The Giant Muscular Prince No Woman Wanted to Marry | African Folktales Story
Ah, this is becoming an embarrassment. The queen’s voice rang through the grand palace hall like a sharp slap. Tell me, what exactly is wrong with my son? Silence. The royal advisors, the palace maids, even the guards standing by the door, all kept their heads down. No one dared to speak.
King Williams, the mighty king of Lagos, sat on his throne, fingers tapping on the golden armrest. He was a man of few words, but his sigh was loud enough to echo through the chamber. Obinna, he finally said, turning to his firstborn. This is the fourth engagement, the fourth. What exactly happened this time? Prince Obinna Williams stood tall, too tall in fact.
At nearly 7 ft with shoulders as wide as the palace doorway, he had the kind of presence that made people nervous. His deep brown skin glowed under the torchlight. His arms were as thick as tree trunks, and his voice rumbled when he spoke. She left, he said simply. The queen threw her hands in the air. Of course she left. They all do.
But why? Obinna glanced at his mother. Because she was scared. Scared? Scared of what? Obinna clenched his jaw. Me. The queen let out an exasperated sigh. Oh, for heaven’s sake. This is ridiculous. How can a prince, my son, be feared by the very women who should be fighting to marry him? A long pause stretched in the room.
Then, Chief Okeke, one of the oldest advisors, cleared his throat. Your majesty, with all due respect, it is his size. The queen shot him a sharp look. His size? He is a prince, not a monster. That is not how they see it. Chief Okeke said carefully. People talk. They say a man this big, this strong, is dangerous. Do I look dangerous to you? Obinna asked.
His deep voice cutting through the room like a blade. Chief Okeke swallowed hard. No, your highness, of course not. But the women, they fear they might not survive in marriage with you. A chuckle broke the heavy silence. It came from the far end of the room where Obinna’s younger brother, Prince Emeka, sat with his legs crossed, looking completely unbothered.
Maybe, Emeka said, smirking, they think you’ll break them in two. A few nervous laughs rippled across the room, but Obinna wasn’t amused. His jaw tightened. The queen shot Emeka a glare. You find this funny? Emeka shrugged. Well, it’s not exactly surprising. A man like Obinna, strong as 10 men, tall as a palm tree, voice like thunder, and people expect women to run into his arms. He snorted.
Maybe we should start looking for a bride outside Lagos. Perhaps in the land of giants. Emeka, leave. The queen snapped. Emeka stood, still grinning, and walked out of the hall, throwing Obinna a wink as he passed. Obinna turned to his mother. You see? Even my own brother thinks it’s a joke. The queen shook her head.
This is not a joke, Obinna. This is about the future of the throne. A king without a queen is like a ship without a captain. You must marry. You must have an heir. Obinna rubbed his face, suddenly feeling exhausted. Mother, what do you want me to do? Should I force a woman to marry me? The queen’s lips pressed into a thin line. No.
But you must find a wife before the next festival. That is final. Obinna stared at her, searching her face for any sign that she might change her mind. She didn’t. King Williams finally spoke again. Obinna, your mother is right. This is bigger than you. The throne needs stability. Obinna’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
And what if no one wants me? What then? The queen lifted her chin. Then you are not looking in the right place. A heavy silence settled over the room, the kind that made Obinna feel like a prisoner in his own home. That night, Obinna sat in his chambers, staring at his reflection in the polished bronze mirror.
He had heard the whispers for years. He’s too big. What if he gets angry? He’ll crush a woman without trying. They say he once lifted a whole canoe by himself. Ah, I cannot be his wife. It didn’t matter that he had never harmed anyone. It didn’t matter that he was gentle, careful with his strength, more than anyone could imagine.
People only saw the muscles, the size, the power. They never saw the man. A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts. His personal guard, Titus, stepped in, bowing slightly. Your highness, should I prepare your bed? Obinna shook his head. No. I won’t be sleeping tonight. Titus hesitated. Something is troubling you. Obinna let out a humorless chuckle.
