The Unexpected Princess (Completed)

The land was quiet as the first rays of the sun hit the sky. The morning rooster sent its call in the air announcing another day. Yet another day, Naledi Seale thought as she counted the last few seconds left until her alarm went off at five am. She could hear the world outside coming to life – people moved around attending to their morning work, livestock stomped the ground impatiently in their kraals ready to be let out to pasture, and the melodic echo of the songbird from the mountain filtered through her window pulling a smile from her lips. Naledi opened her eyes and looked around her room. There was nothing new there, same bed, same closet and same personal trinkets on the dressing table opposite her bed. The bleak monotony of her life was weighing her down. And the sinking feeling she hasn’t managed to throw off for the past few days now wrapped around her again, wiping her smile away. Every morning was the same thing. She would wake up to this feeling as if the passing of time cemented her fate. She’s felt like this for a long time. But lately it has been overwhelming and suffocating, driving her crazy. Quickly, Naledi pushed the feeling away – not now, she’ll wallow in her misery later. Now she was due to start her work at the royal homestead. She was the head housekeeper/ chef of the royal house of the Batloung Clan. It wasn’t a job she had chosen for herself. It was a legacy she’s had to uphold. When she had gone to college for her culinary and hospitality training she hadn’t pictured herself here, cooking, on occasion cleaning and managing a house royal or not. She had wanted to get a job on a cruise ship, and see the world. And eventually she would have settled down – find herself a simple man, work at a prestigious five star hotel, and make a life for herself. But a legacy she couldn’t refuse nor refute had been waiting for her. Naledi looked up at the simple white ceiling of her room. Her mind going back to the story her grandmother had told her and her cousins many times. Her family’s story dated back to the time of king Shaka’s mfecane – a time of widespread war and great displacement of tribes – when one of her ancestors had been captured. In that time captured prisoners became slaves who performed domestic work for the chieftaincy in the royal homestead. Her family has been in servitude for centuries, serving from one ruler to the next from generation to generation. They embraced it as a way of life. And were viewed as trustworthy assets of the royal family. A position they were not willing to change or abandon. They were bound by some invisible code they had no choice but to honour. And in its rudimentary way it offered the family some form of security and way of life. Come drought, economic recession the job will always be there. And now it was her turn to take over from her grandmother as the only surviving female in her family. Naledi breathed out a sigh of hopelessness. It was time she made peace with her situation. This was her life now. The alarm clock on the bedside table went off. Naledi reached over to silence it. She got out of bed and mechanically made her bed. Her movements were methodical and economical, wasting no time on the same task. She liked her surroundings to be pristine and orderly, because it was the only thing in her life she could control and mold into whatever she wanted. Naledi went through her morning routine, taking a quick bath. She usually lingered and pampered herself with a long scented bath at night, when she could just be herself, and not a servant. She put on her normal clothes leaving the chef’s attire for later in the day when she will be in the kitchen. She wound her long dreadlocks in a white head cloth, instead of wearing the chef’s hat. She spared herself a glance in the mirror when she applied mascara to her eyes. The only feminine product she allowed herself to use. She finished off her look by putting on her spectacles. Dineo would be disappointed, Naledi thought as she stared at her herself in the mirror. ‘Minimum makeup does not a pretty face make.’ Naledi shook her head as her friend’s words filtered in her mind. She went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast/lunch for her grandmother. She usually woke up later in the day. And Naledi didn’t want her to trouble herself preparing food. That done, Naledi made her way to the royal homestead. There was only one main road in the village, and it started at the royal homestead and ended at the market where the entrance to the village was. The royal house was nestled right at the foot of the mountain. From where Naledi was on the road she could see a sprawling white two storey mansion that seemed to be built right into the mountain – rock faces blended well with walls, adding to the illusion. The waning winter sun highlighted its high laying walls, gold inlaid domes and wide windows. It was like a white gem in all its splendor – beautiful, and the very life and pride of the people. The Batloung brothers had modified it over the years, making it the crown jewel of their rule. After many years of disputes between the Batloung and the Tshukudu’s, the rightful rulers of the land, the people were finally united. And the fairy-tale wedding Naledi had helped organised for Lesedi two year ago cemented their unity. Naledi remembered that day – it had been magical. The things dreams were made of. And she’d wished for a taste of that dream. But her reality was a different entity. Naledi sighed at that thought. She walked on smiling at the people she met along the road. Joyce called out to her from her pottery store. Naledi smelled burning clay and wood as she got closer. She loved Joyce’s store. There was always something new and strange on display. She couldn’t wait to see what she had created this week. Naledi pushed at her spectacles with her middle finger as she got closer. “Hey, Joyce. I only have a minute to spare,” Naledi said as she stood at the open window. “No, it’s nothing. We will talk about it at the Outreach Program meeting on Saturday,” Joyce smiled dusting around the pottery. In the center of the store sat a donkey with what was clearly a shoe in its mouth. It looked like it bit more than it could chew. The sculpture was stunning, but… Naledi stifled the giggle that formed in her throat. She waved her goodbyes, and made her way to work. The golden gates to the royal house came into view. The security guards at the gate nodded to her as she passed. She made her way up the slope to the back of the house. The sinking feeling she’d felt earlier returned to fill her stomach as she reached her destination. Later, Naledi admonished herself as she walked through the back door of the house. She preferred it that way. She liked it when she came in, did her work and disappeared as if she was never there. Naledi walked into the kitchen and smelled the clean scent that hung in the air. The kitchen was fitted with steel cupboard and marble counters. It gleamed with a clean lustre from the counters to the tiled floor. It was big and had every modern appliance that one could think of, which made Naledi’s life easier. A coal stove was tucked in a corner near the door for days when they didn’t have electricity, which was not that often. Naledi found everyone in their uniform waiting in line for inspection. She ran the house like a military general. Everything had to be spotless and well placed. It was a royal house; there was no room for mistakes. “Morning,” she said walking down the line as she inspected them. She came to a stop in front of the group. “As you all know we have a big night tonight. Pulo ya Dikgoro Dance is finally here. With all the preparations we’ve already done everything will go according to plan. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to be diligent at our work. The guests must feel well taken care of and welcome.” Naled stared at each one of them as she spoke. She paused letting her words sink in. “Okay, let’s get to work.” Naledi watched the maids move to go start their duties. Some remained in the kitchen to help her with preparing breakfast. She moved to the board next to the fridge where she had pinned the menus to be prepared for the guests. Traditional food will be prepared outside for the crowd that will gather. She only had the selected guests to worry about. That will come later, Naledi thought for now she had to prepare breakfast for the chief. Afterwards she’ll perform her usual routine checks of the house. The maids sometimes overlooked things in their hurry to finish. And she couldn’t have that – not tonight anyway. The house will be milling with guests and the prince brothers will be there as well. Everything had to be immaculate. Naledi pulled ingredients from the fridge and went to work. As she immersed herself in her work her mind drifted this way and that. In the afternoon during her long break from work she’ll go visit with Dineo at the market, just to while away the hours and be herself, until she had to come back on duty for the evening hours, Naledi decided concentrating on the omelette the old chief loved so much. He usually loved everything she made for him. Naledi smiled, the chief was the only thing that made the job bearable. Him and her grandmother, they made her sacrifice somewhat worthwhile. But sometimes it got to her. Like today. “Is the toasted bread ready?” Naledi asked turning her mind to her work. Later, she told herself, later she will allow herself to wallow in her misery. Taking a deep breath she concentrated on what she was doing.