“I’m at this fund-raiser on behalf of my people, not myself, but thank you.”

“Oh, congrats for that, too!” she said, and walked away grinning. Thabiso was slightly confused, but people often said strange thing when they realized they were talking to royalty.

A flash of purple fabric hugging a familiar hip in his peripheral vision caught his attention, but when Thabiso turned to investigate, all he saw was the wide, wax print skirt of a ball gown in the space where the purple apparition had been.

Perhaps he was still so enraptured with Naledi that he’d begun conjuring her up? It wouldn’t be the first time; he’d done the same when he was a child, after all. It would certainly be disquieting if that were the case, but that didn’t stop his sudden sense of unease. He needed to see her. Needed to tell her. He’d created a ridiculous set of preconditions in his head, when in reality there was no good moment other than as soon as possible, you cowering hyena.

Likotsi returned, chewing something and brushing crumbs off of her lapels. “These stuffed plantains are addictive,” she said. “Do you want one before you’re announced?”

“No,” he said, his voice rough from nerves that had nothing to do with speaking in front of a group of people. “What is the earliest time I can leave here?”

“Customarily, the guest of honor stays for at least two-thirds of an event,” Likotsi said, disapproval icing over her words. “Don’t tell me that you’re considering leaving to see her. Do you really think she’s sitting around waiting for you? She said she had plans. She could be out with another man—one who isn’t lying to her.”

The thought of it made Thabiso’s fists clench. A crown of icy panic settled on his head at the thought of some other man, perhaps the one who’d comfort her when she found out Jamal was really Thabiso.

“She didn’t mention any other man,” he said defensively.

“And you didn’t mention living in a palace,” Likotsi said with a Cheshire cat grin. “Funny, the things people omit during love’s first bloom.”

Love? Could that be the ridiculous happiness that settled over him at the mere thought of Naledi, that made him sick with anger at the suggestion of her being with someone else?

Impossible.

Or inevitable, if the priestesses had been correct in their assessment.

The music quieted and the roar of the crowd grew louder for a moment before the shushing began. The MC took to the mike and began joking with the attendees.

“You’re right,” Thabiso said. “I have an obligation here and I can’t go running off because I didn’t tell her when I should have. But tonight—”

“I believe you once told me that your love life was not my purview,” Likotsi said. “Shall we keep it that way until after you’ve told her? I’m not feeling very charitable this evening.”

“Do you want to talk, Kotsi?” Thabiso was worried by the dullness in his assistant’s eyes. When he looked closer now, he noticed the wrinkles that marred her shirt, and that the edges of her short hair were slightly overgrown. She’d had time to get a shape-up before the event, and she hadn’t. In the world of Likotsi, this was catastrophic.

“If Naledi throws you out on your buttocks, as she has every right to, then perhaps we can commiserate about our failed American conquests one day,” she said. “But not yet. I’m still a bit tender, you see.”

Thabiso placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re a good woman. I don’t know what happened, but I know she’s a fool to have hurt you.”

“I seem to be surrounded by fools, lately,” she said, but her smile was affectionate. “For your sake, I hope Naledi is as fond of them as I am.”

The MC’s voice boomed out. “Dinner will be served shortly, but before that, allow me to introduce tonight’s guest of honor. Voted Africa’s most powerful man, and formerly known as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, His Royal Highness, Bringer of Light and Love, Prince Thabiso Moshoeshoe of Thesolo!”

Thabiso wanted to roll his eyes at the honorific, but the man was just reading from a card. Besides, the title had served as a great icebreaker with women in the past. The not-so-distant past, in fact, but the thought of it seemed gauche to him at the moment. Anything but returning to Ledi and telling her the truth, and then getting to his people, seemed unimportant.

“And it seems that we’ll also be the first to congratulate the prince on his impending marriage! Congratulations!”

What? Word spread fast. He couldn’t very well deny it—that would cause a scandal. Thabiso gritted his teeth. Yet another thing he’d have to pretend for the moment.

He strode toward the stage and had taken his first step up onto it when there was that purple flash just out of view again, this time accompanied by a commotion. He turned, and his gaze met familiar brown eyes that were wide with disbelief. His stomach gave a sick jolt and tumble, as if he’d just gone over the side of Thesolo’s highest waterfall in a barrel.

Ledi. With her friend Portia from the other day seated beside her. Ledi was standing, fists clenched at her sides and fury scrawled into her features. She knew he was a prince now. She thought he was an engaged-to-be-married one. He prepared himself for her to scream and shout and make a scene, but she turned from him and glared at her friend.