Amile The Queen

Chapter Twenty-Five

***Amile Gumede***


My body is in knots, both from last night and sleeping in one cramped up position. I slept on my side the whole night and I didn’t dare move. The cold space is still there, but the bed feels emptier. He’s not here, good.
I can feel something moist in between my legs so I get up from the bed. The towel I placed on top of the bed is soaked with blood. I panic, there is blood all over my thighs. Fuck!
I run to the bathroom and open the shower. I stand under the cold water and let it wash over me. If I wasn’t so numb, I would be freezing from the coldness of the water, but I’m broken to the point where cold water doesn’t faze me. I gently washed my palace, I’ve never felt it thus sensitive, this painful. A tampon definitely won’t work here, and I hate pads with my whole heart.
I get out the shower and get dressed right there in the bathroom. Okay, now I need to go and change the bed.
I find the bed changed and made neatly. Oh hell no, she’s overstepping now!
“Sis Melo!” I stand at the door and call out. She’s not appearing. I don’t want to leave the room just as yet. I call her again and instead of her appearing, the last person I wanted to see comes to me.
“Morning MaGumede.” I stood up straight.
“Good morning my queen.” I did the little bow.
“Come join us for breakfast.”
“I’m not really hungry yet Ma. Have you seen sis’ Melo around here?” she shakes her head.
“No, I didn’t. I can go look for her. And please, stop calling me ma.” I internally roll my eyes.
Yeah, she’s sweet and all, but she’s still old enough to be my mother so I respect her like my mother.
“Yes my queen.” I bowed.
She shook her head and chuckled before walking down the passage. Where the heck is this lady and my sheets. I was going to wash those myself, imagine having bloodied towels and sheets thrown into the laundry room like that, the whole staff will be gossiping about me and when the staff knows, the news will quickly spread that the kings new wife is lazy and unhygienic. I can see it already.
“My queen, you called for me?” she comes in carrying a tray of breakfast. I stand up meet her halfway.
“Yes, good morning. I was wondering where you took my sheets?” she courtesies when I take the tray from her. Yes, I hungry.
“I changed them and put new ones my queen.” I’ve given up on trying to tell her to stop calling me her queen. But she insists.
“Sis’ Melo I know you were told to look after me and clean up after me, but I am more than capable of doing that myself, and no, I’m not trying to take away your job, but somethings I need to do for myself, as a girl. I can’t have you taking away my dirty linens. Especially those types of dirty linens. Those are private and sacred.”
“I’m sorry my queen, but it’s just that the king sent word for me to change them and bring them to him. I’m sorry for overstepping.” Oh hell no.
“Did he say why he wanted them?” she shook her head.
Obviously, she wouldn’t know that. She would never question the king, even I as his wife would never do that.
I’m someone’s wife, I can never get used to that.
“Okay, it’s fine. Thank you.” She nodded and bowed.
It’s weird that I’m getting this treatment. I’m only 17, if my instincts are right, she might be in her late twenties or early thirties, she’s lived longer than I have but she lives to serve me. That shit right there scares me.
I won’t say I’m getting used to being here, but the comfort of this room, I’m getting used to that. This is where I want to stay forever. Just like how I refused to go and eat breakfast with the rest of them.
I personally won’t stand to look at that man after last night. The most painful night of my life. I should be crying and tearing this room apart, but instead I don’t feel anything. Everything feels completely different and I feel like a brand new person. Maybe this is what it feels like to be a woman. I’m just bothered about the sheets. What does he want to do with them, does he practice witchcraft? That is the only reason why he would want bloody sheets with his cum stains.
Nkosi, he’s not someone I want to think about, I avoid and block him out of my thoughts as much as I can throughout the day. He must stay wherever he is. I will search for happiness until I find it here, whether it is in this, or hidden in the garden, or maybe the piles of books I’ve finished, I’ll find it. Maybe I’ll find happiness in my husband. I don’t want to, but maybe I will.
I sum up the courage to take my tray to the kitchen. I do a little run down the passage, but it’s hard to sneak through here because the floors are wooden, every little sound can be picked up very quickly. I get to the kitchen, and the helpers are sitting around the little table having breakfast. I don’t like calling them maids, it feels degrading.
“Good morning.” I greet as I walk in. They all stand up and bow.
“Good morning my queen.” Sis Melo is standing there looking so guilty.
“Sis Melo please don’t worry. Continue having breakfast, and show me where the broom is please.” They all looked at me.
“No my queen, I will clean the room.” She stood up.
“Sit, that’s an order. Please show me the broom and the mop.” She sits down.
I don’t know her name, but she stands up and she goes to fetch the things for me. She brings them and bows.
“Thank you so much.” I take the things and go back to my chamber.
This is the best way to keep myself distracted because if I constantly sit and just not do anything, I will think of too many things and then I will start crying and I don’t want that, so I’d rather keep my mind off things. I’ve changed a lot since I came here. I’ve started reading, and I hate to admit it, but I’m enjoying it. I’ve spent less time studying for exams, because at this point, I don’t even know if I’ll continue with school as a whole. That’s not in my hands to decide anymore, I belong to a man. I have to start thinking about kids, and starting families now, I’m someone’s wife. The hardest part though, has to be that I’m the kings wife.
