Written in the Stars (A Romance Novel)

Chapter two: Homecoming Part 1

The rhythmic thump-thump of an axe against wood, the sour smelling fumes of fermented sorghum and the excited chatter of women chopping vegetables inside the royal household could only mean one thing: the Crown Prince was returning home. Ndalo stood in her in-laws kitchen, humming softly as she sawed through half a head of cabbage. She had been chopping since ten o’clock the previous night and now at nine in the morning, her wrists were practically screaming at her to stop. She hacked on though, her excitement fuelling her on to continue despite her body’s exhaustion. She was determined to ensure that everything was perfect, it had to be. She checked on the special stew she had made especially for this occasion. She hoped it was received well and said a special prayer for it as she stirred the contents, sniffing appreciatively at the spicy, savoury aroma that wafted up from the pot. She had spent years perfecting it, enduring critique after critique from her mother-in-law, MaSithole, until it was deemed perfect. Now he could finally eat it.

Menzi. He was coming home today for the first time in fifteen years. The last time he was here had been for Bab’Mdlalose’s funeral and that had been for two days, five years ago. They hadn’t spent anytime with one another because she had been at a school camp preparing for her final Matric exams, but he had been kind enough to bring her a necklace and a photo of himself which was the only way they could see each other as she was not allowed to have a phone. She still wore the necklace to this day and had kept the photo along with all the others in a box she hid in the back of her closet. But today she would finally see the man she had been waiting for, in the flesh. Her entire life had been dictated by her engagement to the Crown Prince. She was sent to an all girls school. She was not allowed to party or drink or go to dances and clubs or do any of the things her peers were doing. She sometimes wondered if Menzi had also been forced to bypass these rites or if it was a “strictly female” thing. Still she guessed she should be grateful. It was a bit sad that at twenty-four she still hadn’t been kissed, but at least she had never been taken advantage of for her body or gotten her heart broken by some loser like her best friend Ayanda. As she started on the other cabbage head half, she thought about her future husband. How he sounded, how he smelled, his smile, his body, how he would hold her, what their first kiss would be like and immediately started blushing. She looked around the crowded kitchen to see if anyone noticed her flush but everyone was too busy with the last minute arrangements and we’re not even looking at her.

She started guiltily when MaSithole bustled into the kitchen, a huge smile plastered across her face.

“My daughter, how are you feeling?”

“I am well, ma.” Ndalo answered, her head bowed in respect.

“And medical school, how are you coping?”

“I got a 98 in the first test,” Ndalo answered, her glee reflected in her brandy coloured eyes.

“Ninety-eight!? That simply isn’t good enough!” MaSithole bristled. “It is 100% or nothing. You are the Queen! You need to be perfect!”

Ndalo’s shoulders sagged in defeat, her bubble of happiness had been burst. She could never impress her mother-in-law, no matter how hard she tried. MaSithole had always been tough on her, badgering the importance of perfection and Ndalo being upstanding in everything she did. Especially if she wanted to be Queen, which believe it or not, Ndalo did not want. Being a part of the royal family made her feel like a bug beneath the microscope. Every little thing she did was scrutinised and promptly criticised. There was no room for error or to be yourself because that would mean that you were human and could make mistakes. Ndalo just wanted a quiet life with a doting husband and maybe two or three children. Even the whole medical school idea had been her mother-in-law’s idea, another status symbol but she was glad that she could at least help people. She looked down at the cabbage, blinking rapidly to stop the tears that filled her eyes from falling. She didn’t think she could handle another lecture from MaSithole on how tears were for the weak and how real women never cried.

“Leave the cooking and go and get ready. Menzi called to say that he was less that thirty minutes away.”

At those words, Ndalo dashed out of the kitchen and headed to her and Menzi’s room. She jumped into the shower and hurriedly washed the grime she had collected as she had cleaned and cooked for the past two days from her body. The last time Menzi had seen her in person, her skin had been a blonde caramel but years of toiling in the African fields playing sports and cultivating crops had turned it into more of a burnt caramel colour. People complimented her eyes though, saying they were the prettiest shade of brown they had ever seen. She did not care what people said , the only opinion that mattered was her fiancé’s.

The loud hooting of a car and what sounded like a million ululations drove her to the window. A white Audi A4 was driving up the driveway and the men and women of the village were dancing around it, rejoicing at the arrival of their future leader. Ndalo quickly donned her brand-new turquoise body con dress and let her hair out of its bun before loosely tying on doek to cover her head. She coated her lips with some lipgloss, dashed out of her room and into the main sitting room. She bowed her head in respect as she greeted the elders there before rushing out the front door and into the front yard. All the young men and women in the village surrounded the car while the older women ran around the car sweeping the dust away from it and waving their doeks in the air. Everyone’s joy and excitement was palpable, but Ndalo could not bring herself to be in the same joyous mood. The catepillars that we’re worming around her stomach for the past month had metamorphosed into butterflies and were now fluttering wildly about her belly.

She turned and walked towards the kitchen. She could not decide if she wanted to stuff her face with sweets or take a shot of the traditional beer that filled the barrels all around the yard. She kept her head down as she stalked into the kitchen, hoping that no one would notice her hasty retreat and call her back. Ndalo breathed a sigh of relief when she walked inside the kitchen and saw her mother standing behind the island, straining the sorghum from the fermented beer to make it smoother.

“Ma, he’s here,” whispered Ndalo, hating how shaky her voice was. MaKhumalo looked up at her, a small smile lighting up her face and flushing her cheeks with joy.

“You look so beautiful, my baby. Has he seen you yet?”

Ndalo shook her head.

“I’m afraid, ma. What if he doesn’t want me? What will I do then?” Ndalo asked, her voice soft as she battled to keep her tears from falling.

MaKhumalo wiped her hands off on her apron and pulled her daughter into her arms. Ndalo snuggled into her mother’s chest and squeezed hard, the sweet scent that had always clung to her mother comforting her.

“Don’t you worry about any of that. It doesn’t matter. You two were promised from birth, so it’s his duty to marry you.”

Ndalo pushed away from her mother and walked over to the stove, stirring a pot of fried cabbage. Her mother had unknowingly confirmed her worst fear. Menzi did not want to marry her but he would because he was duty-bound to do it. She did not want to be a duty, a chore. Something you did just so that you could be done with it and forget about it. She wanted to be the One. The only One the man she loved wanted.

At that moment, MaSithole walked into the kitchen with a tray in her hands. She wore an eerily merry smile and Ndalo couldn’t help but feel a bit fearful as the smile was aimed right at her. She handed Ndalo the tray, then began to fill a plate with some sweets and pastries Ndalo had made and placed it and a glass of whiskey on the tray.

“Take this to your husband. He is your room. Johannesburg is a long distance away and I’m sure he is tired and hungry.”

Ndalo’s eyes nearly bulged out of her sockets as she watched the two women exchange high-fives and look at her with mischievous glee written all over their faces. She could not believe this. She was about to see her fiancé in person for the first time in over twenty years and she was going to be alone with him. She was nearly jumping out of her skin in equal parts joy and fear, but she plastered on a neutral face before squaring her shoulders and making her way to what could be the beginning of her destiny.