Chapter 3
"Are you comfortable, Ororo?" Takari asked as he took the seat across from her.
"Yes, Takari. I am. Thank you for asking," she replied with a smile, "How have you been?"
"I've been well, much better now that I sitting here with you."
"I've missed you as well, my friend," Ororo told him, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, squeezing gently.
"How long has it been?"
"At least a year," she said aloud but thought 13 months and 6 days.
"I'm so sorry how things turned out," he replied and she shook her head.
"No need for apologies. Let's let the past stay in the past, at least until we can get through this sad occasion," she replied and was rewarded with a visible sigh of relief from the man who served as T'Challa head of state, staff, and everything this else. Takari was T'Challa's right hand and nothing happened with T'Challa that Takari did not know about.
"How is he, Takari?" Ororo asked, her eyes sad, thinking about her friend and the pain he was certainly experiencing.
"Inconsolable. He will not let anyone near him beside myself. As soon as his mother closed her eyes the final time, he picked up the phone and dialed you. He told me that he did not want to see anyone other than you," Takari replied.
"But I do not understand why? I mean after what happened between us," she began but Takari gently interrupted her.
"My apologies, Ororo but may I speak freely?"
"Of course, Takari. We have always been open and honest with one another."
He smiled sadly. "The King has not been the same since that day," he whispered, forcing her to lean in close, "Though by outer appearances, he is doing well, but the spark that use to reside in his eyes faded and has not returned."
"That's unfortunate," Ororo said, standing, dropping her hold on her friend.
"It is and what's worse is that he does not want to admit it. But we know. On your birthday and the day that was your anniversary, he is different, withdrawn. He leaves the palace and would return, smelling of lavender."
She smiled sadly, thinking of the field of lavender that T'Challa had his staff to plant as a gift for her because of her love of the fragrance. She was surprised to learn that it still existed.
"Takari, what is the real reason why I am being retrieved from my home to return to a place where the memories are so painful?" she asked him, the question slightly rhetorical but she knew he would answer her.
She felt his presence next to her and you put his arms around her shoulder in a friendly, fatherly hold.
"The King of Wakanda needs you. There is only one other than me who can help him through this and it eats him up that he pushed that person away," Takari said, wiping the tear that fell from her eye. Gently, he turned her to face him, "The King was extremely surprised that you agreed to come. He said that it showed the strength of your friendship. Then he crumbled under the weight of his mother's death and the pain he caused you. I have to admit, my child, that he is hopeful, despite being a husband and a father of a small child, a boy of 4 months."
"Well, I hate to burst his bubble," she replied, her anger flaring, turning her eyes a darker shade of blue.
Takari chuckled, happy to see the strong woman who he had fallen in love with immediately after meeting and speaking with her over the 24 months of the couple's courtship.
"Oh, how it warms my heart to see my dearest Ororo, fiery as ever. You are truly a pleasing sight for this old man. Rest my dear, for we have a long journey ahead of us. I will check on you soon," he replied, before gently kissing her forehead and squeezing her hands.
Ororo watched as he left the compartment, headed but the next section. She returned to her seat and pulled out her iPod. Over the last 13 months, she had turned to music as a way of release. Her tastes ranged from Bach to the Ying Yang Twins.
Flipping through the television one night, she came across the view for Keyshia Cole's Trust and Believe. After downloading it to her iPod, that song became her mantra over the last 13 months, helping her along with Logan to regain all that she thought she lost as a result to her broken engagement.
She selected the song from the playlist and put it on repeat. As the song flowed through the speakers, the memories of her relationship flashed before her mind's eye.