At only 17, I’m now forced to sleep with a man, I’m expected to fall pregnant for him multiple times after the other and grow his legacy. It is emotionally taxing, and last night was the beginning of a very long, hard and emotionally taxing journey. When he slapped my thighs and made me lift my knees up in the air, it confirmed to me that it will never be about love, that I only serve one purpose, and that is of a sperm dish and a child bearer. Brains and beauty don’t even matter at this point, only the fertility of your womb.
“Amile what are you doing?” what happened to MaGumede?
“I asked sis Melo to leave it. I wanted to keep myself busy.” I turned to look at her. She looked astonished
“Leave that, she will continue. I want us to talk.” Not this again.
She’s not a bad person, but I don’t like her too. She didn’t do anything bad to me, I just don’t like her. She led me to her husband’s office. Oh no, I don’t want to see him.
“Don’t worry, he’s not here.” I sighed out in relief.
She stared at me. Wow Amile!
She opened the door for me and led me inside. I waited for her to sit before I settled in the chair.
“Why do you always lock yourself up in the room. You should come out sometime, maybe take a stroll in the garden, get some fresh air.” She looked me in the eyes as if she’s studying me.
“I love my space Ma, but I’ll take a walk one of the days.” I’m lying. There is no way I’m leaving my room.
And there is no way she called me out so she can tell me I’m being anti-social.
“I wanted to speak to you about school. UMageba asked me to ask you if you want to go back. He said he’s afraid of you.” I cracked up.
She also joined in and laughed. What a joke.
“Its good to see you laughing.” She’s looking at me smiling.
Yeah, it also feels good to laugh. I haven’t done that in a while.
“So what do you want to do?”
“I would love to go back Ma, I’ve been working hard to get her and I’ve been looking forward to it. I’ve already studied hard.” She smiled in pride.
“I understand, and it’s a good thing that you want to go back. You kids of nowadays hate school. If my son was given the option to drop out he would do it in a heartbeat.” I chuckled.
It’s not even about that. If I wasn’t so close to writing my finals, I would’ve dropped out, but I’ve been working since grade ten for this, giving up would mean that I was wasting my time.
“Okay, I’ll talk to him and we’ll pull some strings.” Must be nice.
“Thank you Ma.” She nodded.
“The children are here visiting for school holidays and they can’t wait to meet you.” She says standing up.
“Schools opened last week ma.” I’m confused.
“They don’t go to school here. They are in a boarding school in Swaziland and the terms are different.” Oh okay, makes sense.
I stood up and followed her. As we were walking down the passage, I could hear little voices making noise. Kanti how many are they?
“Hey, why are you guys making so much noise!” she banged the door.
“Amile, these are the Zulu rascals. That one in the corner is Vukani, my hormonal first born…” she introduced them.
I don’t remember all their names because there’s so many of them but they all gave me such a warm welcome and they gave me hugs. I feel so loved, Vukani was the only one who didn’t bother to greet.
“Don’t mind him, he’s still angry at his father for missing the wedding. He’ll warm up to you.” I nodded.
I don’t even think it’s about the wedding, maybe its because him and I are the same age.
“Mamncane, can you please play with us?” one of the youngest rascals asked tugging at my dress. 
“No, mammcane is an adult, she doesn’t play with children.” They all give me pleading eyes.
“It’s okay Ma, I’ll play with them a little bit. What do you want to play sweetie?” it’s no secret that kids love me, and I love them back just as much. And technically I am their step-mom and aunt.
“Skipping rope.” Oh goodness. Lord help me.
^
^
^
I’m actually having fun playing with them. They are so energetic, and I can’t match their energy, but I feel so alive. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.
“Okay, I’m tired now guys.” I put the rope down.
“Lulu please get me a chair to sit so I can watch you.”
She ran inside the house and came back with a plastic chair. I sat down and watched them play. I wish I could go back to this age, and have no problem, whether it be about it school, or adult life problems, adult problems that I am now a part of. I’ve been forced to grow up without my permission.
And there comes the source of my adult problems. Grow up Amile, he’s not a factor in your life, don’t let him be a factor in your life other he will have power over you. What in the fucking world is he doing here? Yes, it’s his home I know, but it’s my home now too, and he has to respect my boundaries.
MaMzobe comes running out the house as soon as the car parks in the yard. She’s so happy to see him.
“My son!” she engulfed him in a hug.
I assume she’s giving him such special treatment because of the last time he was here. Man’s was kak drunk he didn’t even know how to spell his name. I was so disappointed in him, and more than anything, I pitied him. The state he was in was disgusting.
All the kids were happy to see him too, I can’t say the same about myself, I’m only happy to see Jama. After greeting MaMzobe he came to bow in front of me. I smiled.
“My queen.” He’s mocking me, haha very funny.
“Hi Jama. How are you?”
“I’m amazing, I should be asking you.” He really looks happy.
“I’m okay.” He bowed again.
The helpers are coming out to get their bags. Must be nice being royalty.
The prince walked passed me like he doesn’t even know me. I knew seeing him again would be hard, but I didn’t anticipate it to he this difficult. There are a thousand daggers in my heart.
“Let’s go inside now, it’s late and it’s getting cold.” MaMzobe announced.
I agree, that’s enough playing for the day, I need rest.