Isn’t it obvious? Titus said nothing. He had served Obinna for years. He knew when to listen and when to speak. Finally, Obinna leaned back in his chair and exhaled. Tell me, Titus, if I were not a prince, do you think someone would love me for who I am? Titus frowned. Your highness, be honest.
The guard was silent for a long time before he spoke. I think the world sees what it wants to see. Some see strength, some see fear. But the right person, the right person will see you. Obinna’s chest tightened. And what if I never find that person? Titus met his eyes. Then maybe it is time to stop looking in the palace.
The next morning, before the sun rose, Obinna made his decision. He would leave. Not as Prince Obinna Williams of Lagos, not as the heir to the throne, but as a common man. If the world could not love the prince, then perhaps someone could love the man. The smell of fish hit him first. It was thick, salty, and mixed with the scent of damp wood and smoke from the small cooking stalls that lined the shore.
The sound of Lagos Island was different from the palace. No guards announcing his arrival, no royal advisors murmuring in the background. Just the steady rhythm of waves slapping against wooden boats and the occasional shouts of traders calling out their prices. Obinna adjusted the simple brown tunic he had borrowed from one of the palace servants.
It felt odd, light, plain, nothing like the royal robes he was used to. He had left his gold, his rings, his fine leather sandals behind. Here, he was just Obinna the fisherman. And for the first time in a long while, nobody stared at him like a beast. Well, almost nobody. A group of young boys stood a few feet away, their eyes wide, mouths open in shock.
/PART 2/
One of them nudged the other, whispering, Who is this giant? Maybe he’s a wrestler. No, no, look at his hands. Those are warrior hands. Obinna sighed. He wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than being feared by noblewomen. Hey, you. A gruff voice called out. Obinna turned to see an older man standing by a wooden fishing boat.
His skin was dark from years in the sun, and his arms were lean but strong. He squinted up at Obinna, unimpressed. You just going to stand there like a tree, or are you here to work? Obinna straightened. I need work. The man raised an eyebrow. You? A big man like you wants to be a fisherman? Obinna nodded. Yes. The man stared at him for a moment, then let out a short laugh. Fine.
Let’s see if those muscles of yours can do more than just scare people. Obinna learned fast. He had never fished before, at least not in the way these men did. In the palace, everything was served to him on silver trays, cooked to perfection. Here, he had to wake before dawn, wade into the water, drag in heavy nets, and gut fish with his bare hands.
The first time he tried, he nearly lost his footing in the shifting sand. The other fishermen laughed. You may be big, one of them said, grinning, but the ocean does not fear muscles. Obinna grinned back. Then I will learn to work with the ocean. And he did. Within days, he was hauling in more fish than most men on the shore.
He carried heavy baskets like they were filled with feathers. He helped old women lift their loads and fixed broken stalls without a second thought. Slowly, the people of Lagos Island stopped whispering about his size and started calling him when they needed an extra hand. For the first time in his life, Obinna felt useful.
But it wasn’t until he met Adanna that he truly felt seen. Hey, big man. Obinna turned to see a woman standing in front of him, hands on her hips. She was short compared to him, then again, everyone was short compared to him, but she stood tall in spirit. Her dark skin gleamed under the sun, her eyes sharp, her lips curled into something between amusement and annoyance.
If you’re just going to stand there looking scary, at least help me lift this sack of yams. Obinna blinked. Then, without a word, he reached down and picked up the sack as if it weighed nothing. Adanna narrowed her eyes. Show-off. Obinna smirked. You asked for help. She rolled her eyes. I didn’t ask you to carry it like you were lifting a feather.
You trying to make the rest of us look weak? Obinna chuckled. Would you rather I struggle? Yes, Adanna said flatly. Just a little. So I don’t feel like a baby next to you. Obinna laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made some heads turn. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. Adanna waved her hand impatiently. Come on, bring it inside.
She led him to a small but lively pepper soup joint. The smell of sizzling fish and hot spices filled the air. Obinna looked around. Customers sat on wooden benches, their mouths full, sweat dripping down their foreheads as they ate. You sell a lot of food, he observed. Of course, Adanna said, tying her wrapper tighter.
