I THOUGHT THAT when the time came, I would be riddled with doubt. Crippled by the pain in my gut. But as I stare at my reflection in Father’s mirror, it’s like every weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For so long I’ve struggled to do the right thing.
Tonight I leave my mark as king.
Knock! Knock!
Mother appears in the door, a vision in a gown tailored from gold. The rich fabric glitters with embroidered crystals and shimmering pearls. A giant gele catches the light on her head. From the flush along her cheeks, I can tell she’s already had her fair share of red wine.
“You look beautiful, Mother.”
She lifts her chin, swishing the flowing cape draped across her shoulders. “Have you finally come to your senses?”
“I understand.” I nod. “You’ve only done what you thought was right.”
Mother’s mask of calm falls and her shoulders relax. In her amber eyes, I see the woman I love. It almost hurts more when she pulls me into a hug, holding me close.
“I know you don’t agree with my methods, but I hope one day you will understand that everything I have done has been for you. By dawn, all your enemies will be gone. Nothing will get in the way of your reign over this great kingdom ever again.”
I pat her back, inhaling her rosewater scent. Conviction radiates through her words.
It always does.
“I understand, Mother.”
She pulls back and dabs her eye, drying any tears before they can fall. She reaches for the pitcher on Father’s dresser and pours red wine into the crystal flutes, before handing one to me.
“The toast we should’ve had.” She raises her glass in the air. “To securing the kingdom.”
“To securing the kingdom.”
Our glasses clink, and Mother is quick to take a generous sip. She knocks back half the flute before directing her attention to my attire.
“You look handsome in navy, but we need to match tonight.” She points her finger. “The gold agbada should be in your closet. Efia tailored it herself.”
“I appreciate your guidance, Mother, but it doesn’t matter what I wear.” I set down my flute and meet her eyes. “This is it. I’m dissolving the monarchy tonight.”
Mother releases a high-pitched laugh, resting her pointed fingers over her heart. “Have you had too much wine?”
I shake my head. “I’ve just had enough.”
Her fingers fly to her lips, but they do little to suppress her raucous laugh. She sighs and shakes her head.
“Just when I thought you’d matured.”
“I have matured.” I close the distance between us. “I see the truth now. We pretend that magic is the root of our pain when everything rotten in this kingdom begins and ends with us. There’s no helping it.” I clench my fist. “Amari proved that in Ibadan. This throne corrupts even the purest of hearts. As long as it exists, people will continue to tear this kingdom apart.”
“I don’t have time for your nonsense.” Mother drinks the rest of her wine before setting down her flute. “You’re still upset about Ojore. Stay here and sulk like the child you are.”
She turns to the door, but her knees buckle the moment she tries to walk. She blinks as she stumbles forward, bracing herself against the wall.
“What’s going on?” she asks, her words starting to slur.
I close the space between us, guiding her back to Father’s bed.
“I worried you’d recognize your own sedatives,” I say, lifting up one of her emerald vials. Mother stares at her empty flute. My own is still filled to the brim.
I see the moment she realizes her mistake.
“You rotten little m…” Her words slur together and her muscles spasm as she fights the concoction. The ground quakes, but only small tremors answer her call. They grow weaker and weaker until she can’t summon her magic at all.
I straighten my collar as she fights to stay conscious. Even as her face falls slack, her lips curl into a snarl.
“I hope you enjoyed the gala, Mother,” I call back to her as I walk out the door. “It’ll be your last.”