***Nontuthuzelo Zulu***


It has been established that Balungile doesn’t like Amile. She saw it in the way she was looking at her playing with the children. She kept throwing little comment like: ‘a makoti doesn’t jump around like that,’ or ‘she’s too glamorous to be a Zulu wife.’ Personally, she’s happy with Amile’s conduct, and as a human being in general. She loves her like the daughter she never had.
She won’t tell her husband, because he knows how Banzi can be sometimes, he is very quick to call someone out for nonsense and anything that has to do with his precious Amile will be sorted out in a hurry. He doesn’t say it, but he cares for her. She can see it in the way he talks about her, and how he worries about her. The feeling between them is pretty much mutual.
“Do you ever sit down my love?” she didn’t even hear him come in.
“If I want things to be perfect, then I have to do them myself.” Her hands are dirty. She’s making chicken.
“I saw Mandlenkosi’s car outside.” He asked leaning against the counter.
“Yes, he’s home. That’s why I’m cooking.”
“Some people are lucky. My wife never cooks for me.” She laughs.
“Since when do you know your way to the kitchen my king.” He laughed.
“I live here MaMzobe.”
“Okay, fine. Have you gone to greet your wife. There’s two of us and you vowed to treat us the same.” He brushed the back of his head and looked down.
“Hambake Zulu. You’ve seen me.”
“Where is she? Did you talk to her about school?” He’s trying to avoid going to her.
“Yes, I did. I’ll tell you later. I’m cooking for my son, go to your wife.” She nudged him with her elbow he laughed.
“Okay, can I get my kiss first.”
“Come.” He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips. She nudged him again.
“Go.”
He forces his body to leave the kitchen. Where have you ever seen a grown man, a king nogal, scared of a teenage girl. Wonders never cease.



