was prepared to leap up. He inhaled deeply as Shanti watched, and his lips parted as if to speak—yes! Finally, he would put Musoke in his place.
Musoke thumped the end of his cane against the floor. “What’s next? We don’t have all day.”
Sanyu pressed his lips together, but remained silent and staring into the distance, and Shanti’s fists clenched in the starched fabric of her robe. To have so much power and sit idly by . . . the unfairness of it threatened to crush her. His indifference to her was painful, but his indifference to his kingdom’s well-being was inexcusable.
She’d expected him to be strong-willed and domineering in all aspects of his life, given their first meeting, but he spoke at council meetings as much as he spoke to her. It was like the man she’d first met, the one who’d tried to intimidate her into walking away from her goal, had been someone else entirely.
Lumu, the man a few years younger than the king he served, cleared his throat and waved his hand to bring attention his way. Lumu was one of two people in the palace who paid attention to Shanti’s comfort—and the only one who ever pushed back against Musoke, however politely.
“I’d like to bring back a topic that has been tabled several times but I feel is critical for us to review,” he said. “The advocacy group Njaza Rise Up has requested—”
“Denied,” Musoke cut Lumu off, his voice laced with disdainful laughter that crushed Shanti’s hopes even more compactly. “I’ve seen the scheisse they spout. Feminism. Equality. It is surely the result of outsiders poisoning their minds and trying to undermine the strength of our kingdom. Imagine, requesting that women be admitted to the ranks of royal advisor? Women, who cannot even be touched by Amageez? That would be like having a house cat presume to instruct the cheetahs.”
Shanti’s face was burning and she wasn’t sure her expression of placid restraint was still in place; she hoped the advisors would continue their unbroken streak of never looking at her. She hoped her husband wouldn’t.
“Cheetahs and house cats get along quite well in certain environments. Besides that, there are women in our military and always have been,” Lumu pressed. “You fought side by side with them to win the freedom of the kingdom. Njaza’s first q—”
“I said denied, lesser advisor!” Musoke almost shouted, his usual restrained demeanor slipping into unhidden anger.
Lumu dropped his gaze as he gave a sharp nod.
“Denied,” the council repeated as one.
“Today’s final proposal is a request to discuss our participation in the Rail Pan Afrique, a project being undertaken by the United African Nations. We have been formally invited to join both the project and the UAN by the Kingdom of Thesolo,” one of the council said, moving on quickly as if nothing had happened. Shanti’s heart swelled with both homesickness and pride at her kingdom’s name—so many countries had given up on Njaza, frustrated with their king’s stubbornness, but Queen Ramatla wasn’t a quitter despite being rebuffed for the entirety of her reign.
Musoke’s gaze moved the barest millimeter in her direction, and when he spoke, his voice was louder, sure to reach the back of the room where she sat. “Denied. We will not discuss any proposal that requires working with Thesolo.”
“Why, O wise one?” Lumu was speaking again, despite his chastisement, instead of the person who should be asking questions. “They have an excellent track record of working with other nations, the UAN is running more smoothly than it ever has, and every surrounding country is participating.”
“If we do not join in the construction of Rail Pan Afrique, the UAN will build right along the outside of our border,” Nakali, the transportation minister said. It was the first time Shanti had ever heard the old man speak apart from his role in the councilor chorus, and there was clear frustration in his voice. “The project will bring work in many sectors—construction, business, tourism, and hospitality. If we do not participate, we will be able to look across that border into neighboring countries as they thrive and see what might have been. Perhaps working with them on this would be acceptable.”
“Thesolo is a weak country,” Musoke said, lifting a hand from the head of his cane as if waving away the common sense the minister was speaking. “Their king is unable to control his queen and their prince is cowed by a foreign wife who shares the same silly ideas as