“And in the summer, sometimes they show films here, and—”

“Naledi.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. For perhaps the first time since he’d met her, her gaze was unguarded, and he could see the turmoil there. The turmoil caused by their kiss. He didn’t want to know what her face would look like when he revealed the truth, but he would soon find out.

“Let’s sit,” he said, gesturing toward a bench that faced out toward the Hudson. Spring sunlight dappled the muddy green waves of the river, making them as beautiful as the waterfalls that careened over Thesolo’s mountains, wild and heedless. Or perhaps it was Naledi exerting that effect on his perception. “I asked you to do something that you wanted to do today, and I highly doubt that giving me a detailed recounting of the local history is your way of relaxing. You’re always doing for others. Let me do something for you.”

He hadn’t meant to say that, but as she’d rambled on and on, he’d realized she was building a wall of words between him and her. Between their kiss belowground and their time in the park. He couldn’t abide that.

What will she do when she discovers your lie?

Ledi blinked a few times and pulled her hand away slowly.

“Well, then,” she said. She walked over to the bench, turned and sat down, as regal as the queen she was destined to become. “If that’s the case, entertain me.”

A shiver rushed through him that had nothing to do with the breeze from the river. More with the way her thighs pressed together when she crossed her legs, or the gaze she fixed him with. She wasn’t just letting her guard down, which he knew was rather a big thing for her—she was inviting him.

“Shall I dance?” he asked.

“Did you pick up some moves from the train performers?” She raised a brow.

“I have moves of my own, thank you very much.” He hopped to the side, bent his knees, and worked his hips in the traditional dance all Thesoloian boys had to master for the coming-of-age ceremony performed during each spring festival.

Ledi erupted in laughter, which wasn’t the actual effect the dance of manhood was supposed to have, but she couldn’t know. If she’d grown up in Thesolo, she likely would have performed her dance of womanhood alongside him at the ceremony, given that she was his betrothed. She hadn’t been there, though, and a stubborn Thabiso had danced alone. The fact that he’d imagined a brown-skinned girl with happy eyes across from him as he’d performed the ceremony was his secret.

He finished the dance to amused applause from Naledi.

“Don’t act like that didn’t steam your headwrap,” he said as he dropped onto the bench beside her, throwing his arm along the back of it in spite of the splinters. Another peal of laughter rang out from her lips, the sound breaking from her like the evening call of the birds surrounding his palace back home.

“Steam my headwrap? What does that even mean?” She looked up at him, wiping tears of mirth from her cheeks.

Thabiso leaned in a bit closer. “It means, to reach a state of arousal such that the heat produced by the body steams the traditionally starched headwrap until it is . . . limp.”

Ledi blinked a few times. “Okay, I need to know more about where you’re from, where this is an actual thing people say to each other.”

His delight turned to panic, and then to inspiration. Maybe there was a way he could reveal the truth to her that would negate the lies he’d told. It often worked out in the fairy tales—Beauty had still loved the Beast once he revealed he was truly a prince, hadn’t she? Thabiso had a flash of a story in his mind; the Beast in pain and dying alone because Beauty had left him for some reason or another. Not the outcome he was hoping for.

“Okay, okay,” he said, mental wheels spinning in merciless desert sand, until finally, they caught traction. “You’ve given me a tour of your local park, and now I’ll give you one of mine. Just . . . work with me.” He glanced at her to be sure she was giving him her full attention. “We’re in a garden full of lush greenery and beautiful flowers imported from all over the world. That majestic bird over there. You see it?”

“Um, the pigeon?” she asked skeptically. Her brow raised as the bird puffed itself up and began chasing a female bird through a puddle.

“Pigeon? That’s a peacock! They roam the grounds of the park near my home, although they are not a local breed. That over there?” He pointed to a pug walking by, bowlegged and snorting. “That is one of the pigs that live behind the kitchen eating scraps and providing compost material. We don’t eat them, not because they’re unclean, but because they’re much too smart.”

“I’m sure the cows feel some kind of way about that,” she said wryly.

“The cows live a very good life, as do the goats, even if they can’t appreciate it as well as a pig can. Some animals are more equal than others, you know.”

Her mouth curved up into a smile and something in his chest moved out of alignment. He loved seeing her smile. He loved being the cause of it. That smile would fade soon; he hoped that she would be able to forgive him.

“Is there a playground?” Ledi asked as they watched a father walk by with a group of kids on scooters, rushing toward the swings and slides.

“My parents had a play area set up for me, yes.” He was sure she was imagining a small plastic swing set, not the gymnastics arena and amusement park-grade water slide his parents had built for him.