***Amile Gumede***



Unlike Gogo’s house where you have to hurry up and shower before the hot water is finished, I can shower for as long as I want. It would be better if I had a bathtub. Yes I appreciate showers, but baths are life. We all need to soak once in a while.
I step out and realize I left my towel in the bedroom. Great, now I’m going to make a mess all over the room. I tip toe to the bedroom. I was shocked to see the king sitting on the bed looking at his phone. I literally got such a fright that I slipped and fell on my buttocks.
“Ouch!” I could’ve shut my mouth but the intense pain I felt was insane.
He got up in a hurry, worry lines etched on his forehead. He assessed my naked body.
“Oh my goodness are you okay?” he held out his hand for me to hold.
I started crying. I’m not crying because I’m hurt, but because this is so embarrassing.
“I’m okay, this is embarrassing, I’m so sorry.” He laughed but I had tears in my eyes.
He leaned down and picked me up. He smells amazing.
“What were you doing?” he placed me on the bed. Someone dig me a hole so I can crawl in.
“I forgot my towel on the bed.” He laughed and shook his head.
“Are you sure you are okay? Are you hurt?” he touched my thigh.
“No my king, I’m okay. Honestly.” He nodded and moved away from me.
Only then did I remember that I am naked. I probably should start getting used to this, he saw me naked last night, it was the first of many nights.
“Are you going to join us for dinner today MaGumede.” I wrapped the towel around my body.
I’m still afraid of him, just like he is of me. So this is awkward for the both of us.
“Yes my king. There is no thunder storm today.” He laughed. 
I wasn’t trying to crack a joke. I tried to stand up to fetch my toiletries but he stopped me.
“Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom to fetch my toiletries Bayede.”
“Sit down, I’ll get them for you.” I nodded and looked down.
Now people are going to say that I’m making him weak. Oh no. Not that they see what goes on behind the walls of this chamber. He loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons of his shirt.
He looks so much like Nkosi and having to see him in the man I supposedly have to spend the rest of my life with, it’s crippling. I don’t know the king that well, but their personalities aren’t the same, it’s their looks that have me thinking of Nkosi all the time.
He handed me my toiletry bag and a pink dress. How cute, he picked out my dress for me.
“Thank you Bayede.” I bowed my head.
I’ve noticed that he doesn’t say anything when I call him like that, but whenever I bow my head or bend my knees as a sign of respect, he laughs or scoffs at me.
“Can I also freshen up here wakwami.” I looked up. Why is he asking, and what did he just call me?
“Yes my king. I will go get your toiletries.” Am I not fooling myself.
“Thank you wakwami.” He said it again.
There you go, I’m someone’s wife. I started getting dressed and he sat on the bed. Why isn’t he going to take a shower?
He’s probably waiting for me to go get his toiletries. Right. I get dressed in a hurry and leave the bedroom to go find MaMzobe. I find her in the kitchen and she is cooking up a storm.
“Lucky you have taken a shower.” I chuckled.
“Ma, I’m sorry to disturb you but I’m here to ask for baba’s toiletries. He said he wants to freshen up.” She smiles.
“Oh okay, come with me.” She wiped her hands and led me to their bedroom upstairs.
Wow, it is stunning. It perfectly lit up, so neat and clean. Not to mention that the bed is massive.
“He needs to get toiletries that will stay downstairs so he doesn’t have a problem.” She said looking through the wardrobe for his things.
“You should also start redecorating your room. It’s always been a vacant room and no one used it so no one bothered to decorate it. Now that you are here, you can give it your own touch, just while you live here.”
She’s basically talking to herself. I don’t have responses to all the things she’s telling me. Talking about redecorating and him having toiletries in there is a reminder that I’m actually here to stay. Oh hell no.
“Thank you ma.” I bent my knees when she gave me his things.
She led me put the room and she was rushing to go back go the kitchen. Why is she cooking when there are helpers and a paid chef in the palace.
I could smell his cologne even before he appeared and I wanted to turn and go hide but it was too late. He’s heading my direction and he’s wearing a very bored expression. My heart started racing and all those feelings surfaced. I looked down and listened to my heart beating in my ear. I walked past him and I thought I was done with the hard part…he grabbed my hand.
“Nkosi.” I whispered.
“I’m sorry.” I looked at his hand that was gripped around my wrist. He looked at it and let go.
His eyes, he looks broken, almost dead on the inside, but he bought that upon himself when he as a man that promised to love me, failed to fight for me and our love. He let me down. I walked away and I could feel his eyes drilling the my back. Ozenzile akakhalelwa, kukhalelwa ozumekile. He didn’t fight for me when he had the chance. His sorry means Nothing to me.