“This is disappointing, but hopefully Annie will recover before the council meeting. What ails her?”

“That’s just it, sire. No one is sure—”

“Thesolo has the best doctors on seven continents, unless there’s a crack team of penguins we’ve yet to discover in Antarctica,” Thabiso said, letting his frustration get the best of him. “What do you mean no one is sure?”

Likotsi nodded. “You have not spoken falsely, sire. The doctors are working hard to find the cause of the problem and to ensure that she recovers quickly.”

Unease slithered around Thabiso’s ankles like a cobra, and he was worried that the venomous strike would come sooner rather than later.

“The timing of this is unfortunate, but she’s elderly so it’s not entirely unexpected.” Elderly, but not frail. The way Likotsi’s brow creased convinced him that she thought the same. “Keep me updated of her status, and have the doctors send us their initial findings.”

His thoughts went to Naledi. He’d looked up epidemiology; this was in her wheelhouse, something that would interest her. But discussing it would require him to provide specifics such as location, and she hadn’t responded well to Likotsi’s emails. If he mentioned Thesolo at the wrong moment, in the wrong way, he would also have to drop the news of her past on her like a hippo from a tall building—it would crush her in the messiest way possible, and whatever it was that was growing between them as well.

His resistance to telling her had grown instead of diminished. He liked the way Naledi looked at Jamal; he liked being able to talk and joke freely. Once she knew who he truly was, all of that would change.

“What else is on the docket for today?” he asked. Best to focus on his actual reason for being in New York: improving the welfare of his country.

“After your lunch with the representatives from PharmaMundial this afternoon, there’s a General Assembly at the UN that requires your presence. Cocktails at the South African consulate afterward—”

Thabiso grimaced. “Does that diplomat still work there? The woman who wouldn’t stop calling after our liaison?”

“You mean the woman who you made think she might have a shot at princess-hood? No, she requested to be relocated. I believe she is at the consulate in Iceland now.”

Thabiso wasn’t fond of the censure in Likotsi’s words.

“I didn’t make her think anything. I told her that our arrangement was temporary, while I was here hammering out the details of our environmental treaty.”

“And then you turned on your charm,” Likotsi said, keeping her gaze fixed on the cars passing by. “Just like you’re doing with Naledi.”

“Charm? Aren’t you the same Likotsi who tuts at my supposed rudeness every chance she gets?”

Likotsi made a sound of impatience. “You’re rude and demanding, but that has nothing to do with charm. I don’t know what happened last night to make your betrothed smile at you like that today, but I’m quite certain it wasn’t a confession of your true identity. Or hers.”

Thabiso’s anger flared. “Hectoring me about my interactions with women doesn’t fall under the auspices of your assistantship. What happened last night was . . .” Wonderful? Frightening? “Nunya business.”

Likotsi snorted, but her smile was sincere when she looked at him.

“Your honor, and your sanity, are both under my purview. If you hurt this woman the way you’ve hurt others, you will not brush it off and be the same Prince Thabiso. What started as a search for a shirking betrothed has turned into something entirely different.” Likotsi shook her head. “She doesn’t even know who she is, sire. Is it fair to her to continue on this path? Remember what they say. Sometimes it’s best to bind the finger before it is cut.”

The suggestion made sense; if he ended things now, Ledi would escape unscathed. She would continue living her life, unburdened by the news of who she truly was. He immediately rejected the idea, though. Likotsi might think he was engaging in a strange form of nostalgia, but being around Ledi made him happy. Happiness hadn’t been something he thought was within his reach. Infatuation or not, he wasn’t ready to give up the possibility of . . . Of what he couldn’t rightly say.

He refused to discuss the matter further. “Is the limo coming to take me to the meeting?”

“Given your ongoing deception, I did not think that would be wise. You can live as the humble Jamal would, just in case Naledi sees you in transit.”

She glanced at her phone just as a beat-up sedan pulled up.

“Are you from SuperLifts?” she asked the driver.

The man behind the wheel wore a Yankees cap and a hoodie instead of the chauffer uniform Thabiso was used to. He nodded.

“Yeah. Gonna be around thirty bucks with the surge right now, I think.”

“Twenty.” Likotsi was haggling like an auntie at the marketplace with the person who would be keeping him safe during his ride. Unbelievable.

“You booked the ride in the app. You know I don’t control the price,” the man said.

Likotsi gave a harried sigh. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try. It seems I’m a bit old-fashioned.” She turned to Thabiso while pulling the back door open. “Get in.”

“You’d send me off in a stranger’s car?” Thabiso asked horrified.