How to Catch a Queen (Runaway Royals #1) - Alyssa Cole Page 0,19

and doesn’t give me license to go after every attractive person I happen to be friends with. Do not pick and choose which of our traditions are worthy of respect, my king.”

Attractive? Friends?

Sanyu reminded himself that he shouldn’t be rude to his friend over passing jealousy for a passing wife, but didn’t apologize. He returned to the more mundane issue.

“I thought you fixed the problem with her treatment at the library.”

Lumu’s shoulders dropped a bit. “The archivists and librarians were reprimanded. Most of them are fine, but a couple of the older ones are reticent given the history of Njazan queens and the impending end of the wedding trial. Much like our great and honorable king, they see no reason to be kind to someone who will be leaving soon anyway.”

Sanyu’s jaw tightened. “Thank you for the report.”

Lumu took a deep breath, as if he were about to push against a heavy door that he already knew was rusted shut. “And about that. I need to know officially whether it will be a divorce dinner or a continuation ceremony so I can begin preparations. Certainly, by now you’ve decided—”

“Thank. You.” Sanyu pushed some of the papers around on the desk, needing an outlet for the sudden surge of frustration. He hadn’t asked to be married, hadn’t ever wanted to tie some stranger’s life to his own, but now he was supposed to handle the divorce? He didn’t understand why this was on him—or why the thought of Shanti leaving didn’t please him when it meant he’d finally be able to have a little peace in the palace.

When she was gone, he wouldn’t have to worry about the way his eyes always sought her out against his own wishes and his hands balled into fists to prevent him from reaching out to her. Even if he held her once, she wouldn’t stay. Couldn’t.

Could she?

No.

“You may leave.” He waved his hand dismissively in Lumu’s direction and resettled himself in his seat. Odd, it had always seemed so large in the past, but it was a tight fit for him.

Lumu smiled widely, and turned to go to his own office.

“And change into palace dress before Musoke sees you!” Sanyu called out grumpily.

“My clothing is within royal regulations,” Lumu stopped and called back over his shoulder. “Musoke can either ask you to change the regulations, or he can realize that his preferences aren’t law. After all you are king.”

Sanyu sighed. “You keep reminding me of that.”

“It’s my job to remind you of the tasks you might forget,” Lumu said, his voice somber. “And I should warn you that my reminders are much gentler than those of the people in the street who are growing uneasy with Musoke’s apparent power. Unease leads to questions, and if you don’t answer them, someone else will.”

He left before Sanyu could press him further. Lumu wouldn’t say something so serious without having given it a lot of thought—he, too, was said to be touched by Amageez the Wise—which meant things were more dire than Sanyu’d imagined, with both his country and with his wife.

He stood to go find the man who made his royal duties both too easy and much too difficult.

As he walked through the palace, trailed by the palace guards, he averted his gaze from the peeling frescoes on the ceilings and walls—Omakuumi’s Rebellion done in Renaissance style, with their great warrior god flaking off bit by bit as if he, too, was trying to abandon this place. The frescoes were one of many signs of decaying decadence and reminders of the other rumbles of his subjects in the capital and beyond, or so he’d heard. People wanted to know why there were few jobs and fewer funds while the king lived in a palace decked in gold.

It was a good question, and one that Sanyu had always been afraid to ask, but would soon have to answer.

He left his guards at the door to the Office of the Royal Advisor and found Musoke sitting in a chair on the balcony. The outdoor space that provided a view of the capital, and served as a security risk, was an impractical addition to the space of a man who was in charge of so many important things in the kingdom, but Sanyu had found his father and Musoke speaking out here more afternoons than not, flanked by guards.

Now Musoke sat alone, staring off into the distance, and it struck Sanyu that the man was old. Not as old