My African Prince

Dante ran like a mad man.

  That was an understatement. Even a mad man will call him mad with the way he ran, so typical of a mad bull that had spotted a red rag.

  The dim moonlight illuminated his path as he ran on the snowy pathway, his lungs about to burst, the freezing breeze frosting his nose and finger tips, turning his tears into ice even before they barely left his eyes.

  He was usually the type to get scared by the hoots and moos of nocturnal animals, and even the night itself, but that didn't matter to him anymore, not that night, not when he was about to be taken away from the love of his life.

  He had to see her, even though his feet were freezing and could break off at any instance, even though he could barely breathe through his nose, he still had to see her, at least one last time.

  A few miles away from the dark pathway, the moon stood tall over a house in the open field. The windows of this very house gave out yellow light, a clear indicator of the lighted candles that were used all over the house.

  On one of the windows at the west wing, a pretty young lady sat before her mirror in her satin night gown, her blonde hair laid down, shining in the candlelight and tripping down her back, almost reaching to her waist. An older woman stood behind her, slowly brushing her hair with a large comb that could easily pass off as a rake.

  “ All done”, the older woman said, holding the girl's shoulders and bringing her face close.

  “ Thank you mom”, Elizabeth said, not really sure if she truly felt thankful.

  “ You're welcome. Now go to bed”, her mom said, stepping out of the bedroom. It had become a kind of tradition for her mother to brush her blonde silk hair every night before she went to bed, a ritual which she insists will form a mother-daughter bond but never did, not past the formalities.

  She blew off her candle, making the room go dark, only being able to find her way around with the little vision provided by the rays of the moon. She laid on her bed but sleep wasn't forthcoming, and so she went to the window to gaze into the night sky and possibly count the stars. It was snowing, but she was never one to be bothered by the cold.

  As she was still gazing around, looking for something that wasn't looking for her, she got a whimp of something in the nearby woods.

  Her heart skipped a beat. A thief.

  She was about to scream at the top of her voice when she actually noticed that the thief was wearing Dante's signature cloth.

  Did the thief rob Dante before considering her place? That won't be possible, if it were to be, that would mean that Dante will be completely naked in the freezing snow.

  The thief got closer and closer, and as he started to climb the rails on the wall, she needed no other confirmation; it was Dante.

  “ What in heaven's name are you doing here?” She asked after helping him into her room, “ you do realize that my mother will have me crucified if she were to have knowledge of you being here”.

  “ I'm very sorry, but I had to see you”, he said, still panting as he sat on the floor, with Elizabeth towering over him like a scolding mother and her two year old.

  “ Had to see me for what? We met just a few hours ago”, she said, trying so hard not to remember their kiss, if not, it will spurge another one, and given that they were in a room that had a bed, it might definitely lead to a chemical and physical reaction whose result will be an unwanted baby.

  “ I know, but something happened”, he stood up to his feet, helping Elizabeth realize that she was indeed a short one.

  “ What happened?” She asked, sensing the seriousness in his voice.

  “ My father, he wants to…… he's going to use me as a political pawn”, he was obviously fighting back tears. He had to be tougher than that; at least that was what he was raised to believe.

  “ What do you mean?” She grabbed his arms, trying to find his eyes in the darkness.

  She knew too well about the fact that his father was recently elected as the prime minister to the queen, hell, everyone in England knew, but how his father was going to use him, an illegitimate child, as a political pawn was what she couldn't comprehend.

  “ Is he going to marry you off?” She asked again even before he could answer her, knowing too well that it can't be a marital affair. Lord Weaselton might be influential, but no house in England would agree to wed their daughter to his illegitimate son.

  “ Yes, it is”, Dante said.

  “ It can't be. It's not…….. how is that…..”, she couldn't believe her ears.

  “ But it's not here”, he quickly added.

  “ Then where? Where does he intend to marry you off?” She was crying at this point.

  “ Wakanda”, he gulped, realizing everything all over again.

  “ Wakanda? Like, the very Wakanda under our colonization?”

  “ It's a marriage treaty. He needs their support if he is to stay in power and…… I was the perfect fit to be sent on the suicide mission”, a drop of tear finally escaped, but he maintained composure.

  “ That can't be. It's not possible. The state of Wakanda doesn't have a princess”.

  “ It has a prince”.

  “ Hakim? You're getting married to prince Hakim?” She asked, her voice resounding on the walls, betraying her quest for silence.

  Dante nodded. There was nothing more he could say.

  “ But how? We just started…. We just began….how can…. Oh, we just had our first kiss, how can you leave now, no, no”, she paced around, more stream running down her eyes, soaking her satin gown.

  On the third floor, a door knob clicked and the door was thrown open as Lady Margaret stepped out, with a look of worry and suspicion on her face as she gently started going down the staircase, preparing her mind for whatever it is that she may find in her daughter's room. A big rat? Maybe. A boy? It better not be.

  “ Hey, hey”, Dante said as he held her firm, stopping her from pacing around like a grasshopper. “ It's going to be alright”, his eyes betrayed his need to stay composed as they let the waterfalls rush. In another situation, he would've taken his time to examine her two cups of breasts which were very visible and tender under her tear-soaked satin dress, but his mind couldn't think in that direction. “ I might be gone, but I promise to come find you”, he said, listening to his passionate heart and ignoring his logical mind which was apparently screaming that he will be long dead before that will be possible.

  “ You promise you will?” Elizabeth asked, more tears soaking the satin dress.

  “ I promise. I love you”.

  “ I love you too”, she said and they both wrapped each other in their arms, crying.

  The door swung open and lady Margaret was met with a gush of wind to her face. The room was cold and dark, dimly illuminated, and she spotted Elizabeth lying on her bed, peacefully snoring in sleep: she must be snoring because of the cold.

  “ I've always warned her to keep the windows closed but she never listens”, she muttered to herself as she dropped the cane she had picked up along the way. She closed the windows and glanced over at her daughter before stepping out of the room, not knowing that just outside the window, Dante was slowly climbing down the house, about to return to his house; about to be married off to the prince of Wakanda.

 Dearest gentle reader, thank you for starting this journey with me. Please fasten your seatbelt because we are about to experience an exhilarating adventure.

“ Lord Weaselton, welcome to Wakanda”, Lusanga said, extending his left hand first for a handshake before immediately correcting himself and putting out his right; he had practiced for days on how to give the British prime minister a handshake and he was still failing at it.

  “ Thank you Lusanga. I'm glad to be here”, Lord Weaselton said, taking the extended hand in a quick handshake just out of courtesy.

  “ How was your journey? Hope it wasn't so stressful”, Lusanga asked, still beaming with smiles.

  “ It was very pleasant”.

  The many days at sea, the sea sickness, the blazing hot weather, and the dirty hand he just shook? Of course it was anything but pleasant. He was apparently sure to have contracted millions of germs from that single handshake, but he just had to hide his dissatisfaction.

  “ We thank the gods. Please, come inside”, Lusanga said, pointing into the p