by Alyssa Cole
The way the shopkeeper spoke of Alehk raised the hairs at the back of Ledi’s neck. Maybe they had a little something going on, or maybe she just had a crush, but there was something beneath the woman’s words that seemed off. Some people thought science was all about cold, hard facts, but that wasn’t exactly true, especially when it came to fieldwork.
The facts come eventually, one of her professors had told their class. But before that, there is instinct. It’s not mumbo jumbo—we are animals, after all, and instinct is just a tool in our species’ survival kit. Never forget that.
“Are the townspeople unhappy?” Naledi asked. “Did they not feel my grandparents were leading them well?”
She thought of the frail couple hooked up to tubes and felt a flare of anger on their behalf.
“No, not at all, my lady!” The woman grimaced and looked about, as though they weren’t the only ones in the tiny shop. “It’s just . . . you have been away for a long while, living in the US with all of its opulence. Annie and Makelele are content with slow change, but Alehk thinks we could do more to help all Thesoloians live richly, not just those in the palace.”
Ledi was going to counter that her tiny studio wasn’t opulent, but she swallowed that comeback because it was a lie, comparatively speaking. She was privileged, yes, but what she had seen of Lek Hemane didn’t jibe with an underserved community. This woman had obviously never seen an overcrowded Bronx classroom or a housing project in Brooklyn in dire need of repair.
Ledi took another tack.
“Oh, is it Alehk who got the solar panels installed?” Ledi asked. “And the heated coils in the sidewalks?”
“That was your grandparents’ doing,” the woman admitted. “They have been working with Prince Thabiso on environmental initiatives.”
“That seems very forward thinking to me,” Ledi said.
“Indeed,” the woman said, and then laughed nervously. Her smile was now of the “I said too much” variety. “We are all wishing for their quick return to health. Please take the tea as my gift.”
She picked up the box of sachets Ledi had been sniffing and handed them over. “They are a combination of local herbs and it is said to bring clear thinking, luck, and . . . assistance in the bedroom.”
The woman gave her a coquettish grin as she not so subtly guided her to the door, and Ledi couldn’t help the heat that rose to her face. Thabiso didn’t need any additional skills in the bedroom.
And why would you give the tea to him, anyway?
Ledi tucked the tea into her bag, gave her thanks, and headed for the hospital, mulling over the woman’s strange behavior. She was only a visitor, but it seemed that Thesolo was a nation that took the well-being of its citizens seriously. She’d have to do more digging, but something wasn’t adding up. The woman had spoken as if those in power didn’t do enough—worse, as if Thabiso had actively brought harm to them. Ledi tried not to imagine the pressure of having thousands of people blame your bachelor lifestyle for a disease. No wonder Thabiso had risked asking her for help.
She had resented it, but thinking of him standing before the crowd with anyone else—pretending to love anyone else—made her want to kick something.
She stepped into the clean, bright waiting room of the hospital, only to find it packed with people, most of them anxious and looking about for help. Fathers clutched children to their chests, and people sat in visible clusters, shying away from their neighbors. A man stood at the front desk, his loud voice filled with frustration as he railed at the intake nurse. “How can you make us wait when we are sick with the Prince’s plague? It is his fault, and he must fix this!”
Could all of the people before her possibly be sick? How could she help all of them? The urge to back out of the door was strong, but then she thought of her grandparents and girded herself. She wanted to help people, and now was her opportunity to do just that.
She made her way through the crowded waiting room and a nurse buzzed her through. “We’ve been waiting for you,” the young woman said. “They’re in the back.”
Thabiso was talking to Dr. Bata, the epidemiologist, and Ledi ran over to them.
“Is what that man’s yelling true? Are all of these people sick?” Nothing in the data she’d pored over the night before had indicated that such an explosive uptick in the number of cases was possible. In fact, the disease had seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace, its spread following a yet-to-be identified and completely random pattern. If it hadn’t stricken two of the most important people in the kingdom, it might have gone unnoticed for months.
