Just a Little Poison; Princess Wuraola (Part 2, Episode 3)



“Wura you woke up quite late. The queen has been asking after you,” Bimpe said as she closed the door and leaned against it.

Wura sat up on the bed and looked around the familiar surrounding of her 2nd life. She was getting used to time travelling especially since she got to know about her link with the present world.

“Why was she looking for me?”

“I really can’t say but she looked angry,” Bimpe rolled her eyes, “she is always angry anyways.”

Wura nodded in agreement. “What about Obajuwon?” Referring to him as the king sounded so foreign to her. She could never get used to it. “I mean the king. Did he…?”

“No, he didn’t ask after you.” came the sharp reply.

Wura sighed. This was getting tougher than she had imagined. She needed to take down Obajuwon and she needed to do it fast. She could sense that something wasn’t right.

“My father, the king is sick back home,” she raised her eyebrow as if to ask Bimpe if she understood. Bimpe knew about her time travel adventure.

“Oh my goodness. What happened?”

“I don’t know, Bimpe. But what I do know is that I met that stupid Obajuwon there by the time I arrived.” She stood up now, pacing the length of the small room.

“Where were you when he fell ill in the first place?”

That was one question she was guilty of answering. She had been with Goke in a hotel room. They had met by coincidence at the hotel. According to him, he came to Oyo for a private meeting with some security personnel. Although nothing happened between them, they only talked. It was only the next morning that he had taken her by surprise and kissed her at the car park. But she wouldn’t count that as anything.

“Somewhere,” She said dismissively. “Look, Bimpe, I need a plan to take down the queen first and then the king.”

“Wura, I honestly suggest that you go back to the present and sort things out. Just forget about coming here again.”

Wura sighed, “No. I can’t. If I go back and never come back here, how would I know the next step to take?”

“Wura, trust me. You have to. I think the other maids are starting to suspect.”

Wura sighed and rubbed her head. Her head was throbbing by the minute.

“Okay I accept to go back but I need to find out about one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need to ask supervisor about Oloye Bisoye.”

“Oloye Bisoye. What about him?”

“He was murdered.”

Bimpe gasped and shook her head in shock. There was so much happening in Wura’s life at the same time that it was getting hard to take all of it in.


“Oloye Bisoye, killed?” supervisor laughed

Wura and Bimpe were taken by surprise at her response. They were seated in the pantry where un-used kitchen equipment was kept. The other maids went about their works diligently.

“What do you mean?”

“He is not dead, Wura. In fact, he is currently in Abuja with Obajuwon’s mother. He helped Obajuwon take down his father.”

“Why would Obajuwon want to take down his father?” Bimpe asked

“Well, that’s a question for either Obajuwon or his father.”

“Where is he?” Wura asked. Curiosity was beginning to eat her up.

“Who? Obajuwon’s father?”

“Yes.” she nodded.

“In Kirikiri prison, Lagos. He was roped with the murder of your father”

“Did he actually kill my father?”

“No. Oloye Bisoye did,” the supervisor replied, dryly.

“What! Yo…you..you can’t be serious,” Wura spluttered

“Such is life Wura,” she shrugged. “There’s nothing new under the sun.”

Wura gasped afresh then burst into a short laugh. “This is insane,” she laughed again. “Everyone wants to kill each other, why? This madness has to stop!” she yelled not minding the tears that dropped from her eyes now.

Indeed, She was sick of it all. Sick of everyone that betrayed her and her father.

“Now. If there’s any madness that needs to be stopped, it is yours.” A familiar voice said behind her.

Supervisor and Bimpe scampered back in fear. Wura turned to the direction of the voice and feigned a smile. she wasn’t expecting to see the face currently staring daggers at her until at least she was done with her plan. Before her stood queen Olaitan, dressed in a lacy flowered gown with a silver crown on her head,  flanked by three hefty guards that were fit to be club bouncers.

“To what do we owe this surprise visit, your majesty?” she saluted mockingly. She needed to play her cards right so her plan could go well.

Queen Olaitan laughed, disgusting Wura even further. “Wow, I never thought we had coup plotters who are planning to take the throne.”

It was Wura’s turn to laugh.

“No, your majesty. We aren’t coup plotters,” the supervisor said and Bimpe nodded in agreement.

“Whatever. Your cup is totally full Wura.” she turned to the hefty men behind her. “Seize the bitch.”

“What! What did I do? Olaitan stop this nonsense now!” To say that fear has now gripped her would be an understatement.

“It is queen to you, not Olaitan,” she wagged a finger angrily at Wura. “How dare you, Wura? I will teach you that a woman owns the kingdom as well. Take her to the dungeon!” she ordered.

“What? Get your filthy hands off me!” Wura screamed and fought while the guards held her strongly. “Get off me. You can’t do this!”

Amidst her struggle, she could see Olaitan smiling triumphantly with her gaze focused on something. Wait a minute. Her ring. Wura stopped fighting and started to wish that the guard would hurry off with her, instead of struggling with her. Her instincts screamed out to her that Olaitan would soon demand for her ring.

“Wait!” Olaitan called out. Wura tensed.

“Give me that,” She pointed at the ring. “it’s now mine.”

“No, it was my mother’s and now mine. You can’t have it!” Wura shivered. If Olaitan laid her hand on the ring, she was sure she would never set her eyes on it again and that spells one thing. She was going to be stuck in the future!

“Guards, get that thing off her finger and throw her into the dungeon”

One of the guards struggled to pull off the ring but Wura wouldn’t let him. She fought with all her might. At this point, all she cared about was the ring.

After much struggle, the ring was pulled from her finger and she was taken to the dungeon and thrown into it. Only that this time, the dungeon wasn’t a room like the one she had previously been thrown in, this one was cold and had a little bit of light; enough to see that she would be spending the nights on the cold hard concrete ground.

This is a Pelleura story.

Read the complete ebook here.
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About Funmi Akintade

Funmi Akintade is a writer and team member on Pelleura. She attended FGGC, Bwari, Abuja. and presently lives in Abuja. She loves reading writing, music and anything art.

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