by Alyssa Cole
“Are you all right?” Thabiso leaned close, enveloping her in his signature scent. The same scent she had smelled in the tea she’d sniffed, and even more strongly in the tea she’d drunk from Alehk.
“May I taste that, please?” she asked Likotsi. It was light and delicate, nothing like the strong, earthy tea Alehk had given her and she’d been drinking from arrival. And it definitely didn’t have the same floral scent.
“Dr. Bata, do you know anything about the effects of the eng plant on the human body when ingested in high doses?”
“Not particularly,” the doctor said. “It’s just part of our local culture. It has been used medicinally in the past, but most of those effects were considered to be psychosomatic.”
Likotsi cut in. “I don’t know much, but I do remember my grandmother always telling us to be careful that the balance of ingredients in the tea was right because just because something is natural doesn’t mean it is safe. ‘Less is more, and more can kill you’ she’d always say.”
Ledi nodded. “I’m guessing that my throwing up was caused by an overdose, of sorts. Most people here would have trace amounts built up in their bodies from everyday or occasional tea drinking, making the sickness more gradual. Because my body expelled the poison all over the queen’s shoes, my eng overdose wore off comparatively quickly.” Ledi looked at Thabiso as the idea in her head expanded and branched out into more sinister corners of her mind.
“Thabiso . . .”
“I’m guessing you don’t suspect that this was just a bad batch of tea,” he said gravely.
She shook her head. “Sesi said she was giving my grandparents a special blend provided by my uncle. And do you remember how Nya bundled me out of the house when he came in with the tea? That wasn’t the first time.”
Nya had given her vitamins, told her to take them every day. But Ledi had forgotten for the last couple of days, though she hadn’t forgotten to drink her tea.
Thabiso’s eyes widened. “You think your uncle is a fuckboy?”
She nodded. “And if what I think is correct, his case isn’t curable.”
He stood. “Likotsi. We must keep this quiet to prevent unrest, but please have Alehk Jarami brought in for immediate questioning.”
Chapter 33
Two weeks later
The Thesoloian justice system was confusing, but it moved quickly.
Apparently, Lek Hemane sat on a valuable plot of land; it was the single most coltan-rich part of Thesolo. Alehk’s talk of bringing Lek Hemane into the future had actually been a plan to destroy it by an insidious method—sickening several people and making it seem that the land was unfit to live on. The Prince’s plague had been a detour in that plan, one that helped bolster his popularity amongst his fellow villagers before he planned to reveal the “true” source of their illness: the coltan that the selfish prince was refusing to dig up and get rid of.
Alehk’s arrest, his poisoning of Ledi and others, all of it, should have made her even more doubtful about the human race. But her cousin Nya had come to the hospital and broken down into pitiful tears when she realized her attempt at stopping her father hadn’t worked, and Ledi couldn’t be angry at her.
“He is a man who creates grudges from nothing and holds on to them tightly,” Nya said as they walked around the hospital greenhouse, safe from the cold. Ledi was better, and the other victims were recovering, but Nya had worried herself sick, literally. Her room was next to Annie and Makalele’s, making visiting convenient for Ledi. “Your parents left years ago, and he still got so angry every time our grandparents spoke fondly of your mother. He felt that she’d gotten something he hadn’t, and he never forgave her.”
“What was that?” Ledi asked. “What could she have access to that he didn’t?”
“You, my cousin,” Nya said sadly. “And through you, power. We were born not far apart, but the Priestesses chose you instead of me to be the prince’s betrothed. He had already lost my mother, and I suppose he felt deprived of something that was owed to him for that great loss. He loved her. He loves me too, in his own way.”
Ledi rubbed her cousin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. It must be so painful for you, even though you’re free of him now.”
Nya smiled. “I don’t think one can ever be free of their parents. I am sad, but then I remember that you have come into my life and I think this was a more than fair trade.”
Her face warmed.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Nya said sadly.
