Is it, though? Like her Velcro theory, her “I’m not here to make friends” theory was quickly unraveling. Her social cell membrane had completely failed her, but maybe that wasn’t always such a bad thing.

She passed a small restaurant; through the window she could see men squeezed into the small space and laughing as they told stories and ate delicious-looking meat. Her stomach growled, despite the rich breakfast she’d eaten. The one Thabiso had brought in to her, again, despite his gaggle of servants.

Ledi trudged forward to the hospital, but a familiar scent caught her attention as she walked by a small shop. She stepped inside, the rattle of beads above the door announcing her entry as she was enveloped in a mélange of smells, some floral, some musk.

An older woman with long, gray dreads and a round face turned toward her, and then her eyes widened. “My lady! Welcome back.” She hurried from behind the counter and curtsied.

“Um . . .” Ledi curtsied back, or as close as she could get after spending the morning astride a donkey.

“Oh, I remember when you were a little potbellied thing, toddling around, and now look at you! The spitting image of your grandmother. We are all so happy you have returned,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

Ledi shifted uncomfortably under the woman’s gaze. This was the first time she had been out on her own away from the palace and she hadn’t thought about how people would react to her. She certainly hadn’t expected this kind of reception.

The woman curtsied again, as if she also didn’t know the protocol for interacting with a prodigal betrothed. “We prayed to the goddess that the prince would find a bride and end this terrible curse that has befallen our land, and our prayers were answered tenfold!”

“Thank you. I’m happy to be back, although this is all a bit overwhelming for me.” Ledi lifted a sachet of leaves and sniffed it. “Why do you think the goddess would punish the country because Thabiso was unwed?”

Thabiso had mentioned there were rumors but she’d been on palace grounds since her arrival. No one would dare speak ill of him there.

The woman seemed surprised. “Well, you should talk to your uncle. He is a very educated man, but he is well versed in the traditional ways, too. Even before the illness started, he warned us of what would happen if the prince dawdled. Ingoka has given Alehk the gift of foresight, and he wishes to use it to aid the people of Lek Hemane, and of Thesolo.”

The way the shopkeeper spoke of Alehk raised the hairs at the back of Ledi’s neck. Maybe they had a little something going on, or maybe she just had a crush, but there was something beneath the woman’s words that seemed off. Some people thought science was all about cold, hard facts, but that wasn’t exactly true, especially when it came to fieldwork.

The facts come eventually, one of her professors had told their class. But before that, there is instinct. It’s not mumbo jumbo—we are animals, after all, and instinct is just a tool in our species’ survival kit. Never forget that.

“Are the townspeople unhappy?” Naledi asked. “Did they not feel my grandparents were leading them well?”

She thought of the frail couple hooked up to tubes and felt a flare of anger on their behalf.

“No, not at all, my lady!” The woman grimaced and looked about, as though they weren’t the only ones in the tiny shop. “It’s just . . . you have been away for a long while, living in the US with all of its opulence. Annie and Makelele are content with slow change, but Alehk thinks we could do more to help all Thesoloians live richly, not just those in the palace.”

Ledi was going to counter that her tiny studio wasn’t opulent, but she swallowed that comeback because it was a lie, comparatively speaking. She was privileged, yes, but what she had seen of Lek Hemane didn’t jibe with an underserved community. This woman had obviously never seen an overcrowded Bronx classroom or a housing project in Brooklyn in dire need of repair.

Ledi took another tack.

“Oh, is it Alehk who got the solar panels installed?” Ledi asked. “And the heated coils in the sidewalks?”

“That was your grandparents’ doing,” the woman admitted. “They have been working with Prince Thabiso on environmental initiatives.”

“That seems very forward thinking to me,” Ledi said.

“Indeed,” the woman said, and then laughed nervously. Her smile was now of the “I said too much” variety. “We are all wishing for their quick return to health. Please take the tea as my gift.”

She picked up the box of sachets Ledi had been sniffing and handed them over. “They are a combination of local herbs and it is said to bring clear thinking, luck, and . . . assistance in the bedroom.”

The woman gave her a coquettish grin as she not so subtly guided her to the door, and Ledi couldn’t help the heat that rose to her face. Thabiso didn’t need any additional skills in the bedroom.

And why would you give the tea to him, anyway?

Ledi tucked the tea into her bag, gave her thanks, and headed for the hospital, mulling over the woman’s strange behavior. She was only a visitor, but it seemed that Thesolo was a nation that took the well-being of its citizens seriously. She’d have to do more digging, but something wasn’t adding up. The woman had spoken as if those in power didn’t do enough—worse, as if Thabiso had actively brought harm to them. Ledi tried not to imagine the pressure of having thousands of people blame your bachelor lifestyle for a disease. No wonder Thabiso had risked asking her for help.