The Eyes are the Windows to the Soul (2.)

M'Baku rummaged around in one of his many offices. The royal palace lacked no room to store things. He was preparing his bag of a few modest items for a quick trip to Jabari. Since taking his position as interim king, M'Baku had appointed a new head of Jabari land. But he still found himself checking up on things. Their crops. Their economy. His people.

He disliked using it but knew Shuri would ask if had he taken it, so he searched for his pair of kimoyo beads in the desk drawer. His steelcase chair twirled as he spun it away from the desk. Scissors. Tea bags. Pencils. Hologram paper. Tea mugs.

"I believe you're looking for this," a smooth voice said. M'Baku felt a pair of shiny beads pressed into his palm.

"Thank you, Ayo—" he began before throwing a stapler at the intruder. His mighty throw caused an indent in the wall where the stapler ricocheted off.

Unperturbed, the other man sidestepped the weapon. He was wearing a long white cape, beaded with jade and gold around his neck. Fancy enough to rival his luxurious furs. Still, he wore those ridiculous booty shorts in front of a man of his stature!

"I fear you must be directionally challenged. Our meeting is in the Wakandan conference room later today." M'Baku huffed. His hands were sweating a bit but he clenched them, putting on a strong face. Namor would be sushi before he wreaked havoc in the palace again.

Namor cornered him cooly. He touched a finger to one of M'Baku's books on hunting boars. Then, he looked at the family photo on his desk of his wives and many sons and daughters. He smiled and set the photo down.

"The surface man is duplicitous. However, I shouldn't be surprised as its your nature. No more than a snake has to slither or a bird has to fly."

"Pray tell me what you speak in circles about?"

With dark black piercing eyes, Namor answered him. "Honesty is everything. How did you think you could lie to me? Didn't you consider I might have my people patrolling and hearing what I cannot?"

Who did he think he was to threaten him?

M'Baku managed to knock him back with a mighty blow of his fist only to blink and see the fish back in front of him as if unmoved. M'Baku was no coward, but he also was no fool. He still knew the phantom pains of trying to go up against him.

"In the past, you've said you're not with her. The council says something differently. You're the leading candidate to become Shuri of the Golden Tribe's husband."

M'Baku swallowed and eyed him warily. "The council is like most bloated governments. They have their ideas, but nothing is set in stone."

"You lead this council."

"But I've to keep many happy. It's something I hadn't understood fully before.

"Who do you make happy by marrying the princess?"

He couldn't resist. "Some might say the lady herself?" He grinned like the cat with the canary and the fish.

Namor turned his head very slowly. For a man much shorter than him, he wasn't lacking in menacing nature.

"You think you're very funny."

"I think …" Glory to Hanuman, that he managed to say it with no stutter. "You're invested beyond the political alliance."

The other man smiled. M'Baku felt his mouth go dry. Fighting was easy. At least one won, died, or lived to fight another day. This man was unpredictable. Wakanda already dealt with a deficit by appeasing this crazed fish man.

He held his arms behind him, his cape dragging as he sauntered around M'Baku in a circle. "I've no room for liars. Once I've been burned, but twice? I'll be the one lighting the flames this time."

"Speak plainly."

"Wakanda cannot win against Talokan. You know this."

"And you can't win against her." M'Baku tilted his head. "You know this."

Namor's jaw tensed. He reached out a hand grabbing and squeezing his jawbone. M'Baku couldn't move Namor's hand away. It was like a vice grip.

Taking as much air as he could in Namor's restrained grip, M'Baku blew an out-breath. He was pulled to his shoulder. The Talokan man stared at him, unblinking.

"You don't want to win against her either." M'Baku sputtered.

He searched Namor's eyes. They were seemingly dark and stormy, murky with no clear reading to the average person. But he saw the gray clouds splitting, leaving a beam of light. A recognition of the truth that not even Namor could hide.

"Talokan is my only concern." Another death grip squeeze to the chin that he felt in the roots of his teeth. Only after two more squeezes did Namor release him with a dark laugh. Without permission, he sat in one of the office chairs at M'Baku's desk. "I'd expect to know all of Wakanda's major decisions. Your nation has a habit of involving us in your messes."

Inside, M'Baku fumed. But he wouldn't nurse his chin and give him the satisfaction.