Dr. Bata gave Ledi a tired smile and removed the round glasses perched on her nose to rub at the lenses with the hem of her shirt. “There have been no new cases reported, but apparently there was a town hall meeting last night. It seems that the symptoms of the disease were discussed in quite the convincing, and blatantly incorrect, fashion, and now half the town believes they have the Prince’s plague. My apologies, Your Highness.”
Thabiso smirked. “I quite like the ring of it actually. It isn’t every ruler who will be known for bringing sickness upon his people. It’s very biblical.” His frown and the way he tilted his head to the side and stroked his beard belied the jokiness of his words. She had seen him make the gesture several times since she’d arrived. She remembered him doing the same that night in her apartment as he’d tried to talk to her—the night where she’d basically told him that nothing he said would change what she felt for him.
So he’s not the only liar in the room, it seems.
Judging from the way she wanted to reassure him, to talk some sense into the people in the waiting room who had been misled by people they trusted into anger at him, perhaps nothing had changed at all. That was the thing about viruses—once they got through your defenses, sometimes they’d never go away, the remnants of them lingering in your bloodstream long after you thought you’d recovered. Sometimes they changed you down to the DNA.
“So this is basically like an old-school version of WebMD-itis?” she asked Dr. Bata, pulling her gaze away from Thabiso. “They were told vague symptoms and now they all believe they’re sick?”
“Yes. Someone was irresponsible—reckless, in the event that any of the people here are actually sick and spread the illness to others. We’ll have to evaluate every patient, just in case. The first day of your internship is going to be quite fun!”
“Great,” Ledi said, and she wasn’t entirely sarcastic about it.
“Likotsi told me she downloaded the appropriate apps on your tablet. Can you pull up the SansFrontiere app?”
Ledi did as she was told while Dr. Bata dug into a bag full of cords. She grabbed the end of a cord and plugged it into the jack on Ledi’s tablet; the object on the other end wasn’t a charger, it was a high-tech version of an otoscope. Without preamble, she stuck the device into Thabiso’s ear and, a moment later, a reading popped up on Ledi’s screen.
“Oh yesss!” Ledi exclaimed. “I didn’t have the prereqs for the Modern Medicine class, but I’m fascinated by the use of technology in the field.”
Dr. Bata grinned. “It’s an app that’s being developed for use in large-scale outbreaks, especially useful in places without much medical infrastructure and nomadic communities. That’s not the case here, of course, but it’s also just cool, yes?” The woman’s eyes glinted with excitement. “There are three different attachments that take your readings and upload them, creating a digital file for each patient, an easily searchable database. It also cross-references other medical database apps to provide likely prognoses. You do have to input patient name, check off their symptoms, add notes, but at the end of the day we’ll have lots of data to work with. Be sure to check for hives or rash developing along the neckline. That seems to be ground zero in the cases we’ve seen.”
Ledi thrummed with excitement. Some of her cohorts had thought she’d be dealing with woebegone hospitals and difficult conditions when she’d mentioned her field study, but even Ledi h
adn’t realized she’d be working with equipment that wouldn’t be common in the US for years—maybe never if the science regressivists got their way.
“Let’s get to work,” she said, feeling a surge of energy despite her lack of sleep.
She had a promise to keep, after all.
Chapter 30
Later that evening, Ledi awoke under a warm quilt, wanting nothing more than to snuggle down and sleep for a hundred years. Was there an internship in sleep studies? She should have looked into that.
“Are you feeling better, my cousin?” Nya was at her side, and that was when she remembered that Alehk had showed up at the hospital just as she had wrapped up the morning’s tiring work. Her uncle had invited her and Thabiso to lunch at his home. Ledi had asked to take a short nap and had been asleep before she hit the sheets.
“Still a bit groggy, but better,” she said. “I guess my brain still hasn’t caught up with the time zone. Did I miss lunch?”
