Between WATER AND BLOOD

CHAPTER 10:BETWEEN WATER AND BLOOD

ANDILE ZULU – POV

The palace pool looks the same.

Blue. Still. Perfectly maintained.

But nothing about us is calm.

We're all outside, pretending this is just another afternoon—pretending the crown prince didn't walk away from his home, pretending the kingdom isn't holding its breath.

Castro sits on the edge of the pool, sleeves rolled up, skipping small stones across the water. Melikhaya is stretched out on a lounger, sunglasses on but clearly not sleeping. Nhlanhla leans against a pillar, arms folded, quiet as always.

And then there's Sbu.

My youngest brother hasn't sat down once.

He paces like a storm trapped in a body.

"You know what I don't understand?" Sbu says suddenly, stopping mid-step. "How everyone is acting like this just… happened."

No one answers.

I already know he's talking to me.

Castro clears his throat. "Man, we're all tired. Let's not—"

"No," Sbu cuts in sharply. "Let's talk about it."

His eyes lock onto mine.

"Khaya didn't just wake up and decide to leave," he says. "He was pushed."

I straighten in my chair. "Careful."

"With what?" he snaps. "The truth?"

Silence drops heavy between us.

"You were supposed to protect him," Sbu continues, voice rising. "Instead, you reminded him every day that loving the wrong woman would destroy the crown."

"That's not what I did," I say firmly.

"That's exactly what you did," he fires back. "Every time Olerato came up, you shut it down. Duty this. Tradition that. Marriage talks before he even understood his own heart."

Melikhaya sighs quietly. "Sbu…"

"No," Sbu insists. "You all saw it. He was in love, and instead of guiding him, we boxed him in."

I clench my jaw.

"I was thinking about the kingdom," I say. "Someone had to."

"And who was thinking about him?" Sbu asks. "Because it clearly wasn't you."

That one lands.

Hard.

Nhlanhla finally speaks. "Khaya isn't weak. He made his choices."

"Yes," Sbu says, nodding. "And now he's paying for everyone else's expectations."

I look away toward the palace doors—the same doors Khaya walked out of without turning back.

"He's staying in KwaMashu," Castro mutters. "You know how bad that looks?"

"I don't care how it looks," Sbu says. "I care that my brother is broken."

My chest tightens.

"I never wanted to stop him from loving her," I admit quietly. "I just didn't want him to lose everything."

Sbu shakes his head slowly. "Sometimes love is the only thing worth losing everything for."

No one argues.

Because deep down, we all know it.

The water ripples as the wind picks up, and for the first time, I feel it clearly—

This isn't over.

Not for Khaya.
Not for Olerato.
And not for the crown.

---

LINDIWE NGWENYA – POV

I'm done waiting.

Done hoping.

Done pretending humiliation didn't carve something ugly inside me.

If Khayelihle Zulu doesn't want me willingly, then I will make sure he has no other choice.

The car slows as we reach Baba Nyambose's homestead. The air changes instantly—thick, ancient, watching. Smoke curls into the sky, carrying the smell of burnt herbs and soil.

My mother steps out first.

"Lindiwe," she says carefully, "what you're asking for… it comes with consequences."

I adjust my shawl, my voice cold. "So did marrying a man who loves another woman."

We're led inside.

Baba Nyambose sits waiting, as if he already knew we were coming. His eyes settle on me, sharp and knowing.

"You bring anger," he says calmly. "And wounded pride."

"He rejected me," I say flatly. "Publicly."

"He rejected what he was forced into," Baba Nyambose replies.

My patience snaps. "I didn't come here for lessons."

My mother speaks softly. "We need your help."

He studies us, then nods. "Speak."

"I want muthi," I say without hesitation. "For Khayelihle."

The room goes quiet.

"An accident," I continue. "Not death. Pain. Fear. Something that makes him stop running."

Baba Nyambose's eyes narrow.

"And the other woman?" he asks.

I don't hesitate.

"Olerato Moagi."

The name tastes bitter.

"I want her punished. I want her sight taken away. Slowly."

My mother stiffens but doesn't stop me.

Baba Nyambose exhales deeply. "The doctor's ancestors are powerful."

My heart stutters—but I hold my ground.

"So?"

"They protect her," he says. "They will fight back."

"I don't care," I reply. "She took what was mine."

He shakes his head. "People are not possessions."

"They are when they humiliate you," I snap.

The fire crackles.

Baba Nyambose reaches for two dark bundles.

"For Khayelihle," he says, lifting the first. "The road will turn against him. Metal. Impact. Survival—but broken."

My pulse quickens.

"And for the doctor," he lifts the second. "Her world will dim. But hear me—if her ancestors push harder, the suffering may return to the sender."

I step forward. "I accept that risk."

He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly.

"I will try," he says. "But when spirits clash, bloodlines shake."

I take the bundles into my hands.

They feel warm.

Alive.

As we leave, the night wraps around me, and for the first time since the wedding—

I smile.

Khayelihle will fall.
Olerato will suffer.

And when everything is dark and broken—

He will finally have nowhere else to go but back to me.