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Chapter 363: 363
Nwadimma interjected, her tone measured and calm. "Zephyr, my brother has his faults, but his ambition is not without purpose. If his words do not convince you, allow me to offer something more tangible to prove our commitment to resolving this matter."
Zephyr raised a brow, curiosity flickering across his face. "Oh? And what might that be?"
Nwadimma hesitated, her eyes briefly meeting Nwadiebube’s. "It is clear to us or those paying attention that you lack information on the people of Björn and their ways especially their religion"
"We have been in close contact with them and could even be considered friends, what if we act as the medium who relays messages on the happenings and actions taken by them?"
Zephyr’s expression shifted, his intrigue deepening. He crossed his arms, staring at Nwadimma as if trying to dissect her proposal. "You offer to play the role of a messenger, a bridge between us and Björn’s people?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. "And why would I trust you with such a task? What guarantees do I have that you won’t twist the information to suit your own interests?"
Nwadimma maintained her calm demeanor, her voice unwavering. "Because our survival depends on maintaining peace, Zephyr. The actions of Björn’s priest have already brought us to the brink of disaster. Any deceit on our part would only accelerate our downfall. We have the most to lose if this situation worse ns, and we understand the gravity of that responsibility."
Zephyr studied her in silence, his piercing gaze weighing her words. "Your logic is sound, but intentions can be fickle. How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to gain leverage over both my people and Björn’s followers?"
Nwadimma hesitated for only a moment before responding. "Because we would be placing ourselves under your scrutiny. You are welcome to send your people to oversee our operations or embed representatives within our court to ensure our neutrality."
Nwadiebube, who had been silently fuming, finally interjected. "Sister, you overstep—"
"Do I?" she shot back sharply, cutting him off. "If we do nothing, Terra’s wrath will crush us. If we act, we have a chance to rebuild trust and avoid destruction. Which path do you prefer, brother?"
Nwadiebube’s face darkened, but he didn’t respond.
Zephyr’s lips curled into a faint smirk. "A bold offer, Princess. One that suggests either desperation or genuine understanding of your precarious position. Still, the question remains—why should I care about this arrangement? My people have little interest in Björn’s followers beyond ensuring they don’t disturb us further."
Nwadimma inclined her head slightly. "Because Björn’s influence is growing. His people are spreading, and their zealotry knows no bounds. Ignoring them now will only allow their power to fester unchecked. By using us as intermediaries, you can monitor their activities without exposing your people to unnecessary risks."
Zephyr tapped his fingers against his arm, his gaze drifting toward Nwadiebube. "Your sister is far more persuasive than you, boy. But even her silver tongue doesn’t guarantee my agreement."
He turned back to Nwadimma. "I’ll consider your proposal, Princess. But know this—if I sense even a hint of betrayal or manipulation, there will be no negotiation, no second chances. My brother’s wrath will be the least of your concerns."
Nwadimma nodded, her expression resolute. "Understood, Your Majesty. We will prove our sincerity through action, not just words."
Zephyr gave a curt nod and turned toward the door, his cloak billowing behind him. "You’d best hope your actions speak louder than your brother’s arrogance," he said over his shoulder before disappearing into the corridor.
As the doors closed, Nwadiebube rounded on Nwadimma, his anger barely contained. "You dare to undermine me in front of him?!"
Nwadimma met his fury with a calm, piercing gaze. "I dare because you were driving us toward ruin. If you want to protect this kingdom, brother, then act like a king—not a petulant child."
Her words left him seething, but he couldn’t refute them. Suddenly both their eyes widened as they both ran to the nearest window. Opening the window, they looked to the sky where the Zephyr stood in the sky above the city.
He seemed to sense them as he turned towards the window they were in, the king and princess both had a serious look in their eyes as they focused on the energy gathering at Zephyr’s raised finger that was pointing down at their city.
