A Princess in Theory (Reluctant Royals #1)(83)

She stared at him for a long while, and then shook her head sadly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have indulged you when you were a child who insisted she and her parents would return.”

“Why? I was right. She’s here now.”

The queen’s gaze sharpened. “Are you willing to gamble the future of our country on whatever game it is you’re playing?”

“This is not a game.” He exhaled through flared nostrils. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to discuss this further. You’ve raised me to be a man who does not give up on what he believes in. I can’t begin to figure out why you’re set against Naledi, but my choice is made.”

“Is hers?” the queen pressed.

Thabiso had no response that wasn’t a lie, and he was done with lying.

“I have things to attend to,” he said.

She nodded. “Your father and I have pressured you, but you know we only want what is best for you, right? You must know that.”

Thabiso couldn’t stand the sight of the uncertainty in his mother’s face. He leaned down and pulled her into a hug.

“I know you do, mother. But you’re going to have to trust me here.”

“I trust you. It’s her I’m worried about.” She pulled her head back to look him in the face, concern etched into her expression. “Thabiso, you have never truly experienced loss. Loving someone, letting them into your heart, and then losing them, or worse, being betrayed? It’s something we must all face at some point, but if I can prevent you from being hurt unnecessarily, I will.” She turned on her heels, clicking her way back in the direction she’d come from.

Thabiso looked after his mother. She had always been protective, and perhaps indulgent, but had never coddled him. His mother had always been particularly incensed by the betrayal of the Ajouas, but he’d thought that would fade once she knew that they had died, and perhaps would have returned. He had been wrong.

He made his way to Naledi’s room, his mother’s words echoing in his head. When he’d been kneeling down before Naledi during the ceremony, the first time he’d so abased himself before anyone, something had clicked for Thabiso. He couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t. He wanted her, not out of some twisted nostalgia or because she wasn’t a prize easily won, but because she was perfect for him and—perhaps just as important—perfect for his people. She pushed him to try harder, just through her own example. What could they do together as husband and wife—king and queen?

His mother was right, though. No matter what he wanted, she wasn’t planning to stay, and he wasn’t selfish enough to hope that the medical crisis lasted long enough to keep her in his kingdom. He imagined her getting back on the plane to leave and his frustration grew again. Could he really just let her leave? Could he let another moment pass in which she thought he didn’t care if she did?

His mind was racing by the time he’d made his way down the damned interminably long hallway and reached her room.

“Naledi.”

He knocked hard, and she opened the door with the general look of annoyance she seemed to reserve for him.

“I’m busy, so unless there’s an emergency—”

“I think this counts as an emergency.”

His hands went to her waist, fingertips sinking into her curves as he pulled her toward him. He dropped his head, angling for her lips, but stopped just before their mouths touched, resting his forehead against hers.

“Can I?” he asked. He wasn’t going to kiss her into submission. He had already submitted to the force that drew him to her—he could only ask her to join him willingly.

“Um.” Her breath was coming fast and she hadn’t pulled away, but she looked ready to bolt. “This is novel. Guys don’t usually ask after the first time.”

Frustration tautened within him.

“I’m a fucking gentleman, Naledi. Gentlemen don’t assume, they ask. So. Can I kiss you?”

“Wow. No pressure at all,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, there’s a ton of pressure,” he said, and realized how ridiculous the line sounded without the part he’d left unspoken. In my pants. He wasn’t entirely a gentleman.

Ledi huffed a breath. “In your pants?” she asked.

The tension between them deflated, pierced by the sharp laughter that burst from them both. He let his head fall back, away from hers, but his hands still rested on her hips.

“Goddess. And to think I was once voted World’s Smoothest Royal.” He shook his head.

“Wait, people vote on these things?”

He dropped his hands from her waist, walked over to her bed, and flopped down on it.

“Well, luckily for me it’s usually a group of strangers who’ve never heard my attempts at seduction.”

“Obviously.” The door clicked shut.

“No need to agree so heartily,” he muttered.

“I needed that laugh,” she said with a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Today has been really intense. I’ve barely slept, I’ve been reading case studies all day, and that ceremony really fucked me up. Emotionally.”

“You’re not the only one,” he said, folding her pillow beneath his head so he was propped up and looking at her.

“I grew up with no one, Thabiso. No one. And now?” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to take in what happened today, or what I’m feeling. It’s just too much. Priestesses singing to me. Welcoming me. People bowing to me.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “And you. There’s you.”