People come here for the best pepper soup in Lagos. She tilted her head. You eat pepper soup, big man? Obinna nodded. Yes. She grinned. Good. Sit. Before he could protest, she pushed him onto a stool, disappeared into the back, and returned with a steaming bowl. The smell alone made his stomach growl.
Eat, she ordered. Obinna picked up a spoon, took one bite, and immediately felt fire explode in his mouth. He coughed. It’s spicy. Adanna burst into laughter. Ah, big man can lift a sack of yams but can’t handle small pepper. Obinna coughed again, reaching for water. This is not small pepper. The customers nearby started laughing, too.
See his face, someone joked. Strong man, weak tongue, another added. Obinna wiped his brow, but he couldn’t help but chuckle. He liked this. The teasing, the laughter, it was different from the whispers he was used to. Adanna smirked. You’ll get used to it. Keep eating. Obinna hesitated, then took another bite. It still burned, but this time he focused on the flavor.
The rich broth, the tender fish, the warmth that spread through his body. It’s good, he admitted. Adanna beamed. Of course it’s good. I made it. From that day on, Obinna found himself returning to Adanna’s shop more often. Not just for the food, but for her. Adanna was different from anyone he had ever met. She didn’t treat him like a prince because she didn’t know he was a prince.
She didn’t treat him like a monster because she wasn’t afraid of him. She bossed him around, made him carry heavy sacks without asking twice, and teased him whenever she had the chance. You’re too big to be a fisherman, she told him one evening. Are you sure you’re not some runaway wrestler? Obinna smirked.
And if I was? Then you better use those muscles to knead dough in my kitchen. Obinna laughed. I don’t know how to cook. Adanna raised an eyebrow. You don’t? What kind of man doesn’t know how to cook? A prince, Obinna almost said, but he caught himself. Instead, he shrugged. The kind who was never taught. Adanna rolled her eyes. Useless muscles.
Obinna grinned. But they help you carry your sacks of yams, don’t they? Adanna clicked her tongue. Hmm, fair point. And just like that, she was back to stirring her pot, as if he was just another ordinary man, not a prince, not a giant, not a man the world feared. Obinna didn’t know it yet, but in that moment, he had found something far greater than work.
He had found home. Obinna was carrying two heavy baskets of fish when he heard her voice. Hey, big Obinna. He paused. Only one person in Lagos dared to call him that. Turning, he saw Adanna standing outside her pepper soup joint, hands on her hips, her wrapper tied tightly around her waist. She was frowning, her sharp eyes locked on him like he had committed a crime.
Obinna sighed. What did I do this time? Adanna folded her arms. That’s exactly what I want to know. Obinna frowned. What are you talking about? You’ve been avoiding my shop. Obinna shifted his weight. No, I haven’t. Adanna scoffed. Oh, really? So why haven’t I seen your big head in two days? Obi, is my pepper soup now too spicy for you? Obinna chuckled.
I’ve been working. Adanna narrowed her eyes. You work every day, but that never stopped you before. So what is it? You think I didn’t notice? Obinna sighed. He had been avoiding her. Not because he wanted to, but because something was happening inside him, something he didn’t know how to handle.
He liked her, a lot, more than he should, and that scared him. For years, every woman he met ran from him, rejected him, feared him. But Adanna, she was different. She saw him. She talked to him like he was just another man, not a giant, not a prince, not someone to be feared. And he didn’t know what to do with that.
Adanna stepped closer, tilting her head. You’re thinking too much, big Obinna. I can see it all over your face. I do not think too much, he muttered. Adanna smirked. Ah, so you admit it. Something is bothering you. Obinna exhaled. There was no escaping this woman. I’ve just been trying to stay busy. Adanna rolled her eyes.
Busy doing what? Carrying fish? Lifting boats? Carrying the entire ocean on your back? Obinna couldn’t help but laugh. Something like that. Adanna shook her head. You know, you’re a strange man. Am I? Yes. You’re big, but you move like you’re afraid of your own shadow. You’re strong, but you never use your strength unless you have to.
And now, instead of coming to eat my delicious food, you’re pretending to be too busy. She clicked her tongue. I don’t believe you. Obinna smiled slightly. You don’t have to believe me. Good, because I don’t. Adanna wiped her hands on her wrapper. Now you’re going to drop those fish, sit down, and eat. Obinna hesitated. Adanna. No Adanna me.
