Love At First Sight? Maybe Not.
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Ifedayo carefully crushed the ginger roots, cloves, mint, chamomile, and milk thistle in the small mortar to create the herbal shop’s unique blend of body care tea. Her best friend, Fali, the shop owner and one of the only two friends she had, side-eyed her as she expertly worked on the herbs.
Ifedayo, Fali, and Leah, the heir to the throne of Idia, had been friends since forever, despite the difference in their social status. Ifedayo and Fali’s parents had been best of friends, and when Fali’s parents died, when the girls were seven, Ifedayo’s parents had taken her in and raised her like their own. And when, years later, Ifedayo’s parents died in an unfortunate auto accident on their way back from the palace on Valentine’s Day, Fali inherited Ifedayo’s mother’s herbal shop because Ifedayo had taken a career path in the military like her father.
Ifedayo had almost died in that accident as well; she had been in a coma for months, and she still carried some scars. The most prominent was a ragged C-curve scar that ran down her left temple, stopping just short of her left cheekbone. Fali had opted to stay back at the shop that day to handle the influx of tourists who might need a thing or two from their shop. Ife hated to think that she might have lost her, too.
They were both skilled herbalists, but Ifedayo was better suited to be a soldier. With her tall, lean frame, dark skin, low cut hair, and the scar on her face, she looked every bit the formidable commander of the king’s special guards.
“You are going to have to stop peeking at me and tell me exactly what’s on your mind at some point, you know?” Ifedayo said with a half-smile, without looking up from the herbs.
“Seriously...” Fali began, wiping her hands on her apron. She had been rinsing out some medicinal tree barks for that month’s special: a body shampoo that also functioned as an antacid – a shampoo you could drink. Ifedayo didn’t even try to wrap her head around how Fali would make that happen. When her mother was alive, she had been infamous for her crazy creativity with herbs. It seemed her friend had inherited that as well as the shop.
Last month’s special had been butterflies made out of bubbles that, when popped, not only filled your home and environment with lovely aromas but also told your fortune for the day. It was the kind of magic Ifedayo had never really cared to learn from her mother, but which Fali had paid attention to and mastered.
“Yes, seriously. Fali, speak your mind. It’s not like I could have you thrown in a guardroom and tortured for days if you said something I didn’t like.”
Fali snorted. “Like you could.”
“What?” Ife raised an eyebrow at her friend. “No one in the entire Kingdom of Idia would doubt that except you. They think I’m this evil tyrant who controls the king’s royal guards,” she added with a small smile.
“And whose fault is that?” Fali rolled her eyes. “A lot of people in this Kingdom are foolish, and you encourage their foolishness, looking all gruff and angry all the time.”
“Well, I am angry all the time. There’s always something to be angry about. For instance, Valentine’s Day is in a few weeks, and just look everywhere – everyone is wearing red and white, selling all sorts of ridiculously expensive mushy stuff. As if that isn’t enough, there’s the upcoming Valentine Ball. I wonder what silly speech the king will give this year. Seriously, every year, it’s like the same thing, talking about how much he loves and adores the queen and how she means the world to him, blah, blah, blah….”
Fali smiled and turned back to the sink to continue washing the barks. “We are now getting to the crux of the problem,” she said.
“What problem, Fali?” Ifedayo stopped crushing the herbs and turned her full glare on her friend.
“The one that has you in here at this time of the day crushing herbs when you should be at the palace training grounds or doing some other soldierly duty,” Fali said with a wave of her wet hands, sprinkling water on Ife’s face.
“We both know you only come here when you are pissed and want to relieve stress,” she added with a look that made Ife want to slap the smirk off her chubby face.
But damn it! Fali was right.
Ifedayo threw her hands up in resignation. “Fine, Ms I-know-you-more-than-you-know-yourself. You want to know what the problem is? I’ll tell you what it is. The king is on edge because of rumours of rebels rising in the northern region of the Kingdom, but he won’t take my advice and not hold the festival.
If he won’t cancel it, he should at least restrict it to people who live in the capital city, but he insists on inviting dignitaries from the other kingdoms. He seems to forget that even though it’s been a hundred years since the war that tore the old Kingdom into three, it’s still a sore spot, and with the rebels rising, we can’t have them…”
“So, what really is the problem?” Fali interrupted. “You are a soldier, and I’m sure you knew what you were signing up for when you enlisted.”
Ifedayo rolled her eyes. “Why do I bother telling you about my problems?” She went back to crushing the herbs with the small pestle but, this time, with too much force.
“I’m sorry I sounded dismissive, but I think you have more of a problem with what this time of the year means to you than the actual festival and its surrounding shenanigans.”
