Chapter 81: Different paths

Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Different paths

By the time Adesewa returned home, the sun had already begun its descent over Ilebi.

The main courtyard of the Oriyomi family residence was quieter than usual, with servants moving between the different buildings and members of the family returning from their various duties.

Adesewa didn’t stop to speak with anyone.

She went directly toward her father’s study.

Two guards standing outside immediately bowed.

"Young Miss."

Adesewa nodded.

"Is my father inside?"

"Yes, Young Miss."

She pushed open the door.

Her father sat behind a large wooden desk, several documents spread before him.

He was a man who rarely allowed his emotions to show on his face.

The negotiations between the two families had occupied much of his attention over the past few months. There were businesses to discuss, resources to calculate, agreements to draft, and old grievances that had to be carefully buried beneath new promises.

But today, there was something he cared about more than all of them.

He looked up when Adesewa entered.

"You’re back."

"Yes, Father."

He immediately put the document in his hand down.

"How did it go?"

Adesewa walked toward the desk.

"It went well."

Her father stared at her.

"Well?"

"Yes."

A moment passed.

Then his expression changed.

Not dramatically.

But the tension that had been sitting around his eyes disappeared.

"Really?"

Adesewa nodded.

"Really."

Her father leaned back in his chair.

For the first time that afternoon, a genuine smile appeared on his face.

"Good."

He let out a long breath.

"Very good."

Adesewa smiled faintly.

"I expected you to be pleased."

"Pleased?"

Her father laughed.

"I’m more than pleased."

He stood from behind the desk and walked around it.

"I was prepared for many things when this marriage was proposed."

He shook his head.

"A difficult young man. Resentment toward our family. Someone who would tolerate you because of his grandfather’s wishes but make your life miserable afterward."

Adesewa raised an eyebrow.

"That sounds rather pessimistic."

"It was realistic."

Her father looked at her.

"Do you think I didn’t understand what our families were doing?"

His smile faded slightly.

"This marriage was born from blood, old hatred, and business. We were asking two young people to stand in the middle of something neither of them created."

He sighed.

"So I prepared myself for the worst."

Adesewa folded her hands in front of herself.

"And?"

"And you come back telling me it went well."

He laughed again.

"I did not expect that."

Adesewa’s lips curved upward.

"We spoke."

"That’s all?"

"We spoke about our families. The marriage. Our expectations. Our ambitions."

She paused.

"And neither of us seemed particularly interested in making the other miserable."

Her father’s smile widened.

"That is already more than I expected."

Adesewa nodded.

"I think the marriage might actually be happy."

Her father froze.

"Happy?"

"Yes."

He stared at her for several seconds.

Then he suddenly laughed.

Not the restrained laugh he usually gave during business discussions.

A genuine laugh filled the study.

"Happy."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"Do you know how many times I imagined that conversation going differently?"

Adesewa smiled.

"I assume many."

"Very many."

He returned to his chair and sat down.

"When your grandfather and I first discussed this proposal, I thought we were planting a bitter kola tree."

Adesewa looked at him curiously.

Her father smiled.

"But the place we want to plant the bitter kola already has the plant."

Adesewa understood the proverb.

She laughed softly.

"So you think we won’t need to force anything."

"Exactly."

He leaned back.

"If two people can sit across from each other and speak without hatred, without resentment, and without trying to prove who has more power..."

He nodded.

"Then half the work has already been done."

Adesewa sat down opposite him.

Her father looked at her thoughtfully.

"And you?"

"I don’t know what the future will bring."

She answered honestly.

"But I don’t dislike him."

Her father raised an eyebrow.

"That is a remarkably high compliment from you."

Adesewa smiled.

"I suppose it is."

"And?"

She thought for a moment.

"I think he’s interesting."

Her father’s expression became amused.

"Interesting?"

"He’s difficult to read."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Not dangerous."

She shook her head.

"Just... different from what I expected."

Her father nodded slowly.

"Then perhaps we were fortunate."

He glanced toward the window.

The city stretched beyond the walls of the estate, its buildings glowing beneath the afternoon sun.

"Do you understand what this marriage could mean if everything goes well?"

Adesewa nodded.

"Peace between the families."

"That is only the beginning."

His voice became more serious.

"The business agreement between our families is enormous."

He tapped his fingers against the desk.

"Blacksmithing, cultivation resources, distribution networks, merchants, suppliers..."

He looked at his daughter.

"If this succeeds, neither family will remain where it is now."

Adesewa listened quietly.

"Every member of both families will benefit."

He paused.

"Not just the heads of the families."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone."

His eyes held a rare excitement.

"The standing of our families in Ilebi will rise dramatically. Our influence will extend beyond what either family could achieve alone."

He leaned forward.

"If we handle this correctly, we could become one of the city’s major powers."

Adesewa’s expression became thoughtful.

"That significant?"

"More than significant."

He smiled.