You’re acting like a lost puppy, and I don’t like it. Now sit down. Obinna sighed. He had fought in wrestling matches, lifted canoes, even dragged in nets bigger than himself. But somehow arguing with Adanna felt harder than all of that. Without another word, he followed her inside. Adanna’s shop was noisy as usual.
Customers filled the benches, slurping hot soup, their faces sweating but satisfied. The air smelled of smoked fish, hot pepper, and fresh herbs. Adanna placed a bowl of pepper soup in front of Obinna and sat across from him, watching. You’re not eating, she said. I will. Now. Obinna chuckled and picked up his spoon.
The first sip sent heat down his throat, but this time he didn’t cough. He had grown used to her spices. Adanna smirked. See? You’re learning. Obinna swallowed. Your food is good. That’s why people keep coming back. Adanna grinned. Of course. I have the best pepper soup in Lagos. Obinna shook his head. You really like yourself, don’t you? Adanna leaned back.
If I don’t, who will? Obinna smiled. He liked that about her. She was confident, bold, unafraid to speak her mind. She was everything he had never seen in the noble women of the palace. Adanna, he said, his voice softer now. She raised an eyebrow. Hmm. He hesitated, then asked, Why aren’t you married? Adanna blinked.
Then she laughed. Me? Married? Yes. Adanna shook her head. Ah, big Obinna, you ask funny questions. It’s a serious question. Adanna leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. All right, since you’re asking like an old man looking for gossip, I’ll tell you. I’m not married because I haven’t found a man who can handle me.
Obinna tilted his head. Handle you? Yes. Adanna smirked. You see, most men want a woman who will bow her head, smile sweetly, and say yes, my lord, to everything they say. But me, I talk too much. I argue. I don’t take nonsense. And that scares them. Obinna frowned. That is foolish. Adanna shrugged. Maybe, but that’s how it is.
She pointed her spoon at him. What about you? Why aren’t you married? Obinna’s jaw tightened. You know why. Adanna’s playful expression faded. She sat back, studying him. Because people fear you. Yes. Adanna was quiet for a moment, then said, That’s their loss. Obinna looked at her. Do you fear me? Adanna scoffed. If I feared you, would I be here bossing you around? Obinna chuckled. I suppose not.
Adanna leaned forward again. Listen, big Obinna, people will always talk. They will always fear what they don’t understand. That’s their problem, not yours. Obinna stared at her. You don’t talk like other women. Adanna grinned. And you don’t act like other men. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, something unspoken passing between them.
Then, just as quickly, Adanna stood up. Now, enough talking. You eat, you work, and tomorrow you come back here. No excuses. Obinna smiled. Yes, ma’am. Adanna smirked. Good. Now, finish your soup before it gets cold. Obinna watched as she walked away, her voice already rising as she scolded another customer for trying to sneak out without paying.
He shook his head, smiling to himself. Adanna was different, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t afraid of that. It started with laughter, loud, drunken laughter that rang through the streets like the sound of a storm warning. Obinna was sitting at his usual corner in Adanna’s pepper soup joint, enjoying his meal while she bustled around, scolding customers and shouting orders at her workers.
The night was lively, filled with chatter and the rich smell of smoked fish and hot spices. It was a normal evening, until the laughter turned into shouting. Then came the crashing sound of a wooden stool hitting the ground. The entire shop fell silent. Obinna looked up just as a group of four men stumbled through the entrance. Their eyes bloodshot, their steps unsteady.
The smell of palm wine clung to them like sweat. One of them, a tall man with a scar across his cheek, kicked another stool aside and grinned. Adanna! He bellowed, his voice thick with drink. Bring us some pepper soup, the strongest one you’ve got. Adanna wiped her hands on her wrapper and folded her arms. You have money? The men laughed.
Money? Scarface scoffed. Ah, Adanna, is that how you welcome your old friends? You are not my friend, Adanna said flatly. If you have money, sit down and eat. If you don’t, leave. Scarface’s smile faded. The other men shifted, their drunken amusement turning into something darker. Ah, Adanna, one of them slurred.
