Chapter Two: The Price of Love

The night Damilola was taken from the market felt like the world itself had shifted beneath her. The hum of the city, once so vibrant and alive, now seemed a distant echo as she sat in the back of a royal car, her hands clenched in her lap, heart racing. It felt as though the ground had opened up beneath her, swallowing her whole.

Chike’s face was etched in her mind—his confusion, his pain, and most of all, the way his eyes had begged her to stay. But how could she? The truth of her identity had just tumbled from her lips, and in that moment, she realised the gravity of what she had done. She had just exposed herself—her real self—to a man whose world was the antithesis of hers. And now, the consequences would follow.

Her father, King Adeyemi, would never forgive this.

The car glided smoothly through the palace gates, the grand structure looming like a prison. As Damilola stepped out, the harsh lights of the courtyard revealed her parents waiting, their expressions stony and unforgiving. Her mother, Queen Abiola, stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her face a mask of controlled fury. Her father, on the other hand, had that deep-set look of disappointment—something Damilola had always feared, but now it struck her with full force.

“You’ve gone too far, Damilola,” King Adeyemi’s voice thundered across the courtyard, filling the space with the weight of his wrath. “You had one duty—to protect the honor of this family, of this kingdom. And yet, you—” His voice faltered, disbelief creeping in. “You’ve chosen a poor Igbo shoe-shiner over everything that we’ve worked for!”

Damilola held her ground, lifting her chin in defiance, though inside, her heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces. She loved him—Chike—but was it truly worth the destruction it would bring? She swallowed the fear building inside her.

“I love him, Father,” she said quietly. The words felt foreign, but true. “I love Chike, and I cannot pretend otherwise.”

Her mother’s eyes hardened, her voice icy. “You are a princess, Damilola. You are a daughter of the Oba. This… affair with a commoner will ruin everything we’ve built. You must put an end to it. This is not a fairy tale.”

The walls of the palace, which had always felt like a shelter, now seemed to close in around her. “I never asked for any of this. I don’t want to be a princess if it means living a life without love.”

Her father’s anger turned cold. He took a slow step toward her, his eyes narrowing. “You are to marry Prince Kelechi of Igbowu, as arranged. And if you continue with this rebellion, you will be disowned. You will have nothing. No title, no wealth, no future. Is that what you want? To throw away everything?”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but Damilola refused to let them fall. Her father had never spoken to her like this, and for the first time in her life, the weight of her choices settled heavily on her shoulders. She had always been the dutiful daughter, the model princess. But now, she had a choice. A choice that could shatter everything.

“I will not marry Prince Kelechi,” she said firmly, her voice shaking but resolute. “I will not give up on Chike.”

The silence that followed was deafening. King Adeyemi’s gaze was like fire, and Queen Abiola’s expression was one of unyielding disappointment. The queen spoke slowly, her voice thick with sorrow. “You are making a mistake, Damilola. This is not the life of a princess. You are not like the common people. You do not belong there, with him. Think of your legacy. Think of your people.”

But Damilola had already made up her mind. “I am thinking of my heart, Mother. And it belongs to Chike.”

Her father’s face twisted with contempt. “Then you are no daughter of mine,” he spat, his words cutting through her like a blade.

“I never asked to be born a princess,” Damilola whispered, feeling the weight of everything she was walking away from. “But I am who I am, and I will love whom I choose.”

The king turned sharply, his voice low and venomous. “You will regret this, Damilola. You will be disowned. You will have no place in this kingdom. You will be cast out. Do you understand the price of this defiance?”

Damilola took a deep breath, her voice trembling but defiant. “I understand.”

The next few hours passed in a haze. Her parents had already made their decision—she would be disowned. Her engagement to Prince Kelechi would be announced in a week, and if she did not comply, she would be exiled from the palace. There was no middle ground.

As she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but think of Chike. She had to see him again. There was no turning back now. No matter the cost.

Meanwhile, across the city, Chike had returned to his small, cramped apartment, his mind consumed with fear and confusion. The guards had come for him earlier, warning him to stay away from Damilola. They had threatened him with violence, telling him that his life would be made a living hell if he did not heed their warnings. But how could he leave her? How could he walk away from the only woman who had ever made him feel seen, understood, and loved?

That night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what was going to happen next. He was terrified—terrified of the guards, terrified of what the future held, but most of all, terrified that he might lose Damilola forever.

As the hours passed, there was a sudden knock at his door. His heart skipped a beat. Who could it be at this hour?

He opened the door cautiously, and standing before him was a tall, shadowed figure. It was a messenger, but the message was not what he expected.

“The princess,” the man said in a low voice. “She’s in trouble. She needs you.”

Before Chike could respond, the figure handed him a small, folded piece of paper. With trembling hands, Chike opened it. The words were simple, written in Damilola’s elegant script:

“Meet me at the old bridge. Midnight.”

Chike’s heart raced. He didn’t know what to think—what to do. Would she be there? Would her father’s guards be watching? What could possibly happen when they met?

But there was only one thing on his mind: He had to see her.

He grabbed his jacket, his hands shaking as he made his way through the streets of Iru-Oba. Every step felt heavier, as if the entire city was holding its breath. Would they get away? Would they be able to escape the wrath of the palace?

At midnight, the world would change forever.

The Princess And The Shoemaker (Chapter 3: The Price of Defiance)

(Written by AI With Big input from Femi Soewu)