Lord M'Baku's words were just as mighty as his fists. "But what of the concern of the heart? You're old, yes? With no one to share your exaggerated lifespan with? Kings tire of only subjects eventually. I'm left to infer why you're so disturbed by this revelation."

"You and I aren't the same. I don't lord over my people. I protect them. I'll protect them again by severing this farce alliance."

"Ku'uk'ulkan," M'Baku began trying to soothe him.

"Namor to you," he corrected, turning his head.

He threw out some fish bait. "Nay-mor, you're merely deceived. I'm a placeholder for Shuri's husband while we procure one for her." M'Baku paused for dramatic effect. "She's one of my concubines, as I've three wives already, but we couldn't control ourselves."

Holding the smile in once Namor's gaze locked back on him, M'Baku continued. "Already she carries my seed."

Namor's eyes were blown like a goldfish in an unnerving but amusing expression. Then, he covered his face with his hands. His shoulders were hunched and his body shook.

Oh dear, have I broken him? M'Baku thought. Should he call for the palace nurse? Or worse Shuri?

"I'll kill you," Namor whispered.

"And leave my child fatherless?"

"They wouldn't be without a father."

Where would the knife come from? Or the waterbomb? Or maybe the blue fish militia? As much as it pained him to admit, there wasn't an Okoye around to hold back that big one if he burst in. He was just one, very glorious and blessed by Hanuman himself, man. Maybe he could fight ten of his soldiers, but not the entire army, and certainly not with Namor floating around on his fairy wings either.

M'Baku twisted his neck around. Looking for the closest exit.

"When is she due?"

"Why would I tell you? And stay where I can see you! Right in front."

Namor roughly jumped up from his chair, walking slowly toward the bigger man.

M'Baku yelled. "I say the word, and this place becomes a sauna. Don't disrespect me." He was sure the kimoyo beads could do this ... if he remembered how to operate them. Were they touch-based or voice-activated? If only, he had paid closer attention to Shuri's one-on-one lessons now.

"Her due date is what I asked. How long have you been sneaking and hiding this?"

Oh, why was he this way? But he never liked taking orders. "Well, let's see. We just did the natural obligation six weeks ago. Or maybe it was yesterday? Or early this morning when my little M'Bakus met Shuri's ripe egg—"

M'Baku was thrown into the wall. It trembled violently and splintered into fissures but held still. That good ol African architecture! The sheer ferocity of Namor's punch left his head spinning. In a dizzy thought, M'Baku wondered if this was what his enemies felt from his punches.

"Aye! M'Baku! My love, are you okay?" He could hear from far away (or what seemed far away) the worried muttering of a woman. His woman? Was it Patience, Maryam, or Chioma he couldn't tell? His ears were ringing. When he touched one, his hand came away with a small streak of red. Not too much blood but a warning.

"Stay away! We're talking in strict confidentiality!" M'Baku yelled out, but his voice sounded weak even to him. The feminine footsteps stopped their approach.

His hazy eyes refocused on Namor's ankles. The slight breeze from his winged feet was comforting and helped clear his head.

Namor sighed with a conflicted expression but extended a hand to lift him. No apology but the gesture wasn't hostile.

"I've overstepped here."

M'baku slurred. Had his lip puffed up? But he steadied himself by placing a hand on Namor's shoulder.

"I understand when it comes to her you lose your cool." M'Baku held up his other hand in surrender. Namor tried to collect himself, running his hand through his hair. "But I was joking. I've not impregnated Shuri. She's like family."

"I don't appreciate being fooled," Namor told him, grumbling. "But I should've known. She's a goddess. It's inconceivable to lower her to such a status. She's meant to be worshipped! I'd devote my whole being to her as my only wife."

M'Baku blinked.

Namor blinked. Opened his mouth then shut it.

M'Baku blinked again and rubbed his face.

The uneasy silence lasted for a minute more.

Horror bloomed in Namor's eyes. He tore away from M'Baku, leaving him to stumble a bit, and faced the wall. His back was trembling.

"I …" The man started but couldn't finish.

M'Baku needed to pivot. After that slip of vulnerability, the fish man would return to violence to regain control.

"You care too much, but so does Shuri. She told me once she thought you and her were the same."

"What?"

"Well, if you hadn't busted my lip, maybe I could speak clearer, OH!"

Suddenly, the world shifted up. M'Baku had to tuck under to not hit his head against the ceiling.