You’ve been acting too bold these days. Maybe you need someone to remind you how to speak to men properly. The words were light, but the meaning behind them was heavy. Obinna’s grip tightened around his spoon. Adanna didn’t flinch. She took a step forward, her chin lifted. You want to remind me? She said, her voice sharp. Then come.
Let me remind you that I am not your mother, and I will not tolerate nonsense in my shop. The men laughed again, but this time it was not friendly. Scarface stepped closer. You talk too much, Adanna, he murmured. Maybe you need a man, too. Obinna stood up. The sound of his wooden stool scraping against the floor cut through the air like a blade.
For the first time since they walked in, the men seemed to notice him. Scarface turned, his eyes trailing up and up until he was staring at Obinna’s broad chest. He blinked, then took an uncertain step back. Obinna’s voice was calm, but it carried weight. Leave. Scarface hesitated, then forced a chuckle. Ah, see this one. Who are you to tell me what to do? Obinna didn’t answer. He just stared.
Scarface’s grin faltered. His friends exchanged nervous glances. Even in their drunken state, they could feel it, the quiet strength radiating from Obinna. One of the men cleared his throat. Maybe we should. No, Scarface snapped, recovering his bravado. You think because you’re big, you can scare me? He turned back to Adanna. This is not over.
He reached for her wrist. Adanna moved back instantly, but before she could say anything, Obinna was already there. His hand clamped around Scarface’s wrist. The entire shop went silent again. Scarface winced. Let go. Obinna didn’t tighten his grip. He didn’t need to. His strength was not about force, it was about control.
I told you to leave, he said, his voice like distant thunder. Scarface tried to yank his hand free. He failed. You’re hurting me, he hissed. Obinna let go. Scarface stumbled back, rubbing his wrist. His face burned with embarrassment. He turned to his friends. What are you looking at? He thinks he’s strong? Let’s show him real strength.
The other men hesitated, but Scarface had already thrown the first punch. It was a mistake. Obinna barely moved. He sidestepped the blow effortlessly, then placed a single hand on Scarface’s chest and pushed. Scarface flew backward like a leaf caught in the wind, crashing into a table. The other men panicked.
One grabbed a bottle and charged. Obinna caught his wrist in midair. With one flick of his hand, the bottle clattered to the ground. The man yelped, twisting away. The third man tried to tackle him from behind. Obinna stepped aside, and the man tumbled forward, landing flat on his face. By the time the fourth man took a step forward, he saw his friends groaning on the floor and decided against it.
Scarface scrambled to his feet, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His eyes flicked between Obinna and Adanna, then he spat on the ground. This isn’t over, he muttered before turning and stumbling out of the shop. His men followed quickly. Silence. Obinna turned back to Adanna.
Are you all right? Adanna stared at him. The rest of the shop stared, too. No one spoke for a long time. Then a whisper. Did you see how he threw that man? He didn’t even use full strength. That kind of power, it’s not normal. Obinna’s stomach tightened. The whispers, the same whispers that had followed him all his life.
Adanna’s expression was unreadable. You should go, she said finally. Obinna frowned. Adanna, please. It wasn’t anger in her voice. It wasn’t fear, either, but it was something, something he couldn’t place. Slowly, Obinna nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked away. The night air was cold. Obinna sat by the shore, staring at the dark waves rolling in.
The fight replayed in his mind, but it wasn’t the fight that bothered him. It was the after, the whispers, the way people had looked at him, the way Adanna had looked at him. She hadn’t been afraid, not like the others, but something had changed. He heard footsteps. You really threw that man like he was a piece of cloth, a familiar voice said.
Obinna didn’t turn. Titus, his guard, his only real friend, sat beside him. I heard what happened. Obinna exhaled. Then you know why I’m out here. Titus nodded. They’re talking. They always do. But this time it matters, doesn’t it? Obinna was silent. Titus sighed. It wasn’t your fault, you know. You defended her. You defended everyone.