Ledi cleared her throat. In the weeks since her sickness, she’d been gathering data and trying to shore up the thesis she was writing about the experience, combining the fields of infectious disease, sociological epidemiology, and the degree in law she’d unofficially received after watching too many marathons of Law & Order.
Thabiso had been extremely busy, too. He’d been charged with monitoring the investigation and searching out any other possible crimes committed by Alehk that could have endangered the people of Thesolo. He was also tracking Alehk’s connections to companies that had been rejected flat out in their overtures to the Thesoloian government. Her uncle’s email server had been loaded with shady deals and unauthorized interactions, meaning lots of work for Thabiso and little time for each other. He hadn’t been kidding when he said being a prince wasn’t all fun and games.
“I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer,” Ledi said. “New York can be much too hot in the summer.”
Yes, that was what she was worried about.
“But you should come visit me.”
“I like heat,” Nya said as they walked back into the hospital’s main building. “I want to try these bagels you keep talking about. And a slice of pizza.”
“Oh my god. I’ll take you to my favorite pizza place and you just might refuse to come back to Thesolo,” Ledi said. “And there’s this bagel store in Williamsburg. We’ll do a food tour!”
Nya looked wistful. “Now that I am the daughter of a fraud and a criminal, perhaps leaving forever is not a bad choice.”
Ledi threw an arm around her cousin. Spontaneous hugs were much easier when you were sure they wouldn’t be rejected. She said what she wished someone had told her over the years. “If you need me, I’m here, okay? We’re family, and not just because we’re cousins. I mean, technically yes, but I like you for reasons outside of our shared DNA.”
Nya nodded, swiping at her tears.
“And Portia likes you, too. She posted a photo of you on her InstaPhoto, hashtagged ‘#frand’ and I’m usually the only one who gets that treatment.”
She left Nya near the entrance to the hospital and walked back to her suite alone. The staff, no longer strangers, waved at her and nodded encouragingly when she spoke her clipped Thesoloian greetings. A peacock with droopy feathers that she’d named Thurston kept pace with her for a moment before heading back to the garden. She was going to miss living in the palace, and not just because she didn’t have to do dishes.
She was going to miss Thabiso.
But they hadn’t spoken about the future, and she wasn’t even sure what she wanted. Was she still betrothed to him? Did she want to be? After all, they’d never even gone out on a full date. She wasn’t even sure if he was the kind of person who asked loud, annoying questions throughout a movie, although she’d heard there was a cinema in the palace somewhere. If she could confirm his boorish in-movie behavior before she left, she would feel a little better about saying good-bye. Or maybe he’d do naughty things to her in the dark theater. She’d be down with that as an alternative.
“Naledi?”
The voice from inside the library made her stiffen. The queen had been nicer to her since she’d gotten sick, but she was still unsure about the woman. Despite that, she followed the sound of her voice into the room. She found Queen Ramatla staring up at that picture of Ledi and Thabiso at their betrothal ceremony. Her eyes weren’t on the toddlers in the picture, but on herself and Ledi’s mom in the background.
&n
bsp; “Have the royal taste testers been doing their job?” the queen asked.
“Yes,” Ledi replied. “Though I think the threat has passed. I do appreciate it, Your Highness.”
“I would like to offer a formal apology,” the queen said suddenly, drawing herself up. “I was wrong to be so cold to you, but—” She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, and when she opened them and looked at Ledi, there was a depth of emotion Ledi hadn’t seen there before. “You resemble her so much. And she hurt me so badly. Every time I looked at you, or heard your voice, I felt that pain anew. I think . . . I know that I took my anger out on you. And that was unfair, and beneath both of us. I hope we can start over. Or rather, I would like to get to know you instead of trying to punish you for something you didn’t do.”
Ledi was still wary, but she glanced at the photo, at her mother and the queen laughing that special kind of friend laughter, and then back to the barely repressed pain on the queen’s face.
