A Princess in Theory (Reluctant Royals #1)(84)

“What about me?” He leaned up away from the pillow, and her eyes fluttered open. Her gaze ran over his face and the pain and confusion he saw there lanced through him.

“This isn’t real.” She motioned to the air between them. “But it’s starting to feel way too real and . . . I can’t. I just can’t.”

“And what if it feels real to me, too?” he asked quietly. “What if it feels real because it is?”

His heart thumped heavy in his chest, because yes, that was it. It was real for him, always had been, and she might never feel the same way.

She shook her head. “The only reason you think we should be together is because you were told we should be, and now you need a wife. Let’s say I agree that this is real. What then? One day you’ll realize what everyone does eventually.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

Thabiso’s frustration pushed him up to a sitting position.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I like you? You. Naledi. And that I would have liked you even if there was no betrothal ceremony?”

“No, it hasn’t,” she said stiffly.

He thought back to her comment from their previous conversation and was struck by something. “This is the Velcro thing, isn’t it? The not sticking? Ledi, if you haven’t noticed, let me tell you, I’m stuck. Intractably so.”

“Enough, Thabiso.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Why? Would us being together really be the most terrible thing to happen to you?”

“No, being left parentless in a foreign country was the worst thing to happen to me,” she said. Her expression closed off again.

“Ledi.” He pitched his voice gentle, trying to ease in between the bricks of the wall she was rapidly rebuilding.

She looked at him, expressionless. “It’s funny that you resented me for abandoning you. You with your family and servants and people. Meanwhile, halfway across the globe, I was the one who was alone.” She swiped at her eyes. “You should have told me. The minute you knew that I had no idea who I was, you should have told me. But you didn’t. So no, I can’t say yes when you come to my door all handsome and Disney-eyed, asking if you can kiss me.”

There it was. Thabiso had been so fixated on forcing her to forget he’d lied about Jamal that he’d missed the forest for the trees. He’d done more than that; he’d lied to Ledi about herself. Likotsi had called him a coward and she had been right.

He exhaled, a deep weary sound. “What can I say? I’m sorry for being a fuckboy, Naledi.”

Ledi shrugged, swiped surreptitiously at her eyes again. “Fuckboyism is a fairly common disease in men aged eighteen to thirty-five.”

“What’s the cure?” he asked.

“You’ll have to ask your doctor about that. But I can tell you right now that it’s not me.”

With that, she got up and walked back to her desk.

Thabiso fought the urge to stalk over and command her to forgive him; she wasn’t one of his subjects. He headed for the door.

“We have the trip to Lek Hemone, your hometown, tomorrow morning. Dress warmly because it’s at a higher altitude.”

“Thanks. Hopefully we’ll find what we’re looking for there because nothing in the research is giving any clues as to what’s going on here. I need to figure this out.”

So you can go.

“May the goddess make it so,” he said, and then walked back into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Thabiso stood for a moment. Although he’d been told otherwise his entire life, he was learning that there was something stronger than a Moshoeshoe prince’s will.

Reality.





Chapter 29


Ledi thought daily subway commutes had prepared her to handle any means of transportation, but she’d been mistaken.

She readjusted herself on D’artagnan—the donkey that was conveying her to Lek Hemane—as it ambled up the winding mountain trail at a slow, steady pace, and prayed that the animal didn’t make any sudden moves. It was super cute, and had looked at her like she was its best friend after she gave it some apple slices, but she couldn’t quite get with transportation that could also take a bite out of her.

When the Land Rover carrying her and Thabiso to Lek Hemane had stopped at the base of a winding trail where a few goat herdsmen awaited with their flock, Ledi had thought it was a cultural break, not the next leg of their journey. She’d tentatively fed some goats and chatted with a shepherd. She’d even felt a spark of adventure when she was hoisted onto D’artagnan, that is, until Thabiso had climbed on behind her. An hour riding a donkey up steep, mountainous terrain surrounded by goats was jarring enough—goats were way chattier than she’d realized—but having Thabiso settled in behind her was even more disorienting.

Their conversation the previous evening had left her unsettled. She wanted so badly to believe what he’d said. But he had lied before. Could she really trust him?

“Doing okay?” he asked from behind her.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have taken a helicopter up here,” she said, then shivered as a cold blast of wind swept across the exposed skin of her face.

“Because the mountain winds are too strong to ensure a safe landing,” he said. “This is the safest route.”