How to Catch a Queen (Runaway Royals #1) - Alyssa Cole Page 0,18
to find her in his first wife?
“I set up the archive position when you said it seemed that she was bored,” Sanyu said. “Now you tell me the work isn’t important?”
Sanyu had arranged for her to help with the digitization of various texts because it was clear that Shanti enjoyed reading and learning. She went through newspapers, magazines, and books voraciously, and not just the silly tabloids filled with tales of royal conquest that Sanyu flipped through when he was bored. There was no reason she shouldn’t enjoy working at the library—his father’s wives hadn’t had their likes and dislikes taken into consideration when assigned work.
“You could have asked her what she wanted to do if you’d just—what was it I was saying? Oh right. Talk. To. Your. Wife.” Lumu gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you need an icebreaker? After this morning’s meeting, you can start by asking her what it feels like to stand up to Musoke since you won’t listen when I tell you how satisfying it is.”
“Her behavior was . . .” Magnificent, Sanyu thought. “Inappropriate,” he said.
“Inappropriate? So you think the current state of the kingdom is appropriate?”
One reason he’d chosen Lumu as his personal advisor was that he knew he wouldn’t be an accommodating yes-man. Sometimes, though, his friend went too far.
“Proceed with the report or I’ll make you give me a firsthand memo on the state of Njaza’s sewer system.”
“My apologies.” Lumu sighed deeply. “I know things are . . . complicated with Musoke. With the kingdom. And with her. Though maybe not, since you have me following her around every day and giving you detailed accounts of her activities.”
“That’s for security reasons,” Sanyu said. “She’ll be gone soon. Nothing complicated about that.”
Lumu lifted a brow. “I know you don’t have the best view of marriage, Sanyu, but—”
“King Sanyu.” The three syllables were clipped, harsh, and a reminder that their friendship now butted up against the fact that Sanyu was royalty and would occasionally demand to be treated like it.
Lumu’s mouth twitched in a familiar expression of annoyance, then he took a deep breath and pulled himself into the formal comportment of a royal advisor.
“Today’s report, O magnanimous, wise, fierce, and all-knowing King Sanyu!” he boomed, then pretended to read off of the papers in his hand. “Madame Highness, she who will be gone very soon and is definitely NOT complicated, has . . .” Lumu squinted at the paper. “. . . spent the entire day in her room. She rejected the housekeeping staff’s attempt to clean and also the lunch I brought her.”
“That’s it?” Sanyu asked, a strange unease spreading over him. He’d dismissed her earlier—to spare her from Musoke’s wrath. Was she upset? She’d been so . . . fierce. While he’d been grinding his teeth through the sessions, she’d clearly been paying attention and coming up with opinions—plans.
No one cared for the plans of a queen.
“That’s it,” Lumu said.
“She didn’t go to work?” Sanyu asked. That was unusual.
“She did not.” Lumu shrugged. “She will also not be joining us for dinner. Again.”
An unsettling sensation much too similar to worry made Sanyu’s stomach clench, but the king did not worry over his wife. It would be silly, like worrying over a robe pin.
He popped another antacid.
“Is she ill?” he asked. Would she even tell him? Or anyone? His father’s final queen had almost suffered a burst appendix because she hadn’t wanted to reveal any weakness. It’d only been caught in time because she’d passed out from the pain.
“Ill? She says she is,” Lumu said.
“Then why didn’t you start the report with that!” Pain frilled through his stomach and he resisted the urge to press his hand to it.
Lumu didn’t even flinch. “Because she’s not actually ill.”
“She’s a liar, then?”
“No. We have a rapport where she can tell me a half-truth and I can understand what she really means. If she says, ‘I’m not feeling well,’ I know to ask if that means she’s sick of Josiane, the head of the archives. When she raises her brows and looks away with a small smile, I understand that she’s taking a mental health day.”
A feeling sharp and ugly and bright green burned through the remnants of the fog that had surrounded Sanyu for the last few months.
“You seem very close to my wife.”
“That’s a matter of perspective. Anyone would seem close given your distance from her,” Lumu responded tartly. “And I will remind you that the triad marriage is complete in itself, sacrosanct,