The wedding preparations are underway.
His mother must get tired of being right.
T’Challa thinks this minutes into one of the most awkward dinner of his life. N’Jadaka’s wedding party had arrived around the same time he finished working and the timing couldn’t be worse. As tradition dictated, the two of them would be separated till the day of the wedding but there were rites that an accompanying wedding party of the initiating marriage partner, which wasn’t always a groom, would have to do. T’Challa expected this wedding party to arrive a week or three from now. Their arrival confirms the unbelievably short timeline of his future wedding. A timeline that was miraculously hitting every minute detail and side piece of what should have been a month long affair.
There are some Dora mixed in within the party but it’s mostly an assorted mix of Border Tribesmen and … a smatter of Mining Tribe. The latter is unexpected, Border and Mining Tribe didn’t really get along as a general rule. T’Challa recognizes some faces from special occasions and holiday get togethers but the majority are strangers and representing a man they all barely knew. Though he supposed Wakanda has had months to get to know their new foreign born king.
“Prince T’Challa? Why did you agree to marry King N’Jadaka?” A voice asks not too far from him, someone else swears and the ripple effect of voices, to reprimand or quiet the speaker makes it hard at first for T’Challa to pick them out. When he does find the person who questioned him they’re wearing a very stubborn expression while the elder next to them looks ready to throw a fit. He’s not surprised to see the person who posed the question is young, not more than twenty if that. They probably wouldn’t be in attendance if not for the good luck and fortune, children were supposed to bring to weddings and engagements. Most of the room was T’Challa’s age or older, not quite middle aged by their average life spans but no longer so young.
T’Challa’s lips form an uncertain smile. So far the dinner has been very quiet, limited to stiff pleasantries and a surprising concern to etiquette. This was much preferred.
“That’s a good question.” He says first to try and allay the surrounding audience’s caution or fear at potential offense.
“I… said yes because N’Jadaka persuaded me to see how my role would serve Wakanda. I am not good at being idle.” His answer is diplomatically bland, said not just for the benefit of this young curious face but everyone else listening.
“You’re going to boss all the other wives around—“ The elder next to the youth does something under the table that causes them to stop mid sentence. The room, already quiet turns deadly so.
T’Challa can’t help it, seeing the elder’s expression and the general shock of the room, he laughs. It breaks the stillness and soon some uneasy chuckles follow his.
“Prince T’Challa don’t mind this little one, she meant no offense.” Someone nearby, intercedes for the youth when the elder who was perhaps a father or uncle doesn’t. T’Challa shakes his head.
“I took no offense, be at ease.” The usual pleasantry flows off his lips like water. He wonders if any of the people in attendance had a relative in the harem. It was possible. Not too long after that incident he leaves the group and dining area with a respectful greeting. Ramonda hadn’t been in attendance, presumably because she herself was working or she was avoiding the awkward wedding party that would be staying with them for the next few days. T’Challa just wishes he could do the same.
The thought of his mother makes him sigh. He hadn’t meant to ignore her messages. He would have answered if he hadn’t assumed incorrectly what they were about. Now the opportunity was missed and she was probably peeved with him. He decides to go see her in the morning, some space after living in each other’s pockets for months wouldn’t hurt.
-:-
The next day the wedding party continues the ceremonial chain that would lead up to an actual wedding rite. T’Challa has to be present for all of it. That requirement cuts in significantly into his previous plans for the day. T’Challa doesn’t see his mother till later in the day and by then he’s sporting a headache from socializing, speaking with more people than he has in weeks and being ‘on’ all day. Some of the day’s activities had been recorded and that had added extra weight to everything he said and did. Wakanda hasn’t had a harem in decades, nor had they seen this much ceremony and fanfare done in record breaking time. Every time they broadcast, thousands of Wakandans watched. He would wonder how N’Jadaka was spinning the speed of it all if he wasn’t more worried about how soon he could be called into the harem palace.
Over a low table and some tea his mother summarizes a document she had just received. T’Challa has an incomplete version of it, made up of his own compilations the day before of each and every harem member. His compilation had focused on the respective member’s families, political connections and motives. His mother’s file has medical, education, social media and even private records. T’Challa is both impressed and a little sick with the thoroughness.
“He chose two from each tribe, but only one is proper royalty. The rest are well placed or … unknowns.” His mother details as a slideshow of faces cycle between them.
“If they weren’t well placed before, they are now aren’t they?” He questions as he slides through the biography of the youngest amongst the group. A 24 year old Mining Tribe woman with Innana’s genes... T’Challa wonders what her family had been thinking to offer her up for marriage. Innana’s gene was a special and treasured mutation amongst Mining Tribe and the gene wouldn’t proliferate further if she was paired with a non-receptive spouse. Which N’Jadaka certainly was not as Panther Tribe and with his foreign mother. Had N’Jadaka even known when he picked her?
