The White Witch and the Stable Boy

Nobody seemed bothered when she rose from her seat. Perhaps her absence would go unnoticed. Titilayo would not mind that. She preferred invisibility to the disdain her presence drew. At least that way no one would call her names or look upon her with those eyes. She strolled indoors and up a flight of stairs that led to a balcony, where she had left a book earlier. She picked it up and rested her hand upon the rail. A flip of a page sent her diving into a new world, far removed from the harshness of reality. A world of words and images, imagination breathing life into them. In this world, she was at home. “What are you doing here?” His startling presence made her tremble, nearly sending the book tumbling from the balcony. The beads dangling from his hair jingled as he approached. “You're an awfully quiet one,” Wale noted. “You never said a word at the table. Are witches all mute?” His voice was deep and throaty, cutting through the air like black steel through flesh. He thinks I'm a witch, just like the rest of them. Wale sauntered towards her, one hand buried in his pocket. “What are you reading?” He turned the book in her hands to glimpse the title. Gbenga and Ngozi. “A truly tragic tale, this one. Forbidden love between a prince and a slave girl.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does forbidden love excite you?” “I simply find the story fascinating, my lord. This is my sixth reading.” “Call me Wale. Just Wale.” He glanced at the book. “Seems you read quite often. Are all witches so?” I am not a witch, she thought, almost aloud. “I read quite a lot myself, though books on military strategy are more to my liking. I am a warrior, after all.” He leaned closer. “Do all witches love romance stories?” I am not a witch. “I hear witches find the taste of blood pleasing. Or do you eat as normal people do?” Titi said nothing. “I hear you have a strong taste for milk. Is it to keep your skin pale? Would you lose your witch powers if your skin darkened?” I am not a witch. “I hope you don't mind my questions. I have never met a witch before, so I have many questions.” “I AM NOT A WITCH!” The words burst from her before she could stop them. What did I do? He would surely be angry. I should never have yelled at him. What if he calls off the wedding? Ronke would never forgive me. What will Mother say? What did I do? What did I do? When she turned to face him, she was surprised to find Wale smiling. He isn't angry? “I like that energy,” he said, to her surprise. “Sometimes a raised voice is what people understand.” She wiped away tears she had not realised had fallen. “You were joking?” His teeth were white as milk as he flashed a warm smile. “Forgive me if it was in poor taste. I simply wanted to test your limits. I truly do apologise for my manner of speech. Do find it in your heart to forgive my insolence.” “No... it's... it's alright.” He's not like the others. “Learn to stand up for yourself a little more.” “Uhmm... I... I am... I will.” He's not like the others. “So tell me, Titilayo. What else do you fancy reading?” A dozen passionate dancers were doing somersaults in her belly. “I read everything I can get my hands on.” He's not like the others. “Everything?” “Everything.” “Even military strategy?” “ Ajayi's 'The Tenets of Warfare'. I've read all three volumes, twice.” She could not resist the little boast. “I guess that means you could lead an army.” She burst into a faint giggle. “Absolutely not.” “A witch leading an army.” He grinned. “Your enemies will cower in fear at the sight of the White Witch and her army.” Her lips curled in displeasure, and a canyon formed between her brows. Wale guffawed. “It was nothing but mere jest.” She forgave him. She could see sincerity in those beautiful black eyes of his, and the white glow of his smile seemed genuine. He rested his elbows upon the rail and fixed her with his gaze. A wave of pink dotted her pale face as a smile bloomed upon her lips. “You have a very beautiful smile,” he said. “Far too pretty to be a witch, if you ask me. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.” Her heart was beating too loudly for words to sprout in her mind, so all she managed was: “Aren't they waiting for you down there?” “The very reason I came here was because I did not want to be down there. I told them I wanted to take a stroll.” He smiled. “Can I tell you a little secret? That was only an excuse.” “But my sister is waiting for you.” “Oh, that one? Let her wait. I'd rather be anywhere else. All she does is nod and giggle. She has the wits of an infant fish.” Titi blinked. “She was hell-bent on joining me on my stroll. Took a lot to get her to stay.” Ronke might not have been the kindest person, but she was still her sister. “Don't badmouth her.” “I see you're quite fond of your sister. Why, though? I see the way she looks at you.” There was a deep sadness in Titi's smile. “She is my sister, and that is all that matters.” “Even if she bears you no love?” “She is my sister.” He flashed that smile again. “You're strange. Awfully soft of heart for a blood-sucking witch.” This time, she took his words as a compliment. For some reason, she found being called a witch lacked its usual sting when it came from his lips. He lifted his hands from the rail. “I, for one, cannot see myself loving someone who bears me no love. Be it my own blood.” Titilayo was far too hopeful in the strength of the blood she shared with Ronke to believe her sister bore her no love. She had to. Even if only a little. She has to. Does she? Of course she does. I'm her sister. Does she truly love me? She dreaded finding out the answer, so she did not let the question linger. “Why are you marrying her if you don't like her?” Wale sighed. “Marrying your lackwit sister was never my choice,” he confessed. “Our fathers—my father and yours—decided this union, not us.” He paused. “While your father served as steward to my father, my father promised to have me wed to one of your father's daughters.” She felt the heat of his breath upon her ear as he drew closer. “But he never said which one.” The sweet scent of mint and cloves mingled with the sweetness of his voice. “And perhaps...” He leaned closer still. “...the little White Witch is more to my fancy.” He pulled away with a smile and walked off, leaving her with those words. She could not tell if he was serious or merely jesting. But she knew one thing for certain. She liked the sound of it. The dancers in her belly were now doing backflips. She returned downstairs after a few more page flips, Wale's words ringing in her mind like a sweet tune. After a lengthy period of feasting and marriage preparations, the Akinṣọlás were ready to take their leave. Wale and Ronke walked hand in hand towards the wheelhouse. He bade her farewell with a gentle kiss upon her hand. And then he gave Titi what she could have sworn was a wink.

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