I didn't tiptoe, I ran. Like a criminal escaping judgment, like a girl who'd just spent the night in a prince's room, and had the nerve to leave before sunrise without even a proper goodbye. My bare feet slapped softly against the polished marble floor of the mansion, my head was drumming like festival drums. The guards had long since changed shifts, and the corridors were empty except for my stupid guilt and the fluttering hem of my borrowed robe.
He hadn't touched me. But the way his eyes softened when I looked at him… the way he tucked that silk blanket over me when he thought I was asleep…it made something warm curl inside my belly and that terrified me, because I know I don't like Prince Jabari. I mean, sure, he's beautiful in that arrogant royal way. And yes, his laugh is like warm spice and his voice sounds like honeyed tea on a rainy evening. But I don't like him and I barely even know him.
So why did I wake up tangled in the memory of him? Why did I sneak out like a thief? Why was I blushing at the thought of him looking at me? Why did it feel like I'd just left something I didn't want to admit I needed?
I slipped back into my chamber just as the first streak of dawn painted the sky. Sank into my bed and buried my face in the pillows and when my maids came to wake me two hours later with news that breakfast was ready, my heart betrayed me by skipping a beat.
Lately, I perfected the art of avoidance. If Jabari was on the west side of the palace, I'd disappear to the east. If he came near the training grounds during my lesson time, I'd miraculously remember an urgent need to bathe or read or breathe elsewhere. And if he sent for me, which he did, more often than I dared to admit, I'd send a polite excuse wrapped in silk and silence.
It wasn't that I didn't want to see him. It was that I didn't trust what I might feel if I did. But what twisted the knot in my chest tighter was not Jabari's persistence, it was Taji's sudden distance.
He'd been my shadow since the day I could remember. My compass through street storms. But now, when I needed him most, he was… absent. Not physically. No, I'd still catch glimpses of him down long corridors or hear his voice as he sparred with the guards. But emotionally? Spiritually? He was retreating behind walls I couldn't name and it made me panic in quiet ways.
At first, I told myself it was nothing. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he needed space. But when days passed and he still hadn't come to see me, still hadn't checked in or cracked a joke or reminded me to keep my chin up, I started to worry.
Was he angry with me? Or worse, was he jealous?
The thought felt ridiculous, but it kept creeping in. Especially with how everyone whispered about me and the prince now. I could see it in their eyes when I walked by. I could feel it in the way the palace maids giggled behind their hands. I could hear it in the way even my own mother disregarded the topic too knowingly when I spoke his name.
I started sending my maids, subtly, and carefully to find out what was wrong.
"See if Taji wants to take a walk with me."
"Mention to Taji that I miss his terrible jokes."
"Ask if he's free to share a meal this evening."
But the answer was always the same: He said he's busy, my lady. Or worse: He didn't respond. I'd stare out the window some nights and wonder what part of the plan was unraveling. Because the plan had always included Taji. He was the one who first promised to protect me. Who first held my hand when the truth about my birth splintered my world. Who always reminded me who I was, even when I couldn't remember it myself. So why was he fading now?
I decided I'd had enough of wondering, enough of pretending not to care. The knot in my chest was too tight, and I needed answers before it suffocated me. So I waited. I waited by the staircase where I'd often seen him pass during the late afternoons. And when I saw his familiar frame walking by, head down, fingers grazing the rail absently, I didn't hesitate.
"Taji," I said sharply, gripping his arm before he could walk past.
He froze, muscles tense under my fingers, but he didn't pull away.
"We need to talk," I said, my voice firmer than I felt.
He turned, eyes guarded. "Talk? Talk about what?"
"Us," I said quickly, heart pounding. "You've been avoiding me, Taji. Avoiding us. There's no way we even talk anymore. Not like we used to. What's going on?"
He looked at me, then away, jaw tightening. "Nothing, Zu. Nothing."
"Don't lie to me," I said, stepping in front of him. "You've always been honest with me. Why are you pushing me away now?"
He laughed bitterly. "Because I'm way out of your league now."
I blinked. "What does that even mean?"
"It means this whole thing, you and me, it's childish. It's dead. You've always been the star and I've always just been... the shadow."
"You've always been my friend," I whispered.
"Friend? Friend, Zuri?" he repeated, voice rising. "Really? Is that all I am to you? Okay then. Brother, right? Let's stick with that. Brother."
"But you know we aren't siblings," I said, taking a step back as something unfamiliar and sharp glinted in his eyes.
"That's the thing, Zuri. We're not. And I've spent years pretending we were. Years watching you grow, watching you smile at everyone but me, watching you run into danger and let me pick up the pieces. And now... now you spend your nights with a prince and your days pretending I don't exist."
I gasped, heat rushing to my face. "That's not true. Jabari and I—"
"Save it," he snapped. "I don't want to hear about Jabari and his perfect palace life and his golden crown. I've had enough."
Then, he turned around, and I thought to stop him. But before I could do that, before I could even think, his hands cupped my face and he kissed me.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't sweet.
It was a storm. Years of emotion poured into one reckless, breathless moment.
I froze. My eyes wide. My heart too loud. The kiss didn't feel like Taji. It didn't feel like home. It felt like confusion. Like betrayal. Like desperation.
I pulled away fast, breath caught in my throat. "Taji, stop. We're like siblings. We've always been."
"Like siblings, Zuri? That's not realistic. That's not how I feel. It's never been."
"But what about the plan?" I asked, voice cracking. "Jabari... his mother... this was never about—"
"Count me out," he muttered coldly, already turning away.
"Taji—"
He hissed, shoulders tense. "Don't."
And just like that, he walked past me. Down the stairs. Out of reach.
And for the first time, I didn't know if he would come back.
