Akosua.
I did not let Mamaa Abena out of my sight that night.
Even when the palace finally quieted and the lamps were dimmed, I sat beside her bed, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. She slept like someone who had been chased through darkness without rest—uneasy, shallow, her body twitching at the smallest sound.
She was back.
Alive.
But she was not the same.
The woman who raised me, who used to hum softly while braiding my hair, now slept like the shadows were waiting to drag her away again.
I reached for her hand.
It was thinner.
Colder.
"Mamaa," I whispered.
Her eyes opened immediately—sharp with fear at first—before softening when she saw me.
"Akosua," she breathed, gripping my fingers tightly. "You're here."
"I'm not leaving," I said gently. "Not again."
Her lips trembled. "This palace…" she whispered. "It has teeth."
Before I could ask what she meant, footsteps echoed outside.
Heavy.
Measured.
Royal.
The door opened without warning.
The Supreme King stepped inside.
The air shifted instantly.
Though the guards remained outside, his presence filled the room like a restrained storm. His gaze went straight to Mamaa Abena, sharp and searching.
She stiffened.
"Maamaa Abena," he said calmly, "I am glad to see you alive."
She struggled to sit up. I moved quickly to support her.
"Your Majesty," she said, bowing her head as much as her weak body allowed.
"I will not keep you long," the King said. "But there are questions only you can answer."
My heart began to pound.
He studied her carefully. "Can you recognize the people who kidnapped you?"
Silence fell.
Thick.
Dangerous.
Mamaa Abena's fingers clenched the bedsheet. Her throat moved as she swallowed hard.
"Your Majesty…" she began, then stopped.
The King waited.
"I… I value my life very much," she said slowly, her voice shaking.
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not interrupt.
"I have not finished my assignment on this earth," she continued. "I am not ready to die."
A long pause followed.
The King's tone softened. "No one here seeks your death. Speak freely."
She shook her head faintly.
"My mouth is heavy, Your Majesty," she said. "Heavy with what I saw. Heavy with what I heard."
My chest tightened.
"You cannot protect the palace with silence," the King said quietly.
"And I cannot protect myself with truth," she replied.
The words hung between them like a sharpened blade.
The Supreme King studied her for a long moment. Then he straightened.
"Very well," he said. "Rest. We will speak again."
He turned to leave, then stopped.
"Akosua," he said without looking at me, "stay with her."
Then he was gone.
The door closed.
Only then did Mamaa Abena begin to tremble violently.
I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her fragile body.
"You're safe," I whispered, though I wasn't sure it was true. "You're safe now."
She let out a soft, broken laugh. "There is no safety where crowns sit on lies."
I pulled back to look at her. "Mamaa… what did you mean?"
She glanced toward the door, then the walls, then leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"They were not strangers," she said.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Who?" I asked.
She closed her eyes briefly, as if gathering courage.
"The people who ordered it," she whispered. "They walk freely in this palace."
My breath caught. "You mean—"
She opened her eyes and looked straight at me.
"The Queen," she said softly.
"And her daughter… Princess Adjoa."
The room tilted.
I felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath my feet.
"No…" I whispered. "That can't be true."
"They wanted silence," Mamaa Abena continued. "They wanted fear. They wanted me gone."
My thoughts scattered. "Why?"
She reached up and cupped my face with trembling hands.
"Because I know where you came from," she said quietly.
The scar at my side burned suddenly, sharp and alive.
"You were not meant to grow up ignorant," she whispered. "But you were meant to live."
Tears filled my eyes. "Then why not tell me everything now?"
Her hands dropped slowly.
"Because truth spoken too early kills faster than lies," she said.
I cried then.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just silent tears slipping down my face as my world cracked open.
"Mamaa… please."
She pulled me into her arms, holding me the way she did when I was a child.
"Listen to me carefully, Akosua," she said. "You must keep this secret. For now."
My chest felt like it would burst. "How can I?"
"Because if they know you know," she whispered, "they will not miss next time."
I stiffened.
"Promise me," she said urgently. "Promise me you will act like you know nothing."
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
"I promise."
She exhaled shakily, as though she had been holding her breath for years.
Footsteps echoed again outside.
Voices.
Whispers.
The palace was awake.
I wiped my tears quickly and helped her lie back down.
As I turned away, I caught my reflection in the bronze mirror.
I did not recognize the girl staring back.
She looked older.
Harder.
Awakened.
And deep in my blood, something stirred—not fear this time.
Resolve.
Because now I knew.
The woman who raised me carried a truth heavy enough to kill.
And the palace that called me Princess overnight?
It was not honoring me.
It was watching me.
And I understood one thing clearly—
Mamaa Abena's return was not the end of danger.
It was the beginning of war.