Chapter Fifteen

He takes my hand. His is rough. I try not to imagine them on my waist. Then the image vanishes. Two moon coloured eyes replace it.
Suddenly I feel a million needles jab into my hand. I cuss the heavens. The pain is sharp. Excruciating. I rip my hand away from his. And examine it. Hmmm, how strange.
What did this fool do to me.
Spha opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. He is just as confused as I am. He now keeps a careful distance from me much to Queen Mother's annoyance.
I frown. What the hell just happened? It's either Spha's sword makes him hurt people (unintentionally) or it's D'ziko. The latter. Definitely the latter. How the hell is he doing this? Did he put something in me? Did he bewitch me somehow? Yes. That's why I can't get him out of my head. That's why I shiver now as I relive the moment from earlier. The way he'd held me. The sensation he'd awoken in my body. How inappropriate those feelings were, especially with hundreds upon thousands of spectators there.
I shouldn't be so weak when he's around.
At the feast table, I turn to Queen Mother. "Don't punish Spha. It's just that I'm not used to a...man holding my hand."
She forces a smiles. It's so quick it disappears within a second. "Oh. Oh. I understand completely." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
From the picture in the wall, Leza's eyes follow me until I take a seat then she looks at my father. He squirms. It feels weird but it's like she's trying to tell me something. I shrug my shoulders and again the eyes move from me to my father and then to Queen mother. I don't know what to make of that. I just nod.
I have never seen so much food before. I take a bit of everything. They all wait. No one will eat before me, not even the Queen. I fork a piece of meat or fish. It's a whitish colour.
I pop it in my mouth and it just...disappears. Literally. It's possibly the most delicious piece of meat I've ever had. I can't tell exactly what it is. It tastes like chicken, a bit of mutton or is it cheese.
I eat it until my stomach is a bubble, waiting to burst.
My lips feel clumsy and so large. Like I've been injected with local anesthesia. "That was delish. What is it?"
I want to blow my lips, to see if they'll bobble. I giggle. I feel so good. So silly.
Queen Mother fakes a smile at me and says, "It's a all-flavour sausage."
It is definitely not shaped like a sausage.
"What's it made of?" I ask, nodding toward the unfamiliar meat.
Queen Mother wrinkles her nose and says, "Snake tail, pork fat and wild pumpkin."
Oh. Leza! I feel sick. Wild pumpkins scare the hell out of me. They grow on the mountains and have dog shaped teeth and wild black eyes. They bite, and bark.
"Which snake?"
I pray it's just an anaconda or cobra or even a python and not--
The next words are like a knife in my heart.
"Jiscer," she says quietly.
A Jiscer (or rather Bab' Jiscer) is a black and blue snake. It talks. It. Talks. Enough said.
I convulse, expecting her to relent, to say she was only kidding, but her stoic face suggests otherwise.
"So ya killed it?” I pronounce each word slowly.
For the next minute or two the question hangs in the air. Why isn't she saying anything. I convulse again and close my eyes but I see Jiscer hissing “ hi” at me just last week and shudder.
"Kill it?" Queen Mother sighs aloud, shaking her head, horrified. "Leza no! We simply asked. Jiscer was gracious enough to give us at least half of his tail."
A thick moment of silence sits immense in the table, leaving my stomach tied in a knot that lurches, pushing against my throat. Free me.
King Father's eyes lands on my face. "Would ya like the maids to pack some for ya to take home?"
"No no no,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, but it trembles anyway.
He waves toward the 'sausages', his expression friendly. "Ya sure?"
"Positive," I manage to choke out.
Queen Mother shakes her head and leans forward. In two seconds my plate is full of "sausages" again.
That almost knocks the air from my lungs. My stomach rumbles its discomfort. "Excuse me. I need the bathroom,” I say as I push back my chair.
The people in the dining hall gasp, bursting into fearful whispers.
Queen Mother jumps to her feet, snatching my arm. Desperate. Even King Father looks terrified, his eyes set so wide.
Queen Mother doesn't give me time to protest.
"Goddess Imani, ya'll offend Jiscer."
"Offend it?" My voice is unceremonious.
Her voice is grave. "Him, yes. By puking."
To calm myself, I breathe into the sleeve of my steels and sit down. "Huh?"
The royal twins first make sure I won't try to beeline for the bathroom before they take their seats and King Father says, "Ya remember the recent earthquake, don't ya?"
Ah, yes. How can I forget the last time the weather snake was angry. The tornado striped most houses bare. It took us a month to put back all the roofs in the affected houses. Now I understand what she's saying. I can only blink in disbelief.
"Who puked last month?" I finally ask, not sure it really matters.
"Yer father,” The King murmurs, more to himself than to me. “Like father, like daughter, eh?”
I don't ask anymore questions. The mention of my father is enough to unsettle my stomach all on it's own with no help from Jiscer or the wild pumpkins. How could two of the most disgusting things taste so amazing, so otherworldly. Geesh.
"I'm sorry about yer brother, Imani," the King says. "Unfortunate. What happened yo him, isn't?"
I briefly shut my eyes. I don't want to talk about my brother, not with the king.
"We were going to go to the funeral, except Sithole told us his boy was Gay. Gods forbid a person with the homophobic illness is buried by a Royal."
Papa looks at the king like he is deranged. "That boy wasn't mine."
I can't believe Papa would deny his son just for being gay. Commodore was so much more than what they've reduced him to. My chest feels heavy. I can't breath. What's happening to me?
"I'm just going to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." Then I stand up and run.
Before I can reach the bathroom, I burst into into tears. The bathroom is navy. And cold. I splash water on my face at the sink and try to calm my breathing. I scowl at my reflection. My eyes have gone red. Why am I crying? I've always known Papa loved money more than he ever loved us. He wouldn't admit to being Commodore's father in front of those people. He wouldn't risk the very thing he sacrificed us for. Commodore didn't care. Why should I care? Kaseke doesn't care.
I square my shoulders, wipe off my face with some toilet paper then walk out the bathroom to face the man that now means absolutely nothing to me.
When I get back to the table nobody else tries to talk to me. Something on my face seems to scarce them.
Once the Royals eat their fill the rest of the tribe is allowed to eat. I can't help my smile as people engage in silly banter, click glasses and celebrate my new appointment. The night is yang, at least by Noddon's standards. Feasts narmally lasts for days. A three day bash.
"Let me walk ya home," Papa says loud enough to awake even the dead. He offers me his hand. A couple of people look up. "We have much catching up."
I don't know which hurts more; he's never called for a single birthday and I'm sure he doesn't even know when I was born to begin with; he's only playing daddy because my title doesn't just come with power but also an immensely ridiculous net worth. Money even the Queen has never had. As well as I know my father, he'll go where the grass is greener.
"That's one offer I'll have to pass. But thanks."
He has the guts to look hurt. "Why?"
I look at him sharply, grab his hand and dig my nails into his flesh. "What's my name?"
" Imani,” he says, looking straight through me. He even seems to be smirking.
I dig my nails deeper. He winces and loosens the tie around his throat. I make him nervous. Good.
"Exactly." The world feels like a knife. Why do I care so much? I don't want to. But he's my father and as long as he still lives he'll always manage to hurt me somehow whether deliberate or not. Why do I even let this get to me.
Ya don't care why he's back. At least mama will be happy. Mama matters more. My motivation.
His eyes shift between Leza's picture and me, and he swallows hard. Even I'm nervous.