Keyshia Cole's Trust and Believe
**When we were together, I held you down
**I gave you all of me, but look at us now
**Thinking of all your excuses, but they don't add up
**Now it's so easy to see you don't deserve my love
**You pushed me far...you brought me to this
**You had my heart...but then you blew it
**And I'm so over you, go get lost
**Boy who do you think that you are
**Trust and believe me, you're gonna need me
**Trust and believe me, she'll never be me
**And I'm so over you
**Go get lost
**Boy I don't know
**Who do you think that you are?
**You look so foolish
**With my best friend
**And she ain't no better than you
**She's a 3, I'm a ten
**So why are you calling my phone
**You ain't got nothing I want
**Thought we were really in love
**But that was all a front
Ororo and T'Challa's paths crossed one day while she was out with members of her village. They arrived at the marketplace and soon learned that the mighty King of Wakanda was nearby and decided to go and investigate. As they were walking toward the commotion, a tall, scrawny boy bumped into an equally tall Ororo.
"Excuse me, miss," he apologized in Swahili.
"It was nothing," she responded, brushing off the dust from her robe.
"It is a lovely color," he told her, motioning to her hair.
"Thank you," she replied, suddenly shy under his gaze.
"Are you going to see the King of Wakanda?" he inquired, falling in step with her. Her aunt looked back at her and frowned but did not speak, "You're mother?" he asked, seeing the woman's frown.
"My aunt," she replied, "Yes."
"Yes?" he asked, wondering why she said the word.
"You asked if I was going to see the King of Wakanda and my response is yes," she replied, smiling at his confusion.
"Ah, yes. I am sorry. I was distracted by the sea that is in your eyes," he replied, gazing intently into her face, smiling when she turned away shyly.
"I think he is up ahead. We should hurry so we can get close enough to hear," he told her, taking her hand and pulling her through the crowd, past her people toward the front.
When they emerged, they stood at the edge on the makeshift platform. Seeing the movement, the King announced, "Ah, and now my son finally decided to join me."
Son, Ororo thought, her eyes wide in disbelief as the boy who had her hand, lifted it to his lips to kiss before letting it go to join his father on the platform. Feeling eyes on her, Ororo suddenly angry, turned and made her way back through the crowd where her family stood. She stood next to her aunt and waited until they were ready to head back. As she stood there, she berated herself for her silliness in allowing the boy to pull her along like a puppy follows its mother. And the Prince no less, she thought, turning with her aunt and making their way back toward the marketplace.
They had traveled a short distance when the boy appeared suddenly, taking Ororo's hand.
"Why did you leave?" he demanded.
"Why didn't you tell me who you were?" she asked, angry that he had put her on the spot for the second time in a matter of minutes.
"You never asked my name so I didn't offer it," he replied, making her angrier.
"Release my hand."
"Young man, who are you?" Ororo's Aunt Ainet asked.
"My apologies ma'am. I am T'Challa, son of T'Chaka, the King of Wakanda."
"No, it is I who is sorry," her aunt immediately replied, bowing to the Prince. As she bowed, she looked at Ororo sternly, silently telling her to follow suit.
Sighing loudly, she reluctantly bowed quickly, snatching her hand from his, much to his amusement.
"T'Challa, ah there you are," King T'Chaka said as he neared him, "I wondered where you ran off too. Oh my, who is your beautiful friend?"
"Her name is Ororo, your majesty, the daughter of Princess N'Dare," Aunt Ainet told them, bowing again.
"Ah yes. My condolences, my dear child. How old is she now?" the King inquired, having known of Princess N'Dare and her tragic death.
"She is 12, sire," she replied, looking over at the girl who stood there, a scowl marring her beautiful face.
Ororo didn't like attention and hated how they spoke about her as if she wasn't there. Soon, the adults concluded their conversation and Ororo and her people began their trek back to the homeland, going in the opposite direction the King and his son traveled.
"I see you made a friend," T'Chaka teased his son as they sat comfortably in the carriage that would ferry them back to their palace.
"She wasn't very friendly," the 14 year old replied, wondering what was wrong with the girl.
"They never are at that age, especially when they have been embarrassed or felt like they were being made fun of," the King said astutely, picking up on the young girl's body language, "You still have much to learn, my son about the fairer sex. Thank goodness we still have some time."