to make guillotine jokes—New Njaza had been built on the fault lines of civil war, and people first joked about things that they feared.
His citizens needed to have faith in him, and he didn’t yet have faith in himself.
Three weeks, she thought, then leaned up, punched the pillow a few times, and forced herself into sleep.
Chapter 6
Sanyu knocked on Shanti’s door a bit earlier than usual the evening of the sixth meeting, the finance minister’s folder tucked beneath his arm. Lumu had offered to go over the paperwork with him, which was his job as advisor, but Sanyu had sent him a digital copy and told him they could look it over in the morning. Lumu had been more than happy to return home to his spouses, and Sanyu had sent a message to Musoke that he’d be working through dinner.
Then he’d carried the folder to Shanti’s chambers, where she’d spent dinnertime since the goat stew incident, and knocked on the door. He wondered if she was eating enough. She seemed too practical not to, but maybe he would order something from the palace kitchen—
Why isn’t she answering?
He knocked again. And again. She usually came to the door immediately, and the odd sensation-that-wasn’t-allowed-to-be-fear churned in his stomach. He could easily kick the door in—well, not easily, but more easily than a person with average human-sized legs. Sanyu had trained like the weight of his kingdom was on his shoulders, biceps, thighs, and calves since he was very young, but breaking down the door would make him look like the caricatures of Njazans that had proliferated in international newspapers after independence.
“Do you need something, Your Highness?” The nosy guardswoman had returned.
“My wife,” he said. “Did you see her leave?”
Kenyatta’s eyes darted back and forth. “No. She might be taking a nap. Or in the bath. She sometimes puts on music and soaks in this nice floral-scented bath oil.”
Sanyu glared down at the guard. “And you know this because?”
Kenyatta blinked a few times. “She gave me some to take home, Your Highness. It smells very good.”
Sanyu continued to glare at her, and knocked again.
Kenyatta grimaced and then leaned closer to Sanyu. “If she is . . . indisposed, your knocking will embarrass her. Perhaps you should give her a few moments?”
“Oh. Right.” He pulled his hand away from the door.
His phone vibrated then, and when he glared at the lock screen there was a notification from his text app:
You have been added to the group: Relaxing LoFi Royal Beats
He tapped on the notification in annoyance and saw a message from von Braustein.
Johan : Oh scheisse. Sorry, Sanyu. I accidentally added you to this very cool group of people who incidentally are all royals. I was trying to share the coronation remix of “Sanyu II Is Our Future” and must have pulled up your @ by accident. You might as well stay, right?
Prince Thabiso: Hello, Sanyu. It’s been ages! The remix of your song slaps, as the children say.
Panic welled in Sanyu’s chest and he began tapping the screen, searching for an escape from the group.
Prince Anzam K: Sanyu! Hello, brother!
Sanyu paused. Anzam was in the group, and he’d been meaning to contact him. That meant it probably couldn’t be too bad—while Anzam was very into his role as the Sun Prince, he didn’t willingly spend time with bad people. He was kind, and his friendship had been a sign that maybe Sanyu was worth something other than being his father’s son.
Still, Anzam or no, this was like the electronic version of having the spotlight turned on him. What should he say? What was the proper response to their welcome? If he said the wrong thing he’d look like a fool in front of these men, his political contemporaries. In front of Thabiso, the suave perfect prince everyone compared him to.
Sweat beaded at his hairline. He tapped at the keypad on the screen and hit Send before he changed his mind.
Sanyu:
Sanyu: No
Sanyu: Wait
Sanyu: My fingers are large and I hit the wrong emoji
Sanyu:
Johan :
Prince Thabiso: Best chat entrance ever!
Prince Anzam K: We won’t judge you here. We’re all friends.
Tav Mac: I feel your pain, mate. Johan also “accidentally” added me to the group and I would’ve used a middle finger emoji except I don’t know where to find them on this hingmie.
Sanyu watched the conversation continue without him. Tav Mac, who he assumed was the Duke of Edinburgh, Tavish McKenzie, was being shown how to use emojis by his girlfriend and began spamming