Namor had lifted him like a new parent with a giggling baby. A sort of hug slash airborne hostage situation.

"Is this another joke of yours?" Namor questioned quietly. A wave of orange had warmed his brown eyes. Hopeful.

"I swear to Hanuman as my witness," M'Baku said solemnly. As a man of faith, they both knew how serious his statement was. "I cannot say for sure, but there's still some fondness … no, some understanding she has for you."

Namor set him down gently. He was thinking.

Truthfully, with all that had transpired, Namor had no right to desire her. But it was also no better way to keep him in check than with a wife. Happy wife, happy life. And Shuri was the only one who could make him kowtow. She didn't understand how far her reach was. This time she could probably beat him with just her affection.

His jaw was still sore, and his shoulder ached. How much more of Namor's boyhood antics could his body take?

"I'm not immune to Shuri's charm. But she's not just a pretty face; I've seen my share of beautiful women through the years though she may rank the highest. Only I want to be assured her husband won't interfere with our alliance. I was just shocked by the suddenness and that asinine pregnancy joke."

"You speak of your great need for honesty yet you lie to yourself."

Namor closed his eyes. His eyelashes twitched in deep thought.

"Nay-mor, man to man. Let's not lie to each other or ourselves. Trust me. It's okay."

Namor opened his eyes. His expression was lighter though he wasn't smiling. If he had admitted it to himself, that was good enough.

"Even still, I won't allow another man to marry Shuri."

M'Baku tried to get the crook out of his neck. "With all due respect, we cannot let a foreign power vote on Shuri's groom. It's a conflict of interest."

"I need to be on the ballot."

M'Baku laughed as much as his pained chest could. This guy, oh!

"You're hilarious. Being attracted to her is one thing. I could maybe see the appeal. She has a runway model look to her and—fish do not growl as dogs, Nay-mor. But you ask for an impossible task. Writing your name on the list and having Shuri willingly do a marriage interview with you? Preposterous! Haha!"

He wiped a tear from his eyes.

"Is this your first love, Nay-mor?"

"M'Baku, my patience runs low with you. But let me try my hand at comedy as well. Either I'm added as a candidate—no, chosen as her husband. Or, Wakanda falls."

The threat sobered his laughter quickly.

"You would stake a country's whole livelihood for the love of a woman?"

"She's not just some woman. She's a goddess fit only for her equal."

Choosing his words carefully, M'Baku said, "All you need is to get on the ballot for Shuri's marriage – I can persuade them. The council will pick the husband, but she can disqualify candidates. BUT you're your fishy self, so I'm sure you can endear her. Just don't talk about any mother-in-laws, fathers-in-laws, or brother-in-laws. Treat her as an orphan, okay? Blessings to you!"

M'Baku turned away ready to leave his own office. But Namor clamped a hand on his still aching back. He floated a few inches off the ground.

"To be in the running isn't enough. You're going to help me win her favor, King."

"Mr. Honesty wants to cheat?"

Namor's teeth glinted from the office's low lighting.

What an ugly smile, he thought.

"No, you'll be my advisor. Tell me what she likes and dislikes. Give me opportunities to be with her alone. Speak favorably of me. I can turn her heart toward me if given the chance." His voice took on a softer tone. "There's nothing she would desire with me that I couldn't provide."

Besides, a sane husband?

M'Baku held his tongue. Namor was more far gone than he had thought. He was perhaps, teetering on unhinged. How much could he deceive him without Wakanda hanging in the balance? Shuri staying single would keep the status quo, but the young woman hadn't opposed the marriage prospects. She would get her second family one way or another.

"Nay-mor, I'll try—"

"Try isn't enough. I'll try not to decimate your country. See how that is?"

M'Baku resisted the urge to scream.

"I'll help you on two conditions: 1. You don't harm my immediate family or Jabari land in any way. Shuri can handle you, but I won't tolerate you dragging innocents into your mayhem." M'Baku was deadly serious. He would lose a thousand times and fight Namor back a thousand and one if it meant protecting his wives and children.

Namor nodded. "You've my word, Lord M'Baku. I'm not unreasonable."

"And two: your forgiveness. You must not strike another Wakandan during this arranged marriage search."

"For?"

"I may have told—overheard someone close to Shuri revealing your feelings for her."