Page 32 of Possessing the Prince

He stops his movement and stands in front of me. “I do not possess high regard for money, but it is needed on this Earth to serve God’s will.” He starts to pace again. “So, we waited, and God blessed us with the cancellation of your betrothal. I think Apeagyei thought with so much time passed that we would forget. But we did not. The moment that King Kofi was married to his new bride, we sought you as payment for the debt. And now, it is finally time for you to fulfill your destiny. If you do not, your father and brother will die. You see, grace cannot be bought with money, only with blood.”

What the hell?All this tribal bullshit is crazy. I’ve spent my entire life avoiding it, only to be dragged right through the worst of it. God help me. My father should have told me about the hold Chief Apeagyei had on him. We could have figured something out. And Senya! He should have told me the level of danger I was in. He lied to me…by omission. He wasn’t protecting me. He made me more vulnerable. Why do men always underestimate their women?

The priest pauses suddenly and takes a long look at me. “You are thinking about something. Tell me.”

I don't know why I feel compelled to tell this disgusting fake holy man anything. But I’m angry and want to vent. “I’m just thinking about Apeagyeis treachery. I know my family is shady. I’m not surprised one of my ancestors pulled that trick, but we take betrothals seriously in our culture. The Apeagyeis entered a betrothal agreement with my father and I‘m sure they ensured my safety. But Michael Apeagyei only wanted to marry so he could give me away to slavery.

“It’s not slavery, it is servitude. To the highest Gods. What we call fetishes.”

I shake my head. “With all due respect, priest, we are talking about a debt from generations ago. This is a lifetime sentence for me and any offspring you may force me or any other woman in this shrine to produce. I know all about trokosis. I am a journalist. You intend to keep me here forever, but my husband will not have it.”

The brute steps in and I see him clenching his fists at his sides. I am afraid he will try to correct my insolence with those fists, but the priest stops him with one look. He then turns to me.

“You are married?”

“Yes, priest, I am. And I am sure my husband will be here soon. And unfortunately, people will die.” I shrug when I say that, because I really don’t give a damn at this point if they all die, as long as I and the other women get out of here.

The brute snarls at me. “Stop lying, girl. No man is coming for you. You were taken from one of your many customers’ houses. No man is risking his life or wrath with the Gods for a common harlot.”

“Harlot!” I scream. “Are you crazy?! I am not a whore; I am the wife of Prince Senya Kwesi Asante T’ogbe, the right hand and youngest brother of the Asantehene.”

“You are a lying wench who will pay for your lies in bed on your hands and knees and tied to my bed. You have already been promised to me. I always get to…purify…the sexual deviants.”

I spit on him and kick him in his balls. He doubles over and tries to reach for me, but I scoot away and actually hide at the side of the priest. I swear I see a faint smile crack on the priest’s face. It dawns on me that he does not like this man. But if that’s the case, why does he have such a high position in the shrine?

“That is enough,” the priest yells. “The Gods take marriage seriously, and we do not take another man’s wife. For your sake, David, I hope she is lying. If she is not, there will be consequences—not just for you, but for the Apeagyeis as well. Taking another man’s wife is a sin. You will pay with your life.”

Just as I thought, this is the man Yayi spoke of at the washing basins. “Wait so you have standards for the slaves you take?” I try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but I know I’ve failed. The priest heard it, too.

“For someone facing the loss of freedom and maybe even her life, you are an insolent little thing. But yes, there are standards. Virgins can atone for the worst of sins and pay off the highest of debts. Next are the unwed. Those women rarely are given to us for the atonement of others. Usually, it’s to pay for a sin they’ve committed. You were an exception because of your high-ranking birth. Your knowledge of the Ashanti ways can be leveraged for our needs. But a married woman is forbidden on these grounds.”

The priest grabs my face and forces my eyes to meet his. “For your sake, I hope you are telling the truth, or you will belong to David as all harlots do. And I’m afraid you’ve already made a terrible impression on him.”

I stare back at him and I do not turn away. He needs to know he does not scare me. And he doesn’t. Being without Senya and my freedom scare me more than anything else. This weak man instead only sickens me.

“I notice that you do not cry easily.” The priest searches my eyes. “What has robbed you of emotion?”

I do not break his stare. I simply whisper, “Life.”

Surprisingly, he chuckles. “Very well. I will give this husband of yours twenty-four hours to show. If he does not, you will belong to the shrine and serve David.” I look over at David. There is no way I’m going anywhere with him. I’d kill myself first. The priest reads my thoughts.

“And do not think you’ll be able to leave this life on your own accord. Here at the shrine, no woman is ever alone. Remember, he has twenty-four hours to show.”

When I hear the boom of shattering glass and screaming women behind me, I know I won’t even have to wait twenty-four seconds. My husband has come.

Rescue

Senya

Ibought an entire team of assassins with Kofi’s gift of resources. Every single man or woman is a soldier who has seen more than their fair share of battle. A few have helped start one or two wars. I called in every favor owed to Kofi and me. It took twenty-four hours to fly them all into Accra from Dubai, Moscow, Mogadishu, and even a very close CIA contact of Kofi’s from Washington.

The shrine is akin to a compound with hundreds of men working to keep it protected and safe. Not to mention the hundreds of women that are trapped inside—I have no desire to make them collateral damage, so I needed a team that could kill with the precision of a scalpel but strength of a hatchet.

When demolishing a fetish shrine and its priest, one must bring an army. As Abena’s father stated last night,This is not some church in the woods. I wanted to put a fucking bullet in his fat skull for putting his daughter and my wife in this predicament in the first place. If Owusus’s pride and greed weren’t so out of bounds, he would have sought help for the Apeagyei feud years ago. Kofi would have wanted to broker peace.

Owusu will never admit all he really wanted was to get in bed with the slimy Apeagyeis for their political connections. But I know the truth; he overplayed his hand, and now Abena has been taken. I arrived at his home with murderous thoughts. But, once I ensured he had nothing to do with this, I calmed down. Then I reminded him that I would abandon him or worse if he did not continue to comply with my commands. He looked truly remorseful and worried about Abena’s safety. But it’s a bit too late for that now isn’t it.

The shrine is an open secret that anyone from the surrounding villages can point out. But outsiders would never even know where to look. I, however, am not the average outsider. With my intelligence background, finding this place was not hard. I shook a few hands with people of the village who may be my kin for all I know. Not only am I Ewe, but my mother was from one of the surrounding villages, Nima.

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