Chapter 16: The Queen's Discovery

 

The afternoon sun slanted through the reed curtains, painting golden stripes across the sleeping form of Princess Zakithi. Zakhona moved quietly through the royal chambers, smoothing the furs on the massive bed, adjusting the arrangement of ceremonial spears against the wall. Her fingers stilled when she noticed her husband's travel bag lying half-open near his wardrobe, its leather flaps gaping like an unguarded secret. A faint glow emanated from within the bag. Zwelibanzi's smartphone, left carelessly unlocked, its screen still illuminated with recent activity. Zakhona's breath caught in her throat as she glanced toward the doorway. The guards were at their posts outside, their low murmurs just audible through the thick wooden door. She reached for the device with trembling fingers. The screen brightened at her touch, revealing a cascade of notifications in elegant Arabic script. A name appeared repeatedly - Khalid - accompanied by message previews that made her stomach tighten. "The sheets still smell like you.” "When will you walk through my door again?” "I traced your scars with my tongue last night in my dreams.” Her thumb moved of its own accord, opening the message thread fully. The most recent photo made her blood run cold - her husband's bare shoulders glistening with sweat, his head thrown back in pleasure against a pillow she didn't recognize, another man's hand splayed possessively across his chest. Zakhona nearly dropped the phone when Zakithi stirred in her sleep, the child's soft sigh cutting through the thick silence. With frantic movements, she closed the messaging app and locked the device, returning it to the exact position she'd found it. Her pulse roared in her ears as she stepped back, her bare feet silent on the polished clay floor. At the window, she gripped the carved wooden frame until her fingertips ached. The realization settled over her like a shroud - her husband's distant demeanor, his frequent absences, the way he touched her only during ceremonial occasions. None of it had been about her at all. Zakithi murmured in her sleep, one small hand clutching the wooden horse her father had brought from his last journey. Zakhona turned from the window, her face carefully composed. The truth burned in her chest, but she would let it consume her in silence. For now.