It doesn’t matter, Obinna muttered. In the end, they all see the same thing. Titus studied him. And what does Adanna see? Obinna shook his head. I don’t know. Titus leaned back. She’ll come around. Obinna wasn’t so sure. He had felt something with Obinna, something real. But now everything felt different.
He didn’t belong here. He never had, and maybe he never would. Obinna had never been this nervous before, not even in the palace, when he had stood before his father, the mighty King Williams, as he was scolded for another failed engagement. But this, this was different. Adanna sat across from him in her small shop, arms folded, one eyebrow raised.
The fire from the cooking pit flickered, casting shadows on the walls. Outside, the market was alive with voices, the sound of traders calling out their goods, the laughter of children running between stalls. But inside, it was quiet, too quiet. Adanna tapped her fingers on the table. You were going to leave without telling me the truth, weren’t you? Obinna sighed.
Adanna, it’s not. Don’t lie. Obinna shut his mouth. Adanna leaned forward. I know a nobleman when I see one, Obinna. You might be wearing a fisherman’s tunic, but you walk like a man who is used to people bowing when he enters a room. Obinna swallowed. He should have known Adanna wouldn’t just let things go.
She was too smart, too sharp. Adanna, he hesitated. What do you want me to say? Adanna tilted her head. The truth. Obinna exhaled. He looked around the shop as if searching for a way out. There wasn’t one. Finally, he met her eyes. I am the son of King Williams, he said. The first son, the crown prince of Lagos.
Adanna didn’t blink. She didn’t gasp. She didn’t look shocked. She just stared at him for a long moment, as if studying his face, making sure he wasn’t joking. Then she let out a short laugh. Obinna frowned. You’re laughing. Adanna leaned back, shaking her head. Of course you’re a prince, she muttered.
It all makes sense now. You don’t seem surprised. Adanna smirked. Oh, I’m surprised, but I’m also not. Obinna ran a hand over his face. I thought you’d be angry. Angry? Why? Because I lied. Adanna scoffed. You didn’t lie. You just didn’t tell me everything. Obinna looked at her. That’s the same thing.
No, it’s not, Adanna said. Lying is when you tell me you’re a fisherman when you’re really a prince. But you are a fisherman, aren’t you? Obinna hesitated. Well, yes. Then you didn’t lie. Adanna shrugged. You just left out some important details. Obinna blinked. That’s how you see it? Yes. He shook his head. You really are different. Adanna grinned.
I’ve been telling you that since the first day we met. Obinna let out a breath. He had expected anger, accusations, maybe even betrayal, but Adanna was calm, amused even. You don’t care that I’m a prince? He asked. Adanna rolled her eyes. Why should I care? A title doesn’t change who you are, Obinna. Obinna stared at her.
You’re the first person who has ever said that to me. Adanna’s smile softened. Then you’ve been around the wrong people. Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t heavy. It was warm, comfortable. Obinna rubbed the back of his neck. I don’t know what happens next, he admitted. Adanna raised an eyebrow.
Next? Now that you know? Adanna shrugged. Nothing changes. Obinna frowned. Nothing? Nope. She stood up, tying her wrapper tighter. You’re still big Obinna. You still owe me for all the free pepper soup I’ve given you. And you’re still going to help me carry sacks of yams tomorrow morning. Obinna chuckled. That’s it? Adanna smirked.
What else do you want me to say? Oh, my prince, forgive me for not bowing before you? Obinna laughed. Please don’t. Adanna leaned on the table. Good, because I wasn’t planning to. Obinna watched her, something warm settling in his chest. He had spent his whole life being treated like something he wasn’t, like a beast, like a man whose strength made him dangerous.
But Adanna, she saw him, just him. And for the first time in his life, he felt like that was enough. Adanna, he said quietly. Hmm? He hesitated, then smiled. Thank you. Adanna waved a hand. Don’t start getting emotional on me. Big Obinna. He laughed again. But deep down, he meant it. Because for the first time, he wasn’t running.
And it was all because of her. Are you serious? Adanna stared at Obinna like he had just told her he could fly. Obinna shifted uncomfortably. Yes. Adanna crossed her arms. You’re telling me that after all this time, after all this hiding, you want to go back to the palace? Obinna exhaled. I have to. Adanna scoffed.
