were unlike anything she had ever encountered.
Her awe was interrupted by the approach of a tall, striking man. His features were otherworldly, a perfect balance of strength and gentleness, and his sharp gaze seemed to pierce through her very soul.
"Nnenna," he said, his voice firm yet kind. "Your death was unjust, and your life, a tragedy. I will grant you a second chance. But this time, you must live your life to its fullest. Do the right thing. Help others, for that is your true purpose. Are you willing to accept this task?"
Nnenna pressed her lips together, her thoughts a whirlwind. A second chance. A chance to rewrite her fate.
"Yes," she said, her voice steady.
But in her heart, a single word echoed louder than her agreement: Revenge.
She didn't voice it aloud, but the man seemed to hear her unspoken thoughts. His sharp gaze softened with a trace of pity, and he shook his head.
"Revenge is never the answer," he said. "The more good you do, the more their wickedness will turn back on them. You will learn this, in time."
Before she could respond, he raised his hand. A strong wind surged from nowhere, sweeping her off her feet. The garden faded from view as she was carried away.
---
"Doctor, she's still unresponsive. It's been four months already," an aged, weary voice said nearby, laced with pity.
The sound jolted Nnenna back to consciousness, like a tether pulling her from the void.
"It's normal," a deep, steady male voice replied. "Trauma to the head often leads to extended comas. We've done all we can. It's up to her now."
Their voices sounded muffled, like they were speaking from behind a veil. But the words reached her all the same.
"Yes, doctor," the female nurse replied, her tone laced with respect.
The door creaked open, then closed softly behind the departing young doctor. The nurse lingered, making a note on the clipboard before placing it on the nearby counter.
Nnenna, still trapped in her unconscious state, strained to open her eyes or even twitch a finger. The effort felt monumental, but her body remained completely still.
Just as despair began to creep in, a high pitched, melodic voice broke through the silence of her mind.
"Don't bother. I'm the one keeping you unconscious."