“It’s hard losing a friend,” Ledi said quietly. “If it’s your significant other, you’re allowed to grieve. But people act like best friends are a dime a dozen, and if you lose one you can just replace them with another.”
The queen nodded, her mouth pulling into a tight line. “I have never replaced Libi. After we lost Nya’s mother, she was my sole support. I thought we were each other’s support. And when I found out she’d left”—the queen shook her head—“I’d never felt such pain. When Thabiso told me that you had been found, for a moment I was so relieved. And then he told me the rest of the news . . .”
The queen looked away suddenly, but Ledi caught the tremble of her mouth and the way she sucked in a breath on a sob. Ledi had begun to mourn her parents anew, but she hadn’t known her mother as the queen had known her. She tried to imagine what she would do if anything happened to Portia, and the hypothetical alone made her tear up.
She reached a hand out, tentatively, and placed it on the queen’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry. I wish you could have seen her again.”
The queen nodded and cleared her throat. “Well. I will serve her memory better in my behavior toward you. And even if I did not get to meet her again . . . Ingoka makes no mistakes, Naledi Ajoua. I am glad you have returned, and Libi would be so proud of what you have become.”
It was Ledi’s turn to fight emotion then. Many people had said the same, but they hadn’t known her mother as the queen had. And though the queen had apologized, she wasn’t the type to lie to make someone feel better.
When she looked at the queen again, the emotion was gone from her eyes and her expression was smooth, regal. “Before you leave, we will have a memorial ceremony for them in the temple.”
“Thank you.” Ledi didn’t know what else to say so she took a deep breath and headed back to her room. She was sure she wouldn’t always see eye to eye with the queen, but she felt as if something had been mended between them. She hoped something had been mended within the queen as well.
When she got to her suite, the door was cracked. She pushed it open and found Thabiso stretched out on her bed, fast asleep. She quietly shut the door and approached him, smiling at the contrast between his ungainly sprawl and the sleek suit he wore.
She climbed onto the bed beside him and into the space created by his outhrown arm.
“Now I know what the baby bear felt like when it found Goldilocks in its bed,” she said.
He smiled and his eyes slowly opened. “I thought you didn’t like fairy tales.”
“I don’t. Goldilocks was a brazen home invasion artist.” Ledi snuggled closer. “But I guess since you’re the prince and all, I’ll make an exception.”
“I don’t mind being an exception, as long as I get to wake up to this,” Thabiso replied, hugging her close. “I did come here for a reason, though. Something was found in your uncle’s papers. For a man with his fingers in so many nasty pies, he was something of a hoarder.”
He sat up and Ledi mimicked his movement, staying on the bed while he walked over to the desk and brought over a ragged edged piece of paper enclosed in a plastic pouch. It was old, but not ancient, and the messy handwriting on it was scarily similar to her own.
“This was found between the pages of a book in his library,” Thabiso said, settling beside her.
We will do as you say. I wish my own brother was not my enemy, but I cannot promise what you ask. I cannot risk my child’s life for something so fleeting as money or power. I will pray for your soul, and for ours.
Ledi wasn’t exactly sure what the note meant.
“Was he going to kill me?” she asked.
“It appears he had some mad plan that your parents refused to take part in. Something that made them feel it was safer to flee with you than to stay. He refuses to tell us, but I thought you should know this.”
Her uncle had driven her mother away. He’d hated his own sister so much that he’d allowed it to consume him. Or maybe he’d loved Nya and her mother so much that it was love that had consumed him in the end. It was frightening, what the emotion could do to you once it had you in its grip.
She took the little note and placed it on the bedside table, then stared down at her hands.
“Ledi?” Thabiso looked worried. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes,” she said. She looked at him, examined that perfect face that made her want to hold him and protect him and, occasionally, kick him in the shin. “I think I might love you. Maybe.”
“What?”