Why? Obinna hesitated. How could he explain? How could he put into words the weight of responsibility he had been running from, the duty that had been looming over him since birth? He rubbed his face. Adanna, I left the palace because I didn’t want to be a prince who no one could love, but I can’t run forever.
Adanna raised an eyebrow. And who said you should run forever? Obinna glanced at her. She sighed. Listen, big Obinna, I’m not saying you shouldn’t go back. I’m just trying to understand why. Obinna looked away. My father is expecting me to return with a wife. Adanna blinked. Then she burst into laughter. Obinna frowned. What’s funny? Adanna wiped a tear from her eye. So, let me get this straight.
You ran away because no woman wanted to marry you. Now you want to go back because your father still expects you to be married. Obinna sighed. It’s more complicated than that. Adanna smirked. No, it’s exactly that. Obinna didn’t argue. She wasn’t wrong. Adanna leaned on the table. And tell me, Prince Obinna, do you have a wife now? Obinna hesitated. Adanna grinned. Exactly.
Obinna ran a hand through his hair. It’s not that simple. Adanna shrugged. It is, actually. Unless you’re thinking of taking me with you. Obinna’s head snapped up. Adanna laughed again. Ah, that was the plan, wasn’t it? Obinna looked away. Adanna clicked her tongue. Wow, you’re not even denying it. Obinna rubbed his temples.
Adanna, no, no, let’s talk about this. She gestured dramatically. So, you want to take me, a common pepper soup seller, back to your royal palace, and introduce me to your very serious parents as your future wife? Obinna inhaled. Yes. Adanna’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked at him like he had lost his mind. You’re not joking? No.
Adanna stared at him for a long time. Then she leaned back in her chair. Hmm? Obinna frowned. What does “hmm” mean? Adanna tapped her chin. It means I’m thinking. Thinking about what? If I should go with you or not. Obinna’s heart pounded. Adanna. She waved a hand. Relax, big Obinna. You look like you’re about to faint.
Obinna sighed. He felt like he was about to faint. Adanna grinned. All right, I’ll go. Obinna’s eyes widened. You will? She nodded. Yes. Obinna blinked. He hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. Why? Adanna shrugged. Because I’m curious. I want to see this palace of yours. I want to see if your mother is really as scary as you say. Obinna groaned. Adanna.
Adanna smirked. Oh, and also, I want to see the faces of all those nobles when they realize the prince they rejected is bringing me home instead. Obinna chuckled. You enjoy trouble too much. Adanna grinned. And you need someone who does. Obinna shook his head. This is a bad idea. Adanna’s eyes twinkled. But you love it. He did.
The palace was exactly as Obinna remembered. Tall golden gates, high walls decorated with royal carvings, guards in crisp uniforms standing at attention. But something about it felt smaller. Maybe because he had spent so much time outside. Maybe because, for the first time, he was seeing it with different eyes.
Not bad, Adanna muttered as they walked through the gates. It’s big, but I expected more gold. Obinna chuckled. There’s enough inside. Adanna nudged him. I hope your mother likes me. Obinna swallowed. About that. Too late. A loud voice rang through the air. Prince Obinna. Obinna winced. He turned to see his mother, the queen, marching down the steps.
She was dressed in deep blue, her head wrap towering above her like a crown. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, scanned him from head to toe. You finally return, she said, her voice clipped. Obinna bowed his head slightly. Mother. The queen’s eyes flicked to Adanna. And who is this? Adanna smiled sweetly. Your majesty, my name is Adanna. The queen’s gaze did not soften.
And what is your purpose here? Adanna didn’t flinch. I came with Obinna. Silence. Then the queen raised an eyebrow. You brought her? Obinna cleared his throat. Yes. The queen folded her arms. And why would you do that? Obinna met her gaze. Because she is the woman I have chosen. The silence was deafening. Adanna smirked.
Your majesty, your son is strong, but I’m stronger. And I’m here to stay. A slow, amused smile crept onto the queen’s lips. She turned to Obinna. You have chosen a bold one. Obinna nodded. Yes. The queen studied Adanna again. Then she sighed. Very well. Come inside. As they followed her into the palace, Adanna leaned toward Obinna. See? That wasn’t so bad.
