“So an epidemiologist?” the queen asked between delicate bites of her meal. “Not a doctor? It’s best when one knows one’s limitations.”

“Doctors diagnose diseases, Mother. Epidemiologists save the world from them,” Thabiso said from her other side, where he’d remained mostly silent throughout the meal. Instead of making jokes, he’d responded to his parents’ questions with clipped responses. Each time he tried to talk to her, he’d been interrupted by a minister or an advisor or a priestess, all demanding his time and pressuring him about one thing or another. She started to feel vicariously stressed on his behalf, and she was only half listening.

Ledi thought of his silly jokes in Mrs. Garcia’s apartment, and of how he’d made her dinner and been so proud of that small accomplishment. Jamal was truly a different person from the stiff, overburdened Thabiso, who seemed to be on the job even in the midst of his own celebration. A small part of her, just a few molecules really, thought maybe it was understandable that he’d wanted to be someone else, even if just for a short while.

“So you have no memory of your parents at all?” the king jumped in, continuing the tag team pattern he and his wife had established. “That’s quite . . . convenient.”

Ledi choked on the bite of cake she’d been swallowing, and both Thabiso and Nya pounded at her back. She’d allowed the king and queen their polite rudeness, but she’d had about enough. Heat rushed to her face as she stood and glared down at them. “There are many ways to describe growing up an orphan, but convenient isn’t one of them.”

“Enough,” Thabiso said in a tone Ledi hadn’t heard from him before. It was deep and rough and shot straight through Ledi’s eardrums and down between her legs. She liked his commanding tone, it seemed. A lot.

“Yes, tell her to have a seat,” the queen said.

“Actually, it’s you who should have a seat, Mother.”

The queen tilted her head at him, genuinely confused. “I’m already sitting.”

The king leaned toward her. “Oh, that’s something the youth are saying these days. It means—”

“It means you’re going to stop blatantly disrespecting your future daughter-in-law,” Thabiso said. “Immediately.”

There was a taut silence, and then the king picked up his fork and dug into his dessert. “This cake is delicious, isn’t it?”

Ledi slowly sank down into her seat. “Yes. Delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

“Our culinary school turns out some of the best chefs in the world.” The king made congenial small talk about cakes, pies, and pastries for the next few minutes. The queen sipped her coffee in silence. Her gaze slipped to Naledi every once in a while, but her expression was unreadable.

The rest of the dinner passed amicably enough. There was dancing and performances by groups from various tribes, and Ledi got a short-lived second wind, although she steered clear of the dance floor. She was enraptured by the bright colors and the music that almost tempted her past her reservedness, but that didn’t stop her from falling asleep in her seat. Even the strong, bitter coffee couldn’t keep her from nodding off.

She awoke in Thabiso’s arms as he carried her to her room. For a moment she just blinked up at him. His face was handsome as ever, but his eyes were tired, and a frown rested on the lips she’d grown so used to seeing stretched in a smile. The desire to wipe away that frown rose in her so strongly that she shifted in his hold, trying to escape the feeling.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, and her heart lifted to see his grin again.

Stupid heart. It hadn’t done anything but pump blood at a steady pace before Thabiso had come into her life, but it had been engaging in all kinds of bizarre behaviors since he’d stepped into the kitchen at the Institute.

“You’ve read too many fairy tales,” she said grumpily as he deposited her in front of her suite. “I hate to break it to you, but there’s no such thing as a happy ending.”

“One can never read too many fairy tales,” he replied. He moved closer, the bulk of him reminding her of how good it had felt to be pressed beneath his weight as he pushed into her. Her body was suddenly warm, and the heaviness of the material wasn’t the only reason she wanted out of her dress.

Thabiso lifted his hand and skimmed his knuckles down the length of her neck, and if there was anything fairy tale about the feeling it produced, it was from the naughty retellings she’d found on the internet. Lust. Slickness between her legs and a tremble in her knees, just from that one touch.

“And I know you’ve experienced a happy ending. At least two.” His hand stopped feathering down her neck. “I’ve felt you shake in my arms, cry out with my name on your tongue. Your next happy ending is waiting for you whenever you desire it, Naledi.”

And then his hand slipped away, and he turned and made his way back down the long hallway. Ledi realized that she was on her tiptoes, every sensitive part of her body angled up toward the space Thabiso had just vacated.

She lowered herself onto her heels and exhaled. She’d thought that Jamal and Thabiso were entirely different men, but unfortunately for her, they had one thing in common: her defenses were useless against them.

Chapter 25

Ledi stared out the window of her room, which was three times the size of her apartment, sipping a cup of the tea Alehk had gifted her and wishing it had more caffeine. She’d already had two cups but felt more muddled instead of less. Jet lag was no joke.