“I know. It’s crazy, huh? I wouldn’t mention it, but if I’m going to leave soon, I guess I should tell you.” She waited for him to laugh, or to jump up and run away—after all, he didn’t need her anymore. He was a hero to the masses at the moment, no bride necessary.
“Hmm. The thing is, I have some business to attend to in New York,” he said, stroking his beard in the way he did when he was mulling something over. “I was thinking that since you were going to leave soon, I could go back with you. Crazy, as you were saying, huh?”
Ledi’s heart started to beat faster, harder.
“What kind of business?”
“Well, there’s always something to be done in New York when you’re a prince.” He pulled her into his lap and she wrapped her legs around him. “What was it you mentioned before? Riding horses and strip poker?”
“Horses? D’artagnan will be jealous.”
“He gave me his blessing,” Thabiso said. “That means I’m holding out on one more. Two.”
Ledi was confused, then she laughed. “The Grams are very protective of their space.” She leaned into him. They were chest to chest and his heart was beating fast, too.
“I won’t invade the Grams’ space, but I really think they’ll like the view from the brownstone Likotsi picked out for me, so I’ll win them over eventually. It’s no brick wall view, but Central Park is lovely in the autumn.”
“It is,” Ledi agreed, resting her forehead against his. His arms encircled her, with his hands cupped at the base of her spine, holding her close to him.
“Maybe, if they like me enough, they’d consider coming to Thesolo at some point in the future?” he asked.
Ledi closed her eyes. “Is there such a thing as being happily freaked out? Because that’s what I’m feeling right now.”
Thabiso laughed. “I’m pretty sure I prefer that to ‘happily ever after.’ Way less pressure.”
“Oh, there’s a ton of pressure, Bones,” she said, mimicking his accent.
He sighed. “I’ll never live that down, will I?”
“Let’s find out,” she said.
He kissed her then, more sweetly than he ever had. Ledi held him tight and wondered if their new home would have a washer and dryer. After all, she was kissing living proof that even her wildest dreams could come true.
An Excerpt from A Duke by Default
Keep reading for a sneak peek
at the next book in the Reluctant Royals series
A Duke
by Default
Coming Summer 2018!
Chapter 1
Project: New Portia was off to a fantastic start.
Old Portia was no stranger to hopping in cabs at the break of dawn, bleary-eyed and disheveled, but in the past she’d generally been hungover and making a hasty exit from her fuckboy of the night’s bed.
New Portia was stone-cold sober, as she had been for months, halfway across the world from her usual New York City stomping grounds and entirely pissed.
She pulled her hair back out of her face, slipping the scrunchie she wore around her wrist over the mass of thick, kinky curls to secure them. She glanced out of the window, taking in the gated storefronts nestled in the incongruously beautiful old buildings of Edinburgh’s Royal Mile. In the back of her mind, she noted the different architectural styles and probable time periods the buildings had been built in—her master’s in art history and string of internships actually hadn’t just been a way of putting off responsibility, despite what her family thought, or hadn’t just been that—but she had more pressing problems than discerning between marble and gold leaf and Victorian or Georgian.
She checked her phone again—no new calls, no new messages, and a shitload of social media notifications. The latter was the norm, the first two were a problem.
Next, she checked the website of her destination, the ugly fonts and terribly formatted photos giving her hives as she searched for and verified the phone number. The website was at the top of her “oh honey, no” to-do list for Bodotria Armory that she’d compiled since her application for apprenticeship had been chosen. She was a walking “oh honey, no” to-do list herself, but one step at a time.
She winced at the trite cliché—too many self-help books, or maybe her therapist, Dr. Lewis, was finally rubbing off on her.
Six months in Scotland? This apprenticeship sounds like exciting wonderful opportunity. You should be proud. Can you tell me a bit more about what you hope to get out of it? Moving to Scotland is exciting, but also a huge change. You’ve talked about the urge to run away before . . .