Obinna exhaled. It’s not over yet. Adanna grinned. Good. I like a challenge. Obinna just shook his head. She really was impossible. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Obinna had faced many challenges in his life. He had lifted canoes, wrestled the strongest men in Lagos, and carried sacks of fish that would make lesser men crumble.
But nothing had ever been as terrifying as standing in the palace hall with Adanna, waiting for his mother’s final decision. The queen sat on her golden throne, her face unreadable. The high-ranking chiefs sat beside her, their expressions carefully neutral. A row of noble women whispered among themselves, their eyes flicking to Adanna, taking in her simple wrapper, the confident tilt of her chin, the way she stood without fear.
It was clear what they were thinking. This one, this common woman, does she even know how to curtsy properly? Is this the prince’s choice? Ah, what an embarrassment. Obinna clenched his fists. He wanted to speak, to tell them all to be quiet, but he knew that would only make things worse. Adanna, however, had no such hesitation.
She turned to him and whispered, They talk too much. Obinna almost laughed. Of course she would say that. The queen cleared her throat, and the hall fell silent. So, she said, folding her hands in her lap, You are the woman my son has chosen. Adanna met her gaze directly. Yes, your majesty. A slow smirk tugged at the queen’s lips.
And you are not afraid? Adanna shrugged. Afraid of what? Murmurs rippled through the crowd. No one spoke to the queen like that. The queen arched an eyebrow. Do you know what it means to be a prince’s wife? The expectations? The responsibilities? Adanna nodded. “I know that it means I will have to stand beside him, no matter what.
I know that it means I will have to be strong. Not just for myself, but for him, too.” Obinna’s chest tightened. The queen tilted her head. “And you believe you are strong enough for that?” Adanna smirked. “Your majesty, I run a pepper soup joint in Lagos. I wake up before the sun. I deal with stubborn customers. I fight off thieves.
I carry sacks of yams, and I make the best soup in the city.” She paused, then added, “Your son is strong, but I am stronger.” Silence, then laughter. The queen chuckled, shaking her head. “You are bold. I will give you that.” Adanna grinned. “It’s one of my best qualities.” The queen exhaled, then turned to Obinna. “And you?” Obinna stood taller.
“She is the one I choose.” The queen studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “Very well.” The hall erupted in murmurs again. Some in shock, some in disapproval, but no one dared to argue. Obinna blinked. “Just like that?” The queen shrugged. “What do you expect me to say? You left this palace searching for a woman who would not fear you.
And now, you bring me one who does not even fear me.” She turned to Adanna. “If she is strong enough to challenge me, she is strong enough to stand beside you.” Adanna grinned. “I like you, your majesty.” The queen smirked. “Don’t push it.” Obinna let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It was done. Adanna was accepted. She was his.
The wedding was the grandest Lagos had ever seen. The streets were filled with dancers, drummers, and singers. Traders gave out free food, and children ran through the crowds with flowers in their hands. Obinna stood in the palace courtyard, dressed in the royal garments of a prince. Deep blue agbada, embroidered with gold.
A coral bead crown resting on his head. He had never liked the weight of royal robes before, but today they felt right. Because today he wasn’t just a prince. He was a man who had found love. The palace doors opened, and Adanna stepped out. The crowd gasped. She wore a deep red wrapper with gold patterns.
Her hair braided with beads. Her wrists lined with ivory bangles. But it wasn’t the clothes that made people stare. It was the way she carried herself. Head high, shoulders back. A woman who feared nothing. A woman who belonged by his side. As she walked towards him, Obinna couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “You look strong.
” Adanna interrupted, smirking. Obinna chuckled. “Beautiful.” Adanna blinked, then cleared her throat. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself, big Obinna.” The priest stepped forward. “Are you ready?” Obinna met Adanna’s eyes. “I’ve been ready for a long time.” Adanna smiled. “Then let’s do this.” And just like that, the gentle giant of Lagos became the prince who found love.
