attached to home always pulled me back. At the same time, I know it’s an honor and a privilege. I shouldn’t complain.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” she asked. “Let me tell you, it’s an honor to be queen, but I’ve regretted agreeing to the Royal Match request. On days when I was so lonely here, when I felt like a failure, I wondered if I deserved it because it had been my choice to come here and marry a stranger. But the answer is no. And it will always be no. No one deserves to be treated badly for choosing to have faith in something or someone, or for expecting better. Not their father, their husband, their kingdom—or themselves. Complaining is fine and natural.”
She had that fierce look on her face again.
“You always say things in a way that makes me think I can believe you,” he said. “You were clearly meant for politics.”
“No. I was meant to be a queen. There’s a difference.”
She held his gaze until he looked away from the hope that he saw in those deep brown depths.
“I don’t know why I’m even telling you all this. What I felt doesn’t matter because I can’t leave, and you’ll—”
He inhaled sharply instead of continuing his thought. She’d be glad to leave this place.
“I hope you’re telling me because we’re a team,” she said, pulling out some lip balm to smooth over her lips.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching the glistening slide of the gloss over her plump bottom lip. “You don’t need me on your team. You’re beautiful, brilliant, and you can beat a man with his own weapon. What purpose do I serve to you, or my people for that matter, besides a crown?”
She shrugged as she tucked the balm away. “I can’t tell you that. I’m not the goddess, to set you on your path. You decide what your purpose is.”
Sanyu laughed darkly. “I wish Musoke felt the same way.”
“Musoke is just a man, too, despite our joke,” she said. “He doesn’t decide either.”
“I know it’s hard for you to understand, but he’s the closest I have to a parent left in the world. My father, even though people thought he was cruel, mostly enjoyed the theatrics of being king, and the spotlight. Musoke was the one making decisions, for the country and for me. Guiding me, educating me, trying to make sure I was ready for the crown. It’s hard to feel like he doesn’t get to decide for me, when he’s the one who knit that turtleneck.”
Her hand came to rest on his and she looked into his face, expression serious. “You’ll figure it out.”
Then she patted his knee and resumed looking out the window.
He snorted out a laugh. “I thought you liked telling people what to do. That was your cue to lay some life-changing advice on me.”
She looked back at him with a grin illuminating her face. “Fine, I’ll phrase it this way, then. Figure it out for yourself, perhaps with the help of the many things available to a king, such as books, therapy, and divine intervention.”
The car pulled into the driveway leading to the farm and Sanyu started to tense up. This was the part he hated, having to meet new people and put on a show. To be the perfect mixture of imposing, regal, and intelligent, to say the exact right thing to soothe their fears—and after the last few weeks he couldn’t just spout the talking points Musoke had given him. He would have to sort through his own thoughts as they tossed about on waves of anxiety and try to pluck out the good ones.
He rolled his shoulders against the way his muscles began to bunch. Shanti poked him in the arm.
“Here.” She dropped a small smooth rectangle into his palm. Chewing gum.
Oh great, now he had to worry about his breath, too? Had she endured it the whole car ride? Had—
“Your breath is fine,” she said, plucking the gum from his still-open palm and pushing it between his lips. “Chew anyway.”
She did enjoy telling people what to do, he mused. He began to chew, her finger brushing across his lips to rest against them, as if she feared he would spit it out.
Or as if she liked the feel of his mouth.
He blinked as a ridiculously strong mint flavor filled his mouth, tickling his nose and sinus cavities.
“What does it taste like?” She slid her hand down to his chest, her palm