Among the sea of mourners, one face stood out - the youngest son of Prince Ewuare, Ozare. Tall, dark, and handsome, he had caught Vode's attention earlier, staring at him with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. Now, Ozare had set his sights on Idara, trying to charm her with his looks and words.
Throughout the burial ceremony, Ozare persisted, his smooth words and charming smile failing to win Idara over. She excused herself, dodging his advances, but Ozare remained undeterred. Even when she was helping in food distribution, he tried to persuade her, offering she cook for him at his lodge after the burial. But Idara's refusals only seemed to fuel his determination.
Just as Ozare held her hand, Vode appeared, his eyes narrowing at the sight. "Hey, let her go," he said, his voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement.
Idara's face flushed as Vode took her hand, leading her away from Ozare's grasp. As they walked towards the house, Vode teased her, mimicking her responses to Ozare's advances. Idara's embarrassment turned to laughter, her caramel skin tone glowing with joy. She playfully pushed Vode, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.
As they walked Vode almost hit his head on the church signboard, and Idara couldn't help but giggle. "You're so damn a clumsy ," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vode grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey, someone's got to save you from that charming prince."
Idara's heart swelled with appreciation. She was glad she had come to support Vode, and in that moment, she knew her feelings for him went beyond friendship. As they walked, her gaze lingered on Vode's face, her joy and admiration plain to see.