“I did not know that,” he said. “I’m sorry that your job is vexing.”

The driver scoffed. “Eh, everything is vexing. Climate change, government trying to kill us, education standards dwindling. Sometimes I wonder why my parents came to this country, the way things are now. But you know? Every night when I get home from work, my Divya is waiting for me. We cook together, and I tell her about the people I’ve met during my shift and she tells me about the people she met during hers. And those moments make everything worth it.”

“She’s also a driver?” Thabiso asked.

“A nurse,” the man said, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “She studied very hard for a very long time. Those loans will take forever to pay off, but she’s never been happier. So I’m happy, too.”

They pulled up to a red light, and when the driver looked over his shoulder at Thabiso, the glower that had been in his eyes was gone, the creases smoothed from his forehead. His eyebrows rose as if he’d had a revelation.

“Actually, I need to change what I said. Everybody wants something from you, but sometimes there’s a person you want to give to. Sometimes what you give them makes you better for having given it. And it makes having to give to everyone else not so bad.”

The driver turned back to the road just as the light switched to green. Thabiso sat back against his seat as if a gust from the summits of Thesolo’s mountains had swept down and bowled him back. Giving of himself had always been a job requirement—his education, his travels, his public persona—had all been calibrated in the way that would best benefit his people. In return, he got to be a prince. That was nothing to scoff at, but of late it had felt like bits of him were being pecked away. Bits that he could never get back.

Was there anyone he wanted to give to? The answer echoed in his head before the question was complete.

Naledi. She had come home to him, like this man did to his Divya, for the last two nights. And the night before, she had come on him. His fingers twitched at the memory of how tight she’d been around them, and how the scent of her had filled the apartment after she’d gone.

But it was more than that; just a few conversations with Naledi had made him want to give more to his people as well. He wanted to do more than go along with the minister’s plans. He had always cared a lot, but now he didn’t feel hemmed in by that caring, so afraid to make the wrong move that he made none at all.

“You got anyone like that?” the driver asked.

“I’m working on it,” Thabiso said. He wished he could say yes, but all he could think about was the way Ledi’s eyes had squeezed shut and her mouth had stretched wide in ecstasy as he’d touched her. He’d wanted to take her as she writhed on his hand, to lift her up and guide her onto his cock. But then she’d cried out “Jamal,” and he’d realized he was behaving like a craven thief at the market. She gave herself to him willingly, took pleasure from his touch, but she didn’t even know his true name. He couldn’t touch her again while this comedy of errors played out.

He thought of the Omega Corp executives smiling greedily across the table from him, already imagining how they’d slice and dice his country to increase their profit margin. Were his fantasies about Ledi any less selfish?

He pulled out his phone and sent a string of messages to Likotsi, letting her know what had happened at the meeting and that he would be back at the apartment soon.

“Good luck,” the driver said when he pulled up in front of Thabiso’s building. Naledi’s building.

Thabiso nodded and left before the man could count out the tip he’d given him. He took the steps two at a time and changed from the suit into something more casual as soon as he entered the apartment. And then he waited.

“SIRE? THIS IS planet Earth calling Prince Thabiso.” Likotsi snapped her fingers in front of his face. Thabiso noticed that she sported a pinkie ring now, filigreed gold with a clear green stone.

“New bling?” he asked, grabbing at her finger. She tugged her hand away.

“It was a gift from a friend,” she said. She tried to be stern, but a smile hovered at the edges of her mouth. “An incredibly beautiful friend. So beautiful it should be a crime to look upon her. And intelligent, and witty, and . . .” She sighed, and Thabiso imagined he knew exactly how she felt.

“So these dating apps work, it seems?” Thabiso asked.

“Yes. Especially when the majority of the people in your dating radius aren’t cousins or cousins twice removed,” she groused. “But enough about me—did you really storm out of the meeting with Omega Corp just to skulk around the apartment this afternoon?”

Maybe Thabiso should have regretted his behavior toward Tad/Todd and Todd/Tad, but the thought of having spent a moment longer with men who wanted to gut his country for the sake of a microchip made his fists clench.

“Bah. There was nothing further to discuss with them.”

“Minister Jarami certainly feels otherwise. He called immediately after the meeting to voice his displeasure about how it was handled. An emergency meeting of the finance ministers has been planned for tomorrow.”

“Pardon?” Thabiso couldn’t have possibly heard correctly.

“Minister Jarami feels this was a grave blow to the people of Thesolo and has called an emergency meeting.” Likotsi’s voice was calm, but anger blazed in her eyes.