ADEBIMPE ( Episode 14)

Adebimpe (POV)

A story?

My heart raced.

What story am I going to tell him?

What if I sleep off while talking?

Why does he keep disturbing my peace like this?

My mind felt crowded. I couldn’t even think properly.

This was the prince my master. Yet he spoke to me like he was… lonely. Curious. Human.

I remained seated, unsure whether moving would be mistaken for boldness.

“My prince,” I said carefully, “I do not know what story you want to hear.”

“Any story you know,” he replied. “From your village. From your childhood.”

My throat tightened.

Childhood.

That place I avoided visiting in my mind because it hurt too much.

I swallowed. “I am not a good storyteller.”

“That,” he said, “we will find out together.”

There was something in his voice gentle, almost playful that confused me. Princes were not supposed to sound like that.

I took a breath.

“In my village,” I began slowly, “there was a moon tree.”

He leaned back on the bed, resting on his elbow, watching me.

“They said the tree only listened at night. That if you spoke your worries beneath it, the moon would carry them away.”

His eyes never left my face.

“As children, we believed it. When we were scared, we went there. When we were angry, we went there. When we felt small… we went there.”

I paused, my voice softening.

“One night, I went alone. I told the tree that I was afraid of becoming nothing. That I wanted to matter.”

The room was very quiet.

“And did the moon answer you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Then why did you keep believing?”

“Because,” I said, surprising myself, “sometimes being heard even by a tree is enough.”

He smiled.

A real smile this time.

“You are wiser than you think,” he said.

I looked down quickly. Compliments made me uneasy.

After a moment, he spoke again. “Do you still believe in the moon tree?”

I hesitated. “I believe… that people carry their own moons now.”

He studied me like he was trying to understand something deeper.

I felt my eyelids growing heavy. The day had been long. My fear slowly melted into exhaustion.

“If you are tired,” he said gently, “you can stop.”

I nodded, embarrassed. “I did not mean to

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “You’ve done enough.”

I stood quickly, bowing. “Good night, my prince.”

“Good night, Adebimpe.”

As I turned to leave, he added quietly, “Thank you… for trusting me with your story.”

I paused at the door.

Trust.

I did not respond.

But something inside me shifted.

Prince Adewale (POV)

After she left, I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I had asked myself earlier if I had the right to apologize.

Now I knew the truth.

Rights had nothing to do with it.

Courage did.

And that night, listening to a maid tell me a story about the moon, I realized something dangerous and undeniable:

I did not just want her obedience.

I wanted her trust.

Continue reading Episode 15