Nya smiled indulgently. “Lunchtime has passed, cousin, and teatime. It is almost time for supper.”
Ledi bolted up.
“What? How come no one woke me?” She scrambled for the boots she didn’t remember taking off.
“Because Prince Thabiso said that you must sleep as long as necessary, and that you were not to be disturbed.” Nya smiled and lowered her gaze. “He is very protective of you. And he cares enough to stay and be civil with my father, even after the castigation he received yesterday.”
Ledi’s brain was still halfway in the clouds, but she latched onto a fragment of the conversation she’d had with Thabiso that morning. “Alehk is a finance minister?”
“He is the finance minister, and he often doesn’t see eye to eye with the royal family. Sometimes I think it’s because . . .” Nya’s cheeks showed just the slightest tinge of blush. “You see, after your parents left, he assumed that I would be chosen to be Thabiso’s bride. Our mothers were the best of friends, and it was seen as a good omen when they all conceived during the same period.”
Ledi processed that new information. “Wait, what? They were best friends?”
“Oh yes,” Nya said. “One second.”
She rushed across the room and came back with a framed photo. Three beautiful dark-skinned women—Ledi’s mother, Queen Ramatla, and a woman she assumed to be Nya’s mother. Three wide smiles, and three large bellies.
“They were devastated when my mother died, and when the priestesses chose you as Thabiso’s betrothed, it made the bond between Libiko and Her Highness even stronger. When your family left without saying a word, the queen went into a state of shock. She wasn’t the same after that.” Nya shook her head. “This is all rumor, of course. But my father thought it went without saying that I would take your place as the prince’s betrothed. After I fell ill, he became even more adamant, filling my head with all kinds of nonsense about the future, as though choosing a bride for a prince was as simple as transferring a property deed.”
Ledi mentally sorted all of the information Nya had just provided her. There really was no replacement for boots on the ground investigation, because she’d yet to come across any of this in the emails Likotsi had sent her. Friendship, betrayal, and now a possible love triangle.
“Do you . . . do you love Thabiso?” Ledi asked carefully. Her chest went tight at just the possibility.
“Oh! No, of course not. I never wanted to marry Thabiso,” Nya said with a shocked laugh. “Dealing with one spoiled, demanding man my entire life has quite cured me of any desire for another one. Although seeing how Thabiso treats you makes me believe that I misjudged him. Or perhaps the priestesses were right when they chose you as his betrothed, for you seem to be the one who brings out the best in him.”
Ledi pulled on her boots. “He’s okay, I guess.”
“Mm-hmm,” Nya said. “You know, when I watch television shows about New York, the women are always so cynical about love. I see this is one thing that is not false.”
“That’s the only thing those shows get right.” Ledi laughed. “You can see for yourself when you come visit me. My apartment is the size of the bathroom in Friends.”
Nya grew suddenly sober, and Ledi startled at just how frail her cousin was. “Yes, it would be quite lovely to leave Thesolo someday. Even if just for a little while.”
“Hey, my niece, you are awake!” Alehk’s voice carried into the room before he strode in with a steaming mug of tea, Thabiso trailing behind him. “Here, here, have something to warm you up before you leave.”
“Night will fall soon,” Thabiso explained as Alehk thrust the tea into her face. “If we want to make it back to the palace, we should go. Unless you want to stay.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Nya said, rising to her feet and helping Ledi to hers. “Our accommodations are in no way fit for a prince and his future bride, family or not. Go, and I shall see you tomorrow.”
Her cousin moved quickly, wrapping Ledi up in her blanket cloak and scarf and hat, slipping her gloves onto Ledi’s hands, as her first set of foster parents had when she was a child. Alehk disappeared for a moment and returned with a large thermos. “For the cold road, then, where warmth is even more important.”
Ledi tucked the thermos into her bag. “Thank you, Uncle.”
She had always resisted being looked after and fretted over, always eager to show that she was an asset and not a burden, but she had to admit that it was surprisingly nice to have people who cared about your well-being, even if Alehk was kind of a jerk. Wasn’t that how most people felt about their families?
