CHAPTER 2
The sun hadn't risen yet, but the bungalow was already humming with the gentle sounds of the ocean breeze. A cool mist hung in the air, floating in from the beach like a whisper. Inside the bungalow—a sleek, five-room villa wrapped in white stone and sprawling glass—the girls were still curled under the comfort of feather-soft sheets, save for one.
Adeola.
Her body tossed beneath the linen sheets. Her forehead glistened with sweat as her breathing grew faster, more uneven. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and her hands clenched tightly over the duvet.
She was dreaming.
In the dream, she was seven again. The room was pitch dark except for the moonlight trickling through the broken blinds. The phone slipped from her hand, the static voice on the other end still calling her name—asking questions she couldn't answer. The door creaked open. Her aunt's silhouette towered in the doorway, eyes sharp like blades, voice dripping with venom.
"You think you're special? With that cursed red hair? You're nothing. You are not my blood."
The words, the tone, the rage—it all crushed her chest like boulders. Then came the scream, the shove, the fall.
Air, nothing but air beneath her.
And then— a snap.
Adeola shot up in bed, gasping. Her chest heaved as if she had been pulled from underwater. The room was warm and scented with citrus from a burning candle, the pale pink curtains fluttered at the open balcony door. Beside her, Yayomi stirred.
"Dee?" Yayomi murmured sleepily, her silk bonnet twisted on her head like it'd fought a battle of its own. "You good?"
Adeola nodded slowly, pushing her damp curls away from her face. "Yeah. Just… just a nightmare."
"Same one?"
"Yeah."
Yayomi pulled herself up and leaned back on her elbows, eyes scanning Adeola's face. "You need water? Coffee? Holy water?"
Adeola let out a small laugh. "None of the above. I just need to breathe."
They sat in silence, the crashing waves outside offering a rhythm to the stillness. Adeola's mind drifted to the real nightmare. Aunt Bose.
She had done everything to avoid that woman. Even moving continents wasn't far enough. Studying medicine abroad had seemed like the perfect escape—a double win: saving lives and saving herself. But Aunt Bose was nothing if not persistent.
On Adeola's eighteenth birthday, she had appeared like a vulture at the Adebanjo Williams estate, fully clad in aso-oke and a bitterness so thick it stained the furniture. She announced—as though reading an obituary—that Adeola had nine years to get married and produce a male heir. Royal blood, Yoruba lineage, no negotiation.
"Nine years," Aunt Bose had said, tapping her lacquered nails on the mahogany table. "Or the throne leaves our family. You are the last."
It had hung over her like a curse ever since. Royalty was a blessing until it became a burden. Especially when your uterus was part of the national agenda.
Still lost in thought, Adeola wrapped a robe around her silk pajamas and stepped outside. The wooden deck creaked beneath her feet as she wandered toward the beach. Dawn was slowly brushing its fingers over the sky, painting soft pastels across the horizon. She settled into one of the lounge chairs, toes curling in the cold sand.
She didn't hear the footsteps until Karayah dropped down beside her.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Karayah asked, dressed in satin shorts and a tank top that looked fresh off the runway. Even at sunrise, the girl looked like a Vogue spread. Her straight hair was piled into a flawless bun, and her gold anklet glinted in the first rays of light.
"Nightmare," Adeola said simply.
Karayah nodded knowingly. "The fall?"
"Yeah. And the… rest."
Karayah let out a low whistle. "Aunt Bose again?"
Adeola groaned. "Yup. Reminding me I have until twenty-seven to marry Prince Yoruba and birth a bouncing baby boy before the throne plays musical chairs."
Karayah laughed, tossing her head back. "God forbid. I say we make Aunt Bose disappear. Boom. One problem solved."
Adeola burst into laughter. The kind that came from the belly, the kind that loosened the knots inside.
"Just kidding," Karayah added with a wink. "Unless you're in. Then we can call Oreofe. She probably has a shrink-ray somewhere."
Adeola shook her head, smiling. "You're insane."
"Certified. But you love me."
"Unfortunately."
They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun stretch across the ocean. The wind carried the scent of salt and hibiscus, the sea glittering like it was sprinkled with gold.
"You know you don't have to do what she says," Karayah said quietly. "The crown doesn't make you. You make it. And whatever you choose—we're behind you. Royal blood or not."
Adeola looked at her cousin's profile, the sharp cheekbones, the quiet strength in her voice.
"Thanks, Kay. I needed that."
"Always, Dee. Always."
They stood together and began walking back to the bungalow, arms brushing as they moved in sync.
The rest of the girls would be waking soon. Ziora would start yelling about breakfast, Oreofe would be mixing chemicals in the kitchen, and Yayomi would definitely be playing dress-up with someone's suitcase.
But in that moment, on that beach, beneath that rising sun, Adeola felt a little lighter.
Maybe this getaway wasn't just a vacation.
Maybe it was a beginning.