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Tall like an iroko tree, built like an armoured tank #ThrustyThursday #RHOSaene

Updated: Jan 11, 2019

Yay! Thrusty Thursday is back.

And yes, I totally made up the phrase.


Anyway, back to His Captive Princess.

Enjoy the next instalment.





CHAPTER ONE Part Four

Puffing out another heavy breath, she lowered the phone and stared at the inky waves only a few meters away. Warm air swirled around her shoulders.

A knot curled tight in her belly and the sense of unease she’d kept at bay since she agreed to marry Kweku seeped into her consciousness.

Why was she not overjoyed at her impending nuptials like every other potential bride displayed?

You know why?

The inner voice sounded loud and clear and admonishing.

She shook off the heavy sensation and swivelled.

Her bodyguard stood a couple of paces away, posture straight and alert.

Something niggled at her. In all the time she’d been dating Kweku, her chief of security had always referred to him in the formal tone as Mr Doona.

“Kojo, why do I feel as if you don’t like my fiancé?” she asked.

Tall like an iroko tree, built like an armoured tank and with the agility of a race car, the man had become her symbol of safety in the past few years.

Kojo’s face puckered in a frown before it smoothed out. “I have no opinions either way about Mr Doona.”

“I’ve never known you to be a liar. Why are you doing so now?”

One of the things that made her a great advocate and negotiator was her ability to listen and absorb information from all sides, which ultimately helped her in achieving her goals.

“I’m sorry, My Princess. But it is not my place to share my opinions with you.”

“Perhaps not. But can you tell me why you always call him Mr Doona?”

“Is that not his name?”

“You know exactly what I mean. He is the president’s son. You don’t seem to have any respect about that.”

Kojo stiffened. “Beyond being the president’s son, he is nothing else. Just a man.”

His tone implied that her fiancé wasn’t a good man. She bristled, although she had given him permission o speak freely. “Do you have the same contempt for me? Do you see me as nothing more than the king’s daughter?”

His tone softened. “No, My Princess. You are a princess of Bagumi, a highly placed member of our Royal family. Beyond that, you are a much-esteemed ambassador and an advocate. I see the dedicated way you work tirelessly to improve things in Bagumi. I am very proud of you and honoured to have the position of being your chief bodyguard.”

“Thank you, Kojo. However, are you saying that Kweku does not care about his people?”

“I cannot speak for the people of Wanai. I only speak as a Bagumian.”

“But?” she prodded, knowing there was more he withheld.

“But, I have heard rumours about things going on in Wanai and in the Ganuri region especially.”

“What kind of rumours?”

“About ethnic cleansing.”



 

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