The Reluctant Princess. Kholo Matsha

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СКАЧАТЬ they say that only fools fall in love?”

      “Then I think I’ll be a clever fool,” Lesedi added stubbornly.

      “I already miss you, girlfriend.” Phetana cracked another laugh, and Lesedi joined in. “And please call your brother. He’s worried about you.”

      “How do you . . . ? Never mind, I’ll call him tomorrow. Good night.”

      “Night.”

      Lesedi ended the call, kicked off her shoes and stretched out to her full length on the bed. Her mind wandered to where Mogale might be, what he might be doing. His face lingered in her mind, his eyes filled with a desire she feared she would all too easily succumb to, as sleep overtook her.

      * * *

      In the morning Lesedi woke to a cool breeze caressing her face. She experienced a moment of disorientation before she remembered where she was. As soon as she did, Mogale immediately came to mind, but she opted to ignore him and the feelings that charged her body. Whimsically, her eyes drifted around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. The walls of the room were painted a cream colour that created an airy feel, prompting the occupant to relax. The furniture echoed the décor – everything looked expensive, but also comfortable and inviting. Beautiful, Lesedi thought, just like the man who owned it.

      Did he own her too? the thought popped into her mind, pricking her sense of independence. For a black man marriage meant ownership; the mere fact that he’d paid lobola meant that he had bought her. So did he own her? She didn’t want to know the answer. Duty bound her to him.

      Lesedi continued with her perusal of her surroundings, opting to occupy her mind with things other than Mogale. She turned to the window. The morning sun drifted through the curtains, and as though beckoned by something, Lesedi got up from the bed and walked to the glass doors. Opening them, she stepped out onto a wide balcony, drinking in the breathtaking view. Vast forested gardens stretched all around the house, and beyond these started fields of maize plants set in neat rows that stretched as far as the eye could see. This was perfect for her programme, she thought, catching sight of the outbuildings that lay to the left of the gardens. For a while she pictured what it would be like if Mogale agreed to her plan. It would be rewarding seeing children who’d never been anywhere but their village experience a new way of life: being mentored, learning the art of farming on a professional level, seeing opportunities their rural communities couldn’t foster or maintain, simply dreaming and striving to better themselves because they could finally see what was possible. Mogale was a good role model. He had made himself into something. And she was married to him. Lesedi felt suffused with pride, but she squashed it before images of a perfect life with Mogale turned into a yearning that she knew would never be fulfilled.

      Turning her mind to other things, Lesedi thought of how she could approach Mogale. Easter holidays were due to begin soon and she could bring three or four of the impoverished kids to the estate then. Or maybe that was too soon? Maybe the June school holidays were better. After all, it might take her a while to convince Mogale. She wouldn’t give up, though; she would pester him until he agreed.

      But she didn’t stick to her resolve for very long. It was easy to picture herself fighting with Mogale and winning when he wasn’t there, but when he was around, it was a different matter entirely.

      From somewhere Lesedi heard the sound of a door whooshing open. It didn’t take her long to figure out who it was. He occupied her mind, even when he wasn’t wanted. Plus, her body informed her. It was as if he was a musician and she the instrument. It started with her skin breaking into anticipatory goose flesh. Her heart followed, accelerating its rhythm, and then the rest of her readied itself – it yearned to be close to him, press itself to the length of him, feel the heady sensations that only his nearness could provide. In response her arms tightened around herself, shielding her from succumbing to the strange need he evoked in her.

      “Morning. I didn’t think you were awake yet,” he said in a friendly tone. He took in her body language – it was as though she resented his presence, and that brought forth a feeling he couldn’t understand within him.

      “Morning.” She gave him a smile and strove to relax. This was her opportunity – he seemed to be in an open mood.

      “I have a favour to ask . . .” she began.

      “No,” he said, without looking at her.

      “You don’t even know what it is.”

      “There is nothing I own that I wouldn’t give to you, Lesedi, but the question is, what would you give me in return?” He turned then and stared at her.

      Lesedi felt transfixed by his gaze. She’d never considered that he might want something from her and his words shocked her. But what could she possibly give him?

      Mogale turned away from her as though he’d come to a conclusion. “Since you can’t give me anything, the answer is no,” he said, striding from the balcony. “Lusanda must have breakfast ready by now. I’ll see you downstairs.”

      Lesedi felt herself regain control of her body, but even as she did so she became aware of another feeling, something else that had been born between herself and Mogale, and resolving it was somehow bound up with the success of her programme. She’d known him almost all her life – they’d grown up in the same village, after all – but now he was a different man altogether. What could she give him? Images of Mogale and she intertwined in each other’s arms ran rampant in her mind and her breath hitched in her throat. Striving to think of something else, she focused on her situation: she had been forced into this marriage because of duty to her people. She was the key to stabilising the uneasy peace between the Batloung and the Tshukudu. No matter her feelings or weaknesses where Mogale Tloung was concerned, this was business for the people involved, and it should be business for her too. No feelings, no attachments, just business all the way. Could she do that? Lesedi asked herself, her spine straightening in determination.

      Yes, she could.

      Turning back into her room, Lesedi selected the most colourful and flattering dress she could find, then she went to the bathroom to take a quick shower and make herself ready for her first breakfast with Mogale. She would give him exactly what he wanted, she decided. She just had to find out what it was.

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