They both heard a scoff carried by the wind to their ears, followed by Zephyr flicking his finger to the sky and him disappearing. His disappearance was followed by a loud sound of explosion, followed by a heavy gust of wind that swept throughout the whole city throwing everyone outside into disarray.
Nwadiebube and the princess closed the window with a heavy down look on their faces.
The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence as Nwadiebube and Nwadimma stood frozen by the window, their gazes lingering on the now-clear sky. The faint echo of Zephyr’s parting show of power still reverberated in their ears. The city below was alive with chaos—citizens scrambling to recover from the gust of wind that had swept through like an invisible tidal wave. Shouts and cries carried through the streets, the sounds of people shaken to their core.
Nwadiebube clenched his fists, his jaw tight with suppressed rage. "He dares mock us, flaunting his strength in our own skies. As if to say we’re beneath him."
Nwadimma’s expression remained calm but grim, her voice sharp. "He didn’t need to say it. He proved it."
She turned away from the window, moving to sit at the heavy oak table in the center of the room. "Zephyr’s message is clear. He may have humored my proposal, but he holds all the cards. That was a warning, brother—a show of restraint masked as a threat."
Nwadiebube followed her, pacing back and forth like a restless lion. "And what do you suggest? Bow to him? Let him treat us like insignificant insects?"
"Control your temper!" Nwadimma snapped, her tone cutting through his fury. "If you let your pride dictate your actions, you’ll doom us all. Zephyr doesn’t respect empty bravado; he respects results. If we’re to survive, we must outthink him—not challenge him head-on."
Nwadiebube stopped pacing, his gaze hardening as he met his sister’s eyes. "And if he’s already made up his mind? If he’s just toying with us before destroying everything?"
"Then we ensure he has no reason to," Nwadimma replied, her voice steady. "His departure means he hasn’t made a decision yet. That gives us time to act wisely. We focus on what we can control—fulfilling the promises I made and proving we’re worth keeping alive."
"I didn’t even get to mention on my plan to attack Osita, now it seems we really have to get in the same boat with the people of Björn" Nwadiebube said as he sat down with a hevay look on his face.
Nwadimma placed a steady hand on her brother’s shoulder, her voice calm but firm. "Aligning with Björn’s people helps us kill two birds with one stone. We gain their assistance while offering Zephyr and his followers valuable intelligence."
Nwadiebube turned to face her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. He sighed as he rose to his feet. "Leave the court to you, then. I have a war to prepare for."
Nwadimma remained silent as she watched him walk away. His recent behavior—his impatience, his rash decisions, and above all, the fear that clouded his judgment—concerned her deeply. Her brother was afraid, and she could do nothing to change that.
She couldn’t defy a god to save him. But she could protect their people from the consequences of his ambitions. He had promised her he would tread carefully, avoiding the wrath of the godlings, yet he had broken that promise. His actions had sealed his fate, and now he seemed determined to make a lasting mark, no matter the cost.
Their kingdom thrived on its militaristic foundation. Every citizen was trained, the values of discipline and readiness etched into their lives. It was a proud but rigid system, one that the court’s leaders—men who thrived on conflict and conquest—would undoubtedly exploit when they learned of her brother’s plans.
Nwadimma saw an opportunity amidst the chaos. As the interim voice in the court, she could subtly rally support for her cause. She would need allies, not only to temper her brother’s reckless strategy but to ensure the kingdom’s survival in the aftermath of war.
Osita, the looming opponent, was no ordinary adversary. The kingdom would need every ounce of its strength to face him. But Nwadimma couldn’t help but think beyond the battle. Victory might come at a devastating cost: a shattered leadership, a depleted army, and a kingdom left vulnerable in the power vacuum that followed.
Her gaze shifted to the bustling streets below, where soldiers marched with precision and discipline. Their kingdom prided itself on its militaristic culture, and the citizenry held unwavering trust in their leaders’ ability to protect and lead them. But would they follow a king driven by desperation? Or would they rally behind a queen who sought to safeguard their future over fleeting glory?