Ifedayo knew Fali was right. The pain in her left calf was a reminder of what she was trying to avoid. She had injured her leg in the accident that had claimed her parents and had undergone multiple surgeries before she’d been able to walk again. Her doctor had told her that it was more psychological than physical, but why did the pain feel so real? It was why she hadn’t gone to the training centre that morning; she didn’t want her soldiers to see her limping.
Many already coveted her position; one word was all it would take for them to find her unfit to lead the king’s guards, and all her years of hard work would be thrown away.
Ifedayo looked down at the herbs and muttered some obscene words. Fali followed her gaze and laughed. The herbs had turned into pulpy mush. It wasn’t supposed to look that way; she had ruined the tea.
“Just leave it,” Fali said. “I’ll figure out what to do with the ingredients later; besides, don’t you have a meeting to attend?”
“Oh, shit!” Ifedayo removed the apron around her waist and flung it over the counter. “I am so late. Why didn’t you remind me since?” She hustled her way towards the door.
“Why didn’t I remind you? Look at you, a whole commander of the king’s guard being tardy. Better pick up that apron you threw over the counter before you leave.”
“You are more suited to be a commander than I am, giving orders up and down the place. Are you sure you won’t consider switching careers?” Ifedayo paused when the bell above the door rang as a customer walked in.
Ifedayo could not tell what glued her feet to the ground, or kept her eyes fixated on the customer with her mouth hanging open. But somehow, it felt as if she had been transported to another world – a world where this sculpted work of art reigned supreme, surrounded by nature and worshipped by the sun.
His pearl-brown skin looked smooth, like whipped milk and butter, and Ifedayo imagined how it would feel to touch him. His sharp jawline, pointed chin, and slit hawk-like eyes complemented his lean and muscular frame. Since she was pretty tall herself, he only stood a few inches taller than her. And God, he smelled so good too – like peaches and sunlight.
“Oh, we have a customer.” Fali’s excited voice brought her back to the reality of the herbal shop. She had no idea when Fali left the workstation and appeared beside her.
“Yes, we have a customer,” Ifedayo repeated lamely. The man had an amused look on his face. Why wouldn’t he when she was staring at him like a fool? What the hell was wrong with her? Her brain was telling her that she had to get to her meeting with the king.
She also had a drill with the soldiers under her command afterwards. Still, there was a disconnect between her brain and her legs, and maybe her eyes too, because just as she couldn’t will her legs to move, neither could she stop staring at the customer, who was by now flustered with embarrassment.
“Err…is this a bad time?” he asked, looking from her to Fali and back to her again, resting on her.
“No, no, it’s not. How may we be of service to you today?” Ifedayo asked to Fali’s surprise. She didn’t like to attend to customers; if anything, she avoided them like the plague. But here she was, almost acting the fool for this gorgeous Afro-Asian man with the Korean-accented English and silky mid-length layered cut hair that fell a little over his eyebrows.
The man was beautiful, and there was no doubt about that. What she doubted, however, was the actual state of her mind. She didn’t care about men, didn’t even acknowledge them, because almost every single man she had met always found a way to point out the scar that marred her face and how ugly it made her look. To crown it all, she was a soldier, a kingswoman, and therefore, too strong for them. She intimidated them, and they hated her for it. So, she pointedly ignored them, stopped going on dates, and stayed away from anything that remotely resembled romance.
“We have a variety of organic and handmade herbal products for your hair and skin and your general well-being. If you have something specific in mind, you can tell me, or I can make recommendations for you,” Fali chipped in.
Her high-pitched tone made it evident that she was trying to cover for whatever was going on with Ifedayo. But the customer’s eyes remained locked on Ifedayo’s, and whatever Fali was trying to say was lost on them both.
Fali smiled as she went back to her workstation, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on between them, but she kept an eye on them from the counter. Neither the customer nor Ifedayo noticed her leave.
Ife noticed the man staring back at her with almost the same intensity as she was looking at him. At first, she didn’t know what to make of the awkwardness between them, and then it hit her like a slap. He wasn’t interested in her. He was, just like every other man, interested in the ugliness on her face.
She scoffed. What had she been thinking? That because he wasn’t from Idia, he would somehow be different from all the other men she’d met and been interested in? Men were the same everywhere – she must never forget.
“Do you work here?” he asked her, and if she didn’t know any better, she could have fallen for the innocence in his voice.
“Excuse me,” she said in the politest tone she could muster at the moment, brushing past him as she walked out of the shop.
Of the types of men she hated, pretenders were the worst. The ones who looked innocent but would stab you in the heart at the same time they thrust into your body while making love to you. They would get you addicted to the pain and the pleasure before leaving you broken and out of your mind.
No, thank you, she wasn’t interested. Her life was perfect as it was – no man, no drama, no heartbreak, and no tears.
Do you think it's love at first sight for Ifedayo abi aunty is just fronting? Find out in Love Like Morning Dew, the first story in the Kingdom of Idia Series.
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