“What?” Her voice was barely there because she was exerting all her energy stopping herself from weeping.

“This.”

He hopped to the side, bent his knees, and worked his hips, just as he had in the park that day. A cheer went up from the crowd and Ledi laughed, delight flooding her senses as the realization hit.

“You didn’t make that dance up?” she asked.

“This dance is thousands of years old,” he said, switching to the other leg.

“It is also a question. Only you can answer him,” one of the priestesses said, coming to stand beside Ledi. She leaned forward, opened her arms wide, and then pulled them in, her hips moving in tighter circles than Thabiso’s. “Like this.”

Dancing on a stage in front of a crowd was not something Ledi felt capable of. But Thabiso was looking at her so earnestly as he danced, and the priestesses were clapping and singing, and then there was that connection. The connection she’d felt the moment he’d walked into the Institute pulsed within her, riding the rhythm created by the claps and trills of the priestesses. She’d gone rigid at the idea of dancing, but willed herself to relax, to let her hips sway the way the priestess beside her demonstrated. Her hips didn’t move as fluidly, and she kept messing up the push and pull motion with her arms, but the priestess stepped away, and then there was just Thabiso before her.

His gaze burned into her as he inched closer. With each step, he paused to move his hips, the dance dragging out into something spiritual and sensual at the same time. Ledi’s body tingled and her heart felt filled to overflowing, and after a moment she realized she wasn’t focusing on moving correctly, but on moving naturally.

She understood the dance now, her arms and hips and entire being calling out to Thabiso, opening up to receive him as he moved toward her, ever so slowly. She felt it. Finally, he was before her and they both stopped moving, eyes locked on one another and nothing but the wild beating of her heart—their hearts?—in her ears. Ledi couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and didn’t know how to proceed, but Thabiso did. He dropped to his knees and bowed down before her, and the entire room went silent as he did. She could feel his breath on her toes, something so intimate that it sent a shiver up her body.

“The betrothal ceremony, started all those years ago, is now complete. Naledi has accepted Thabiso’s suit. Let us all welcome her into our hearts.”

Everyone bowed down, following Thabiso’s lead, except the king and queen, who knelt. The queen regarded her steadily, her expression unreadable. Ledi looked out over the room, unsure of what was happening even as the attendees began to stand.

As the euphoria died down, the priestess’s words sank in.

“Accepted what?” she asked.

“Thabiso’s request for your hand. You are now officially engaged in the eyes of Ingoka.”

Chapter 28

Son?”

Thabiso turned at the sound of his mother’s voice echoing in the palace hallway. He hadn’t really spoken to her since Ledi’s arrival, in part because he was busy dealing with rebellious finance ministers and a possible epidemic, and in part because he hadn’t wanted to. He couldn’t think of much to say to her, given her treatment of Ledi, that wouldn’t result in banishment. That wasn’t what he was afraid of, though. He’d never fought with his parents over something substantial. Disagreements about how to rule their country and his deportment were one thing, but the low insults they’d resorted to of late were something he didn’t know how to equate with the people he loved most. He didn’t know how to navigate this new rocky terrain in the geography of their relationship.

“Mother.”

He waited as her heels clicked noisily down the hall, the sound bouncing off of the walls of a palace that had stood strong for generations. That would one day be his.

She slid her arm through his and they fell into step, continuing toward the private wing. They had walked like this so many times before, but it felt forced now, stiff.

“That was quite a spectacle earlier,” she said.

Spectacle? As he had danced with Ledi, he’d felt something move in him. He wasn’t sure if it was Ingoka, but it had been suspiciously close to the center of his chest and had throbbed painfully as Ledi beckoned him closer. Calling it a spectacle cheapened it.

“I was quite pleased with how the purification ceremony turned out,” he said, putting his diplomatic training to good use. “I’m glad the priestesses did not find her wanting. I wish everyone shared their belief in Ingoka’s will.”

His mother sighed, then stopped and looked up at him. “Thabiso, you are our only child. We have tried to instill in you the importance of your role in this kingdom, but perhaps we were remiss in extolling the importance of choosing the proper wife.”

“Interesting. You weren’t quite so particular before I left, throwing any breathing woman my way, and going so far as to bring in Shanti while I was away.”

“Shanti knows how to be a queen because she was raised for it. She would be an excellent and attentive wife, would see to your needs and–”

Thabiso disengaged his arm from hers as frustration made her touch irksome. “I don’t love her, Mother!” Thabiso had never raised his voice to his mother before. Shame and anger and sadness washed over him, and dealing with that was hard enough without taking into account what he had just confessed.