“Isn’t it weird having people wait on you all the time?” she asked Thabiso as she watched the woman walk away. “Do you really need people roaming around, seeing if you need something done at any given moment?”

“Weird is relative,” Thabiso said with a shrug. “I think living in a shoe box with vermin is a bit strange, but I don’t judge you for it. And in case you’re wondering, palace staff receive high pay, excellent benefits, and can retire at the age of forty-five with a lifetime pension and a home in the place of their choosing. The positions are highly competitive.”

“I’m sure there’s something comparable to this in the States?” Likotsi asked with a wide smile. “Since I’m one of the weird people you’re referring to, I need to keep my options open. Tell me all about the wonderful work environments, salaries, and retirement funds in your country.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean you! Or anyone, really. I’m just rambling,” Ledi said as they passed through the doors to the hospital. Thabiso snickered like a schoolboy laughing at a chastised classmate. She glared at him.

“Of course,” Likotsi said.

Nurses dressed in crisp lilac uniforms bustled about, making their rounds. One of them, a tall, sturdy woman with braided hair, came over to greet them.

“Your Highness. My lady.” She executed a slight bow, then looked at Likotsi with a much less formal expression. “Kotsi.”

“Hi, Sesi,” Likotsi said. She straightened her bow tie. “Long time no see.”

“I assume it’s because some lucky woman has snatched you up,” Sesi said, grabbing a chart.

“Not yet. I’m still enjoying the bachelorette life.” Likotsi smiled mischievously, but even Ledi could see it didn’t reach her eyes.

Sesi seemed pleased with that information, but her flirting stopped as soon as she flipped open the chart. Her expression went from playful to sober. “Annie, Makelele, and the others are the same. They are not doing worse, but they aren’t doing better either. People from their village come to sit and talk with them every day and bring them healing brews, but there are no visitors at the moment.” She looked at Ledi. “You are their granddaughter, no?”

Ledi nodded, and Sesi smiled gently. “They spoke of your mother often, when they were well. They are not awake, but perhaps your presence will help.”

Ledi knew the woman was trying to be comforting, but instead, the low-level nervousness she’d been feeling kicked it up a notch. She tried to smile back, but if it looked as forced as it felt, she wasn’t fooling anyone. Then a familiar warmth slid over her fingers. Thabiso gripped her hand lightly as they followed Sesi, leaving her room to pull away again if she wished.

She didn’t.

He leaned down and said in a low voice, “Do not pressure yourself, Naledi. You know how I feel about fairy tales, but no one is expecting them to hop out of bed and start dancing as soon as you walk into the room. If that does happen, I’ll have to fight our priestesses from taking you into their order.”

“Being a priestess sounds kind of cool,” Ledi said, happy to talk about something apart from her sick grandparents. Her stomach lurched as they passed through a door into the intensive care wing.

Thabiso gave her a faux-serious look. “Yes. I forget you have experience with ritual sacrifice. I’m not sure if you’d appreciate the celibacy, though.”

“I’ve been considering it, actually, given my last few experiences with men,” she said, tugging her hand from his at the reminder of what had passed between them. She wanted his comfort, but last time she’d opened herself up to it, it had come at the price of her trust.

He took it in stride. “In the old days, the king got to wed the priestess of his choosing.”

Ledi ignored him. He was trying to distract her, but Sesi was handing out masks for them to place over their mouths and paper robes and gloves, then pushing open a door.

“Here we are,” she said. “My lady? Would you like to go in alone?”

Ledi didn’t want to go in at all. She wanted to turn and run down the brightly lit white hallway. She wanted to throw up. Maybe she would do both at the same time. The thought of going into the room alone sent a surge of panic through her.

She turned and looked behind her. “Can you come with me?”

Thabiso stepped forward, but Likotsi brushed a touch over his arm. “I believe she was speaking to me, sire.”

“Oh. Of course.” Ledi ignored the disappointment that passed over his face and the corresponding pang she felt that it wasn’t him accompanying her. Not that she cared if she’d hurt him—she’d be leaving Thesolo soon enough, anyway. His feelings weren’t her priority. Whether she had made a difference for her grandparents and the other people who were sick was what mattered in the end.

She walked into the room and Likotsi followed, closing the door with a click.

The two standard hospital beds were pushed together, covered with green and brown traditional blankets bearing a circular pattern that seemed to be the same until you looked closer and saw that they were variations of each other. A teapot sat on the side table, and two mugs that had to have been brought from their home, given their well-used appearance.

Ledi allowed herself to take in their faces. Both dark brown, like hers, and aged, but not crowded with wrinkles. The raised bumps and splotchy red of a rash covered their cheeks and necks, down to below the neckline of their hospital gowns, but it didn’t hide the obvious resemblances to what Ledi saw in the mirror every day. She felt an odd disconnect, as if she was watching some other orphan meet their grandparents for the first time.