“Yes. Their respective elders will certainly favor them now.” His mother clicks with her right and another screen appears for a few seconds for her to send a short message. T’Challa doesn’t catch the receiver’s name.
He refocuses on the information in front of him but gets distracted once more by the skew of ages. It wasn’t surprising considering N’Jadaka himself was 28 but T’Challa feels very uneasy when he realizes the oldest member was still several years his junior. If they were anything like Shuri who he knew was incredibly mature for her age he would… Bast he didn’t want to do this.
“The River Tribe princess has been the most favored since the formation of the harem. She will give you trouble, after her there’s a Merchant Tribesman who has maintained some sway.” Ramonda continues to read T’Challa scans the picture of the man, “Hashaan.” He was very fair with brown hair that curled uncontrollable, not attractive even by Merchant Tribe’s relaxed standards. The princess, “Amina” was gorgeous in comparison. Deep brown skin and delicately placed eyes stare peer back at T’Challa from under an artfully styled wave of braids. There is an assurance and grace that couldn’t be denied even in the still photo.
“None of them are from a major family.” T’Challa comments after a break in the flow of condensed summarization. His mother nods. “He might have done that intentionally, but I doubt it. I’ve been reliably informed he chose them all for their… appearances.”
T’Challa scans the group again, 5 of whom were lighter than Nakia—a veritable standard of beauty—and concurs. N’Jadaka might not have been lying when he said he didn’t pick them for their abilities. Certainly none of them with the exception of the princess would have been a favorite or even heir within their clan.
“Have any of them…?” T’Challa trails off giving his mother a meaningful glance. For whatever reason he can’t complete his sentence.
She shakes her head and T’Challa deflates. A pregnant concubine was more work than he wanted to deal with right off the bat.
“It’s still early, even if they must be trying ardently.” Ramonda’s voice is very dry. T’Challa just shakes his head.
“They can’t be allowed to, of course. Something I suspect N’Jadaka will support you in.” Ramonda continues and T’Challa looks up from the display to meet his mother’s eyes.
N’Jadaka seemed very keen on holding on to the control he had and giving his harem heirs to later dethrone him with would be the height of unwise. But something tells T’Challa it wouldn’t be that simple.
“Have you looked over my templates?” He switches the topic to his task for the evening, responding to the mountain of messages.
His mother shakes her head, “I haven’t had the time. Who do you intend to message primarily?”
T’Challa lists the groups of people he had created messages for, his mother nods approvingly. “It’s good that you’re focusing on these people. They are who matters now. I have secured some promises from the capital’s temple but there are still other hurdles. If others join their voices to mine it would be easier to change more things. It would be better if you could visit some in person but…”
T’Challa grimaces. In person visits were more dangerous than carefully worded letters. If he was seen to be ‘consorting’ with some of Wakanda’s most venerated he would be accused of collusion or other nasty plots. Some thing that would not have been commented on were he king would certainly turn tongues wagging now. It’s not lost on him who would be doing the accusing either. The hypocrisy makes him want to laugh. “I don’t know about the council of elders. I’m still not sure what they thought would happen and—“
“It’s good to ignore them for now. They should lay in the beds they have made for a while.” The way Ramonda says it, tells T’Challa there must be a story he hasn’t heard yet. So he asks, “Why? What’s been happening?”
Most of his research hadn’t turned up much for movements at the highest level of Wakandan government. There were many small ripples, different workplace allotments, new agricultural projects, increased funding to certain departments yes but not at the highest level. Besides a few minor project cancellations and missed holiday events anyway.
“It’s not good to be greedy T’Challa.” His mother says with a dark smile. “Greed will trap you and some things are better left as wishes.”
“What did he give them?” T’Challa asks again after a beat, heart rate increasing at the confirmation that N’Jadaka *had* successfully bought the council for a time.
“What they asked for. He gave them exactly… what they asked for.” Ramonda answers cryptically again and T’Challa’s brows furrow as he considers what that meant.
What would each elder ask for that a king could give and then use as leverage against them? He’s still considering his mother’s words when he gets a new notification on his kimoyo beads.
The notification is from a query he’d set to ping him for trending topics relating to N’Jadaka and governance topics.
>>>> King N’Jadaka gives a touching address about the late King T’Chaka at Kaumari Theater!
T’Challa clicks out of the notification before it can begin to play a recording from the event. One breath, two breaths then he looks back to the table.
“I need to know what he gave them.” He demands and this time his mother tells him.