Time Knelt For Love

> "And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?" — Esther 4:14 --- Harare always had a rhythm to it. At night, the city hummed like an untamed melody—cars honking in the distance, laughter breaking out in spurts, street vendors calling to late-night wanderers. The air smelled like roasted maize, exhaust fumes, and possibility. Tendai Voss stood high above it all, arms crossed, his dark eyes watching the city from his penthouse like a man surveying his empire. A diamond earring glinted against the soft glow of ambient lighting. Every inch of his 6’2" frame looked relaxed—but inside, he was anything but. From this height, Harare looked small. Manageable. But he knew better. He had clawed his way up these glass towers from Mbare’s dust and dirt, and the city had nearly devoured him. He survived. Then he dominated. Now? It all just felt… loud. Empty. Like a song that had once been beautiful, now on repeat. --- He turned from the window, letting the city fall behind him. The room was alive with afrobeats—Burna Boy's “Last Last” thumping through surround speakers. The scent of cologne and cash clung to the air. Tendai shrugged off his designer jacket, revealing a white shirt clinging to the lean muscle beneath. He let it hang open, the gold chain around his neck catching light as he moved. His penthouse was sleek—polished marble, black leather, city lights spilling in through floor-to-ceiling windows. But nothing about it felt like home. He downed a sip of Hennessy, grimacing slightly. Even the drink tasted off tonight. --- A buzz cut through the music. His phone lit up. > “Security Alert: Movement detected near back alley—CCTV Activated.” His brow furrowed. At this hour? Tendai tapped the footage open, expecting a drunk or maybe a lost delivery guy. But what he saw stopped him cold. A woman. Alone. Barefoot. Standing in the alley like she'd stepped out of a painting. She wore a golden robe that shimmered under the streetlamp, the fabric clinging to her like molten light. Her skin glowed with a bronze hue, smooth as river stone. A royal blue scarf wrapped elegantly around her head, framing features that didn’t belong in any timeline he knew. What the hell? --- Without hesitation, Tendai grabbed his coat, slid his phone into his pocket, and headed to the elevator. He didn’t know why he was going down there. Maybe to send her away. Maybe to figure out what kind of stunt this was. But a strange pull gnawed at his chest. Something ancient. Something sacred. --- The air outside bit colder than expected. The hum of the city softened behind him as he stepped into the alley, shoes clicking against pavement slick with dew. She stood exactly where he’d seen her—unmoving, like a statue left behind by time itself. Her eyes found his, and for a moment, it felt like everything else vanished. The city. The noise. Even the air between them. She didn’t look afraid. Just... calm. Like she'd been waiting. --- Tendai approached slowly, hands in his coat pockets. “You lost?” he asked, voice low and measured. She blinked slowly, tilting her head. “No.” The single word carried a weight that made his skin prickle. “This is private property,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the building. “Not exactly the safest place for—well, anyone dressed like you.” Her lips curled, just slightly. “I dress how I was taught. And how I was crowned.” Crowned? Tendai narrowed his eyes. “Alright... I’m gonna need you to explain that.” She stepped closer—not aggressively, just with intent. The air around her seemed to change, charged with something he couldn’t name. “I mean no harm,” she said gently. “I only seek shelter.” “From what?” he asked, instinctively scanning the shadows behind her. “Time,” she replied. Tendai let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “Okay. You’re either crazy, high, or in one hell of a costume drama.” She met his gaze with eerie steadiness. “I am Esther. Daughter of Abihail. Queen of Persia.” Silence fell like a curtain. Tendai blinked. “You’re kidding me.” She didn’t smile. Didn’t waver. --- A beat passed. Then two. He should’ve turned her away. Should’ve called someone. But he didn’t. Instead, he heard himself say, “Come inside.” --- Inside the penthouse, the contrast was blinding. Smooth jazz now played from the speakers, a mellow counter to the chaos in Tendai’s head. Esther stepped in carefully, reverently, like someone entering a shrine. Her fingers skimmed the edges of furniture, her eyes darting to glowing appliances, lights that turned on with a wave of his hand. Her awe wasn’t exaggerated. It was pure. Real. Tendai watched her, uneasy. “You really don’t know where you are?” She turned slowly to face him. “No. One moment I was praying. The next… I was here.” He rubbed the back of his neck, mind racing. This couldn’t be real. Could it? Esther took a seat on the edge of his velvet couch, her spine straight, her hands folded in her lap like royalty at court. “If this is a test,” she murmured, more to herself than to him, “then I must not fail.” Tendai exhaled, trying to ground himself. “You hungry? Thirsty?” She nodded once. “Water will do.” He poured her a glass, handed it to her carefully. When their fingers touched, a jolt of something warm surged through him. Not electricity—something deeper. Something old. She drank, eyes never leaving his. “You’re really not from here, are you?” he whispered. “No,” she said softly. “But I believe I was sent here. For something.” --- And for the first time in a long time, Tendai Voss, the man who had everything, felt the world tilt beneath his feet. --- [END OF CHAPTER ONE]