It was the verbal equivalent of a tug at the ear.

“I apologize, Mother. I’m just nervous right now.”

“Why should you be nervous? Just because this girl’s deceitful parents abandoned their duties is no reason to think she’ll desert you and make a fool of you before your people. Is there?” The queen’s smile was a bit too knowing for Thabiso’s taste.

“You should be happy she’s returned to fulfill the will of the goddess, Mother,” Thabiso said quietly.

“Her parents should have never left. It was an unforgivable betrayal, and one they can’t be held to account for because—” Thabiso glanced at her when the words cut off, but her face was carefully neutral. An outsider would have thought her completely calm, but Thabiso knew it was a front; she was the one who had taught him to do the same, after all.

Public displays of emotion are for commoners, Thabiso.

“We shall see whether this child of the traitors Libi and Kembe is worthy,” she said grimly.

The man behind her cleared his throat loudly.

“I’m sure my niece is quite up to the standards of your family, Your Highness.” Alehk Jarami had been a boil on Thabiso’s ass since his return, more interested in the failed Omega Corp deal than the fact that his niece had been found, so Thabiso was glad that he seemed to have finally begun to take her return seriously. Naledi needed people on her side, and though he wished her uncle wasn’t a self-interested buffoon, Alehk was one of the few family members she had.

“We shall see,” was all his mother replied, not bothering to hide her doubt.

Thabiso had never thought his mother exceptionally rude, but then again his outlook on life had shifted drastically over the last week.

The drone of the jet’s engine drowned out any further awkward conversation, and all of Thabiso’s attention focused on the plane as it taxied down the tarmac. The noise from the crowd grew as people shouted over the engine noise—it was the largest crowd Thabiso had seen in ages, spread out over the snow-dusted grass on either side of the tarmac. He’d known there’d be some interest, but the welcoming party had quickly turned into unprecedented crowds. They’d had to call in additional security to ensure everyone’s safety. Vendors had set up stands selling caps and T-shirts emblazoned with #RoyalReunion, which was apparently the official social media hashtag. They also sold surgical masks for those worried about the mystery disease. Press from all over the continent had arrived to capture the moment when Africa’s Most Eligible Bachelor introduced his betrothed.

No pressure.

When the plane finally drew to a stop and the engines powered down, several tribal representatives, each clad in the intricately woven cloaks of their people, formed a procession behind the ground crew. A red carpet was unfurled at the foot of the Jetway and strewn with flower petals, scenting the air with hope. The citizens of the council lined up along the carpet, some smiling uncertainly, others wearing dubious expressions. Ledi’s family’s betrayal had been a source of national discontent, but now the populace was being told to welcome her back unconditionally. For a moment, Thabiso wished he could play the role of Jamal amongst his own people, to move among them as a normal citizen so that he could know their thoughts and feelings. But Jamal was retired, and the people’s doubtful expressions would have to suffice.

Only the children—whether the goatherds barely taller than their wards or the young choir members nervously awaiting their moment in the sun—were unequivocally happy about the arrival of their soon-to-be princess.

The children and Thabiso.

He’d tried to resign himself to the fact that he had ruined things. When it came to love, people were often given second chances. Unfortunately, he’d already used up his second chance and was sure that third ones were rather rare.

But even though she detested him—even though he deserved her detestation—she had still come. He’d been alerted as soon as she’d boarded the plane. He would get to see her rediscover the country she had forgotten, and he just might be able to help with the career that was so important to her. It was a paltry consolation prize compared to having her as his own, but it still made him happy to know that perhaps her life could be different—better—now. That she wouldn’t be alone anymore, even if she wasn’t with him.

The low-level murmuring of the crowd grew louder as the door of the plane opened and she stepped out. Her T-shirt, completely inappropriate for the low temperatures of winter in the mountains, was rumpled from the long flight and she blinked like an owl in the bright afternoon sun. She wore no makeup, and the thick hair that he knew was soft to the touch was pulled into a messy ponytail atop her head and wrapped in a scarf. She moved to smooth a palm over her hair, and then a look of shock crossed her face. She ran back into the plane only to emerge a moment later, scarf gone, hair down around her shoulders. She smiled nervously and brought a hand to her stomach.

“This is who you choose over Shanti?” his mother asked through her tight smile.

“Indeed.”

He realized in that moment that he was exactly the selfish bastard that Naledi thought he was. That he would be happy for her altruistically, platonically? Yet another lie in a long string of them. She stood at the door to the plane, green under her brown skin and dressed like she was going to the bodega, and he wanted her so badly that he had to close his fists against it.