EJIMA
The older man turned, “We have only one shot at this. Try not to ruin it.”
“I will try, Papa,” Jide said and hurried after his father.
There were two guards standing side by side with long spears and shields. Each of them had the white hands of the King, emblazoned on their watermelon-sized chest. The frown on their face also suggested that they had not left their standing post all their lives. They probably have not tasted battle. They looked too important to have.
Jide raised his chest and mimicked the pose of his father. Even though he had not been to war, he wouldn’t mind tapping the aura of importance from his father who has been to battles a countless times.
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