Akosua.
I did not sleep that night.
No matter how hard I tried, rest refused to come. My body lay still, but my spirit paced like a restless child, trapped in shadows that would not release me. Every time I closed my eyes, the sound returned—the echo of the palace bells, not ringing, but calling. Calling my name, calling the blood.
I pressed my palm against my side where the wound had been treated earlier. The skin had stopped bleeding, yet it felt alive… almost warm, almost breathing. A dull ache pulsed beneath it, steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat not entirely my own. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
Outside my chamber, the palace was unnervingly quiet. No laughter. No footsteps rushing past. Even the guards stood straighter than usual, eyes darting toward me, then away, as though they feared my presence could awaken something they did not understand.
They knew.
I pushed myself upright and walked toward the mirror. My reflection stared back, familiar and yet entirely foreign, as if I were gazing at someone who shared my face but carried a weight I did not yet recognize.
"Who… am I?" I whispered.
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
The answer did not come in words.
It came in pain.
My knees buckled, and I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself. A sharp heat surged from the wound, radiating outward. My breath caught. My vision blurred.
And then I saw it.
Sand. Not the polished palace floor—red earth, wet, darkened by blood. My blood.
I gasped, staggering back. The images crashed over me, faster and more vivid than my mind could process:
A woman crying. A child carried away into the night. Hands slick with blood, royal rings glinting under the moonlight.
"Stop," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please… stop."
The visions faded as suddenly as they had come, leaving me trembling, soaked in a cold sweat. My chest heaved, and I realized I had been holding my breath.
Then the door opened.
I nearly screamed.
The Supreme King stood there. He did not knock. He did not announce himself. He simply appeared, as if summoned by the same force that had shaken my soul.
"You feel it," he said quietly.
It was not a question.
I swallowed hard. "Feel… what, Your Majesty?"
He studied me for a long moment, eyes heavy but not unkind.
"The blood," he said.
My fingers curled into my palms. "I was wounded. That is all."
"No," he replied. "That is not all."
Silence stretched between us like the stillness of the night before a storm.
"You are protected," he continued. "Have always been. But protection does not stop destiny. It only delays it."
My chest tightened. "People are whispering," I said softly. "When I walk past, they fall silent. Elders look at me like they are counting something."
He nodded once. "They are."
"Counting what?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a reverent, dangerous tone. "Time."
Fear crept into my bones. "Why?"
The Supreme King's eyes darkened. "Because royal blood touched the ground," he said. "And the ground answered."
I shook my head. "I don't understand."
"You will," he said. "Sooner than I hoped."
He turned to leave, then paused at the doorway.
"Until then," he added, "you will not leave this wing of the palace. Not for prayer. Not for curiosity. Not for anyone."
I took a step forward. "What about Mamaa Abena?"
Pain flickered across his face — brief, hidden, but enough to make my heart clench.
"That matter is being handled," he said. "And Akosua…"
He looked back at me.
"Whatever you hear in the coming days — remember this: you were never a mistake."
The door closed behind him.
I stood there long after he left, my heart pounding. Never a mistake. The words echoed strangely.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, trembling. My mind raced, replaying the visions, the pain, the blood, the King's eyes. There was a call… a summons I could not name. Something in me had been awakened, though I did not know by what.
Hours later, when the palace finally fell silent, sleep came at last—but it was not gentle. I dreamed of two cradles. One empty. One hidden. Shadows danced in the corners of my mind, and I heard a voice whisper through the darkness:
The blood has spoken.
The time has come.
I woke with a scream caught in my throat, the sheets damp with sweat.
Outside, thunder rolled across a sky that was otherwise clear, the wind rattling the palace windows as if the land itself were trembling.
And deep within me, something ancient stirred.
Something that had been buried.
Something that had waited.
And now, it was awake.