Updated: Jan 10, 2019
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Here's the next instalment from His Captive Princess. Enjoy
Read CHAPTER ONE Part One
Read CHAPTER ONE Part Two
CHAPTER ONE Part Three
Isha’s spine stiffened. A journalist had asked her a similar question a few days ago. She’d been annoyed because the media focus of her trip had been diverted from the pan-African trade deal she negotiated for her Kingdom to events in Wanai which were outside of her control and jurisdiction.
Then, she had given diplomatic comments to the journalists knowing her words would reflect on Kweku.
Now, she wouldn’t hide her true feelings about the situation. There was no need for tactfulness amongst close friends.
“Don’t get me started. No one seems to understand how difficult it is to rule a country of multiple tribes. Kweku’s father has kept Wanai together for years. Now the horrible militants are terrorising the people.”
A muffled cough interrupted her diatribe. She glanced up. In her fury, she hadn’t noticed the arrival of the serving girl in black uniform and dark braided hair tied up in a ponytail.
“Would you like more champagne?” the girl asked as she lifted the magnum of Krug Vintage.
“Sure,” Joya replied as Isha nodded.
The waitress filled their gilded flutes with the pale-gold liquid before walking away.
“Excuse me, Princess.” Her bodyguard who stood behind her chair leaned over to speak in a low voice.
The entourage proved to be another absolute necessity she had grown to appreciate over time.
“Yes?” She tilted her head. “You have a call.” He passed a phone over to her. “It’s Mr Doona.”
She smiled as she took the muted gadget. “Excuse me, ladies. I need to find a quiet space to take this call.”
“Sure.” Her friends waved her on as she got up and sashayed across the lobby, stiletto heels clicking against the marble tiles. Her silent and huge bodyguard kept anyone who wanted to approach at bay while clearing the path to the exit. In the courtyard, she found a quiet corner amongst the trimmed hibiscus hedges. The tide lapped against the concrete barrier and the sea breeze fluttered the hem of her dress.
“Kweku, where are you?” She asked after the pressed the button to connect the call.
“Hi, darling. I’m leaving now,” his voice came through along with the sound of activity in the background.
“Just leaving? That means you won’t be here for another two hours.” She scratched her eyebrows.
“I know. My meeting ran late. But I’ll be there soon,” he sounded unconcerned.
Sometimes the formal commitments ate into their personal time, another consequence of their statuses. The party would be wrapping up by the time he arrived.
“I told you not to worry about coming over. We can meet up another time. I can do a stopover in Wanai on my way back to Bagumi.”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks. I’ll be there in two hours and we can spend the weekend together. Got to go.”
She puffed out a breath. She couldn’t stop him from coming over, even if she didn’t see the relevance. “I’ll see you soon.”
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