She was soon atop D’artagnan, waving farewell to her family as Thabiso directed their not so valiant steed through the quiet streets of the town toward the trail that would lead them to the pickup point.
“Thanks for letting me sleep,” she said eventually. “I feel a lot better. I’ve only worked in labs before, not in a clinical setting, so all of the interacting with patients wore me out. I’m glad none of them were actually sick, though.”
“It’s I who should be thanking you for working so hard today,” he replied. “You know, I looked up epidemiology back in New York after I found out your field of study. And I didn’t quite understand all the hard work that went into it. I remember once I asked you why you didn’t remain a waitress, as you should perform the job you are best at. After seeing you today, I understand why.”
Ledi grew a bit warmer under her layers of wool.
“I really want to understand what’s happening here,” she said. “I hate mysteries. I hate not knowing the ‘why’ behind things, and epidemiology is very much about answering that question.”
“I’m sure there’s good reason for that type of curiosity,” Thabiso said.
“Can it, Freud.” She felt his quiet laugh reverberate against her back.
They traveled in silence for a while, the sky darkening at a rapid rate as D’artagnan clomped his way down the trail. She shivered against the biting wind, which was no longer being filtered through the warming afternoon rays of the sun. “Do you think we’ll make it back before the sun sets?”
“We could have, but it seems nature is having a bit of a laugh at our expense right now.” He held out a hand in front of her and she watched a snowflake slowly drift down to his palm, only to be immediately whipped away by an icy gust of wind.
Annoyance ricocheted through her body. “Please don’t tell me I’m gonna be the first Black person who went on a voyage to the motherland and froze to death,” she gritted out through chattering teeth. “Social media would have a field day and I don’t want to live on as a meme. Did you know it might snow?”
“This storm was not forecast,” he said. “But the snow is coming down harder, so we should take shelter until we know how bad it will be.”
Ledi looked around, then threw her hands up in the air, the only expression of her annoyance she was sure Thabiso would be able to see from behind. “Shelter? We’re on the side of a mountain.”
“I’ve heard t
hat if you’re going to be trapped in a snowstorm, it’s useful to have a Saint Bernard with you,” he said calmly.
“Thabiso—”
“I told you Naledi, what I know, I know well. Trust me.”
And since she had no other choice in the matter, she did.
LESS THAN AN hour later, Ledi sat in front of the fire that Thabiso had made toward the back of a cave that wasn’t exactly large but would have gone for two grand at least in New York. D’artagnan stood around the corner in the L-shaped entryway, tied near a weighted flap of fabric that dampened the strength of the wind.
“The goatherds need to take cover sometimes,” Thabiso explained as he threw a tuft of fibrous dried grass into the fire. “This cave has been here for generations. I vexed many a nanny by running off to come here without their knowledge.”
“Scaring your caretakers half to death by making them think they’d lost the prince? How cute,” Ledi said. She was not pleased with their sudden camping excursion. Being stuck on a donkey had been adventure enough; sleeping in a rocky cave with no hot water or soft bed was cruel and unusual punishment. But there was something else stoking her impatience: another f word feeling that wouldn’t let her be. Fear.
“There was no other place I could go in the kingdom to be alone,” Thabiso said as he worked. “There was always someone trying to placate me, or reminding me of the responsibilities I would hold one day. Here, there was occasionally a lost goat or a herdsman on the outs with his partner.”
Ledi took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I don’t like feeling like this.”
“Like what?” Thabiso asked.
“Freaked out,” she admitted. Their impromptu camping trip wasn’t the only thing bothering her.
“Snow freaks you out?” he asked.
“My parents died in a car accident. Maybe you know that. I don’t remember much, but I know there was a storm and the roads were icy, and then the car skidded. Was it a taxi? I think I was calling for them and getting no response. Even that might be a false memory, though. But this kind of storm feels bad.”