Hey, guys.
So this story is written based on the culture and ethics of different tribes and each tribe has its own beliefs.
This is officially my first book, It's going to have lots of errors but I will try my best to see it all.
Enjoy!
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Kábíyèsí/ Aláàfin- King of the OYO Empire
Olori - Queen
Máámi - Mother
Ẹ̀gbọ́n mi - Elder brother
Àbẹ̀tí-àjà." cap - A cap resembling that of a dog eye.
Ọ̀yọ́ Mésí." - Governor of cities in the OYO Empire
Agbádà - Clothing is worn by high-class people in Yoruba land
...........
"Your Highness, His Majesty the King summons you," Adígùn interjected, interrupting my reverie as I gazed at the tranquil riverbank - my usual retreat for relaxation and thinking.
"Your Highness," he called out once more.
"I heard you the first time, Adígùn,"
I grumbled with reluctance as I rose. As I walked past him, he remained silent and rigid, causing me to ponder why he was always quiet.
As I journeyed towards the palace on horseback accompanied by no fewer than four guards, those I encountered along the way bowed in salutation. Such gestures were customary for one who bears the title of a princess from a prosperous Yoruba dynasty, especially if the kingdom happens to be that of Oyo. Sometimes, I wonder what my life might have been like had I not been born into the royal family.
In the Yoruba empire, monarchs were allowed to take as many wives as they desired. However, my father, the Aláàfin of Oyo, chose to wed only two women, my mother being his second wife. Of all my father's children, I am the youngest. Aláọ, my halfbrother the sole male heir and our eldest, while Asákẹ́ and Adúkẹ́ are my half-sisters.
Upon arriving at the courtroom, I saw my father seated on his throne. His beard was embellished with silver strands that glistened in the light. His expression was severely displeased, and I felt pity for him.
"Kábíyèsí," I greeted him respectfully as I knelt before him with my head bowed low. He wore an Agbádà paired with a crown embroidered with beads that rested atop his regal head.
"Agbé̩kẹ́, my daughter," he spoke with pride, using his Ìrùkẹ̀rẹ́ horsetail to pat my shoulders in approval.
"Ṣe kò sí bàámí?" - Is everything alright?" I asked, observing a hint of stress on his countenance.
"It's nothing for you to worry about," he replied with a faint smile. "How did it go at the orphanage home you visited?"
"It went well," I answered. "The children received new clothing and food."
"Your mother would be proud of you," he said, his smile tinged with sadness.
I honestly wished that were the case; I hoped she was proud of me. Before my mother passed away, we made it a ritual to visit orphanage homes together, bringing gifts, clothes, and food. When I was younger, I didn't truly understand the beaming contagious smile and contentment on my mother's face whenever we were at the orphanage; I now understand that making other people happy in any way was truly priceless.
"I hope that you are getting along with your sisters. Now is the best time to get along before you all get married," he said hesitantly, his expression shifting to one of concern. "Kò má ṣe gbọ́ síẹtí pé àwọn ọmọ oba ó nífẹ ara wọn" - it's not suitable to hear that the King's children don't love themselves.
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