Page 11 of Possessing the Prince

My father stares at me with an impenetrable gaze before erupting into a roar of laughter. “Do I care about your love? Even if I believed that you were capable of loving any man more than yourself, it would not change the fact that you are marrying the Chief of Aboso’s son. They are a fine and old Ashanti family with many political ties. It will be beneficial to both houses for us to join. You, my dear, will be treated like a queen, with access to anything you could possibly want. That Ewe half-breed cannot provide that type of life for you.”

That’s what he thinks. Senya could buy him and Apeagyei out with a blink of an eye. He’s richer than Gold Coast gold. I think about telling him this, but something tells me it would do no good to share Senya’s riches at this moment. He continues his assault on Senya and delivers a final command. “You are marrying Michael Apeagyei, and that is the end of it!”

“No, I am not.” The moment I say it, my heart almost leaps out of my chest. I do not know where I have gotten this sudden dose of courage. …Wait, yes I do: from my husband.

My father slams his hand on the desk and stands towering over me. “I will not tolerate insolence from any of my children. Especially not my ungrateful daughter. You will do as you are told, or you will face the consequences.”

“Father, there is no consequence you can dream up that will make me forsake my heart or my own mind. I do not need your money or blessing.” For the first time in my life, I pause and realize how true such a statement is. I signed a million-dollar contract with the royal family before I left London, for Christ’s sake. Why do I always allow myself to be at the center of the Ashanti court’s intrigue? Oh yeah, because the court is my flesh and blood, and a huge part of me still wants my father’s love and approval. “Father, I am here because Senya insists upon doing things the Ashanti way.”

“Humph! He wishes he was Ashanti. His brother has a weeping heart and broke our laws by putting that Ewe bastard in office.”

I want to scream and tell my father he’s not a tenth of the man Senya is, but I know that will do no good. Instead, I keep my head. “Well, I’m sure the Asantehene will love to hear your thoughts on his weeping heart and Ewe bastard brother.” I stand to leave. “Good luck with that.”

“Sit…Down! We are not done talking. You cannot marry that man; our family’s very existence is dependent on you fulfilling the marriage with Chief Apeagyei’s son. You have no choice. I do not know what kind of game you are playing, Abena, but I have no time for it. You will fulfill your duty.”

What the hell is my father talking about? Our family's existence? What has he gotten us into? “Father, whatwahalahave you brought against our home? Whatever it is, I am not the key to fixing it. I am tired of living my life only to fix your mishaps.”

My father is around the desk and standing with me nose to nose before I can blink. For a moment, I fear he will strike me. It would be the first time, but something in his eyes seems off and violent. He is desperate and not thinking straight. I think whatever is chasing him may be chasing me, too.

My father does not strike me; instead, he points his finger in my face. “I know you have been friends with that servant Senya for years. I never liked it, but I let it go because of his influence with the king. He may now have the title of a prince, but I know what he is. The fact that you would even consider marrying him tells me all about the kind of woman you are. But it doesn't matter. You will do as I say, or you and your fake prince will regret it.”

I move closer to him to show he does not scare me. “Is that a threat, Father?”

He takes my hand and squeezes it tight. “No, my dear, that…is a promise. I am going through the charade of meeting with the king and his brothers tomorrow because I would be a fool not to. But I will not give my permission. I will refuse every offer they give. The Asantehene will not be so keen to have his brother married without my blessing. The council would not look favorably upon it at all.”

My father is such a fool; his plan will not work. Sure, Senya marrying me against my father’s wishes is not politically expedient. But I know that Senya is not moved by any of that, because he already married me with no hesitation. I pray his brothers Kofi and Adom feel the same.

“Father, I have a headache and I’m going to rest, but before I leave, I have a piece of advice. Never try to take something from Senya T’ogbe that is his.”

“Are you saying you are his?” my father whispers harshly. “Have you already given your body to him?”

“No, Father, he has something more precious. He has my heart.”

Kookoo Ko (Knocking)

Senya

Arriving at the door of Chief Owusu’s glittering display of ill-gotten gains brings back the painful memories of Kofi and I’s last visit. It was then that he learned the motive behind his lifelong betrothal to Abena. Our father, the former Asantehene, was even more fucked up than we’d known. He was not only a philanderer, but also a gambler who used his son’s future as currency to pay his debt. Kwabena Owusu would use his vast gold reserves to discreetly pay the king’s debt. In return, the king promised his son Kofi, the future king, to Owusu’s only daughter.

Owusu knew Abena’s marriage to Kofi could have increased his influence over the throne. When I learned of our father’s deal with the devil, I’d felt ashamed. But today, I stand behind my two brothers feeling proud we have kept the crown safe from Owusu’s influence. Next to my brothers, I feel invincible.

We are wearing royal garments to let the Owusus, Kwabena and Thomas, know we mean business. Though I usually hate wearing my kente cloth, today it feels appropriate. Kofi and Adom even wore the royal colors. Decked out in purple and gold, they project authority. As a new prince requesting Abena’s hand in marriage, I thought it more appropriate to show some deference while letting Owusu know I am his equal in wealth. So my kente, in contrast, is red and green.

“I thought the plan was for us to match Senya. You’re messing up our look, but I must admit you look good.” Adom reaches out to touch the many folds of fabric draping my chest. “I’ve never seen this pattern before…where did you source your fabric? Did Mawuli find this for you without offering it to me, her best customer, first?”

I shake my head. “Adom, you may be Mawuli’s most frequent customer, but you are not her favorite. This fabric is one of the few things my mother left behind before she disappeared. There are bolts of fabric stored in the back of your Auntie Amma’s house out in the bush.” Adom’s mother had apprised me of them when I officially became prince.

Kofi runs his hand along the fabric. “This is the most intricate pattern I’ve ever seen. Hold the fabric close, brother.” He slaps my shoulder and smiles. “Enough talk about fashion. Let the knocking commence.”

Kofi turns and knocks. A servant immediately opens the door, and her eyes widen when she sees the three of us. Her king, prince, and Tafo’s chief stand before her. We are perhaps the three most powerful men in the Ashanti kingdom. She bows and escorts us in.

“Your highness,” she says to all three of us and no one in particular. “I will tell the chief you are here.”

When she disappears around the corner, I look around and focus on all the pictures of my Abena growing up over the years. Her eyes are unhappy but resolute in every picture. My heart tightens knowing she’s spent so much of her life unhappy. We wait a few minutes before Thomas Owusu comes into the foyer to greet us. Kofi speaks first.

“Thomas. Why is it every time I come to discuss royal business with your father, I am greeted by you?”

Thomas folds his arms across his chest, never taking his eyes off of Kofi. “Because contrary to what you believe, I am an heir to my father’s kingdom, just as you are an heir to yours.”

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