"Think about what happens when two established families combine their strengths instead of wasting them against each other."

He gestured toward the documents on his desk.

"We gain access to resources neither side could efficiently secure alone. Our businesses become larger. Our cultivation resources improve. Our people gain opportunities."

He paused.

"And the name of every member of our families carries more weight."

Adesewa nodded slowly.

Her father leaned back again.

"One day, people may speak of the Oriyomi and your husband’s family in the same breath as families like Inaara."

Adesewa’s eyes widened slightly.

"Inaara?"

"Yes."

His voice carried genuine ambition now.

"That is the level this could reach."

He looked toward the window again.

"Of course, none of that is guaranteed."

"I know."

"The business arrangement could fail. The families could fall back into old habits. The marriage could become unhappy."

He looked directly at her.

"But today, you have given me one less thing to worry about."

Adesewa smiled.

"I suppose that’s good."

"Very good."

Her father stood again.

He walked toward the window and looked down at the estate.

"For years, our families looked at each other and saw enemies."

His voice became quieter.

"Perhaps our children will be the ones who finally see something else."

Adesewa remained silent.

Her father turned back toward her.

"And you said you think the marriage might be happy?"

"Yes."

He smiled.

"Then I hope you’re right."

A brief silence followed.

Then he laughed softly.

"Your mother is going to be unbearable when she hears this."

Adesewa chuckled.

"She already wanted to know how it went."

"Then go tell her."

"She’ll probably ask me every detail."

"Give her what you are willing to give."

Adesewa stood.

"I will."

She walked toward the door.

Just before she left, her father spoke again.

"Adesewa."

She turned.

"Yes?"

His expression was warm.

"I’m glad."

She smiled.

"So am I."

Then she left the study.

Her father remained by the window, looking out over Ilebi.

For the first time since the marriage proposal had been made, he allowed himself to imagine a future where the alliance did not merely prevent another conflict.

A future where both families actually prospered.

And perhaps, if his daughter was right, a future where the marriage itself became something neither family had expected.

Something genuine.

Tolu noticed something was wrong the moment he stepped into the training grounds.

It was too quiet.

He looked around.

Usually, at least one of the others would already be there. Akin would be practicing his sword forms, Temi would be complaining about something while swinging her short swords, or Ore would be somewhere nearby with her bow.

Today, there was no one.

Tolu frowned.

He waited for several minutes.

Nothing.

He checked the dining room.

Empty.

The library.

Empty.

He even walked through the courtyard and checked the rooms they usually spent time in.

Still nothing.

Tolu’s frown deepened.

He finally found Folami sitting beneath the shade of a tree, looking completely unbothered.

"Where are they?"

Folami looked up from the book in his hand.

"Who?"

Tolu stared at him.

"Akin. Temi. Ore."

"They’re not here."

"I can see that."

Folami turned a page.

Tolu walked closer.

"Where did they go?"

"I enrolled them in places where they can be trained properly."

Tolu stopped.

"What?"

Folami closed the book.

"Your three friends have different aptitudes."

He looked at Tolu calmly.

"Temi and Ore have an aptitude rated Excellent."

Tolu listened silently.

"Akin’s is even higher."

There was a brief pause.

"He has an aptitude that places him above them."

Tolu’s expression changed slightly.

"Then why wasn’t I enrolled?"

Folami studied him.

"I’m not saying you won’t reach the height they will."

Tolu remained quiet.

"I’m saying you have a different path."

Folami stood.

"The places I sent them are suited to what they need. Their talents can be developed much further there than they can under the kind of training I can provide here."

He paused.

"But your situation is different."

Tolu looked at him.

"How?"

"You’re not someone who can simply follow the same path as everyone else."

Folami’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"You have your own strengths. Your own weaknesses. Your own circumstances."

Tolu didn’t answer.

Folami continued.

"Trying to train you in the same places I sent them would not give you what you need to survive."

"Survive?"

"Yes."

His voice remained calm.

"You might not believe me now, but eventually you’ll understand."

Tolu lowered his gaze for a moment.

Folami stepped closer.

"If you want to stand beside them in the future, you need more than cultivation."

Tolu looked back up.

"You need influence."

The words settled between them.

"Power is important. But influence determines how many doors open before you even reach them."

Folami folded his arms.

"If your friends continue developing at the rate I expect, there will eventually be people around them who are stronger, wealthier, and more influential than you."

Tolu’s expression tightened.

"That doesn’t mean you can’t stand beside them."

Folami shook his head.

"It means you need to build something different."

He pointed toward the city beyond the estate walls.

"Gain influence. Build connections. Earn wealth. Establish your own name."

He looked directly at Tolu.

"If you want a goal to focus on, make that your primary goal."

"Influence?"

"Yes."

"And cultivation?"

"Second."

Tolu was silent.

Folami’s expression softened only slightly.

"That doesn’t mean you stop cultivating."