The Empress had sent word that the Prince wanted to speak with me privately. My foolish heart beat faster than a galloping mare.
He was already waiting.
Leaning casually against a pillar, his silhouette carved like something out of a legend. Silver embroidery gleamed across his navy tunic, and his hands were clasped behind him, like he'd been standing there longer than he should have.
"Zuri," he said simply, his voice low but lined with something I couldn't name.
"Prince Jabari."
"You only call me 'Prince' when you're trying to pretend you're not thinking about that night."
I blinked. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He pushed off the pillar and began walking toward me, each step unhurried, deliberate.
"No?" he said, stopping barely a breath away. "Then why haven't you looked me in the eye for three days? Why did you run before sunrise?"
I crossed my arms to steel myself. "Because I shouldn't have been there. You know that."
"And yet," he leaned closer, his voice softening, "you were."
I hated the way my stomach fluttered.
"I didn't stay," I said weakly.
"But you wanted to."
Silence clung to us like a veil.
"Why did you call me here?" I finally asked, looking past him toward the blooming moonflowers.
He smiled then, like he'd been waiting for me to ask. "Because I needed to see you. And because you ruined a very fine silk tunic with your disappearing act."
I frowned. "Excuse me?"
He tilted his head playfully. "You knocked over a wine decanter on your way out. Red wine. On my favorite tunic."
My mouth parted in shock. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't know—"
"It's fine," he laughed. "I told the servants it was my fault."
My stomach twisted with guilt. "You didn't have to—"
"Zuri," he interrupted gently. "There's something else."
He gestured for me to follow him into the garden. We walked in silence, my nerves strung tight.
Then he stopped near the rose trellis, and his expression shifted into something solemn.
"A maid accidentally spilled wine on your dress during dinner two days back ," he said. "Do you remember?"
I nodded, confused.
"She trembled so hard I thought she'd faint. She was just a girl. Couldn't be older than fifteen."
His eyes darkened.
"She thought you'd slap her. Or worse, that I would."
"But I didn't even"
"You didn't." His jaw clenched. "But when I saw the stain spreading across your dress, and the look in her eyes… something in me snapped. I-" He looked away, ashamed. "I shouted at her. In front of the other maids."
I covered my mouth. "Jabari…"
"I humiliated her. I could see it in her eyes. But all I could think about was you, your dress, the way your shoulders tightened like you were trying not to cry."
I swallowed, heart tight.
"You barely know me," I whispered.
He turned to me, eyes glowing under the afternoon light. "That's not true."
I said nothing.
"Do you want to know what I remember about that night you slept in my chamber?" he asked suddenly, his voice low and aching.
I nodded once.
"You curled up by the fire, mumbling about the stars. You talked in your sleep. You said something about mangoes and fireflies and… called out Taji?"
My chest ached at the sound of his name. "He's my best friend."
Jabari nodded. "I figured. But what struck me most wasn't what you said. It was how peaceful you looked. Like for one night, you weren't carrying the weight of being Zuri the lost heir, the girl everyone is watching. You were just… you."
I blinked back the burn behind my eyes. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because I want you to stop running from me."
My breath hitched.
"Zuri," he stepped closer, reaching into the pocket of his robe, "you may not remember who you are. But I know who I am. And I know what I feel when I look at you."
He opened his palm.
A necklace sat there, delicate and gold, with a tiny carved pendant shaped like the sun.
"My mother gave this to me on my sixteenth birthday and she said I should give it to someone who made me proud."
I shook my head. "I can't accept that."
"You already have," he said, and gently fastened it around my neck. His fingers brushed my skin, and I shivered.
"Now it's yours."
I touched the pendant, breathless. "This… this is too much."
"You're too much," he said, and smiled when I blushed.
We sat on the stone bench beneath the trellis, and for hours, we talked.
He told me about his childhood, how he used to sneak into the stables to nap with the horses, how he'd once painted the palace walls with crushed berries and told the Empress it was modern art.
"She didn't speak to me for two days," he laughed.
"I don't believe you," I grinned.
"Oh, it's true. Ask my mum."
I looked at him, really looked at him.
He wasn't just a prince. He was a boy who hadn't been lonely, who had a mother that would do anything so he gets the throne, who wore duty like armor but longed for something real beneath it.
And I was beginning to hate, or so I thought.
I didn't know when I stopped laughing. I just knew the air between us changed, like something invisible had shifted. His eyes moved to my lips, and my heart stumbled.
"I've wanted to do this since the first time at the outreach" he whispered.
"Oh". I whispered
"That's the one."
He leaned in.
Closer.
Closer still.
And then our lips met.
Warm and gentle like the softest of summer rains.
I felt it everywhere, in my chest, my spine, my soul. His hands cupped my face like I was something sacred.
And just when I leaned in deeper.
"Zuri"
We jumped apart like scalded cats.
Empress Imani stood at the garden entrance, my maids beside her, both frozen like statues, one with a raised brow, the other slack-jawed.
Oh no.
I clutched the necklace instinctively. Jabari cursed under his breath.
"I believe," Empress Imani said slowly, "we may have interrupted something."
My maids looked like they were about to faint.
Jabari cleared his throat, rising to his full height. "Mother, We were just—"
"Just what?" the Empress asked, eyes narrowing. "Exchanging... horticultural insights?"
I stood too, my face on fire. "Your Majesty, I—"
"No need to explain," she said, but her eyes lingered on the necklace at my throat. Her gaze turned calculating. "I can't believe the evening has grown... interesting."
And with that, she turned and walked away, my maids following like a shadow.
Jabari exhaled slowly.
"Zuri in my chambers now." she yelled
I had just kissed two men in a day, my best friend, Taji and the man who desperately wants my throne, Jabari. From the Empress's words I knew I was in trouble.