She spent one day in the infirmary, just to be on the safe side. She spent two more days curled up tightly in her mother's bed, scarcely speaking, scarcely allowing her mother to speak, sitting up only to allow her mother to spoon soups and stews into her mouth. The food was good. She wasn't so far gone that she couldn't appreciate it. But there didn't seem to be much point in being awake for anything but food.
The fourth day, her mother brought her a manila envelope postmarked Vienna. Shuri rose, bathed, and dressed. She ate a bowl of savory grains. She drank a cup of coffee. She opened the envelope, skimmed the documents, asked her mother for a pen, and signed them. She put the documents into the return envelope he had graciously provided, the better to expedite their return.
"Shuri?" Ramonda said.
"Divorce papers. May I have more coffee?"
"I am sorry about the divorce."
"I am not."
"Daughter, you misjudge him."
"No. I think I judge him with amazing precision."
Ramonda sighed. With a tone verging on desperation, she said, "Shuri, Agent Ross saved your life by marrying you."
Shuri made a disgusted sound. "Bast give me strength! What are you talking about, Mother?"
"I asked him to marry you. I begged him to. And I made him swear-"
"Oh. Oh." Shuri shook her head in disbelief. "Why? Why would you do - Mother, why in the name of the ancestors would you do such a thing? What have I ever done to deserve this?"
Tears glittered in Ramonda's eyes. "Daughter, please hear me."
"Have I a choice?"
"I thought he loved you. I thought you loved him. I thought you were each other's destiny."
"Please, let there be no more talk of destiny! Mother, I know you did - what ever it was you did because you believed it would protect me. But that man is a liar and a spy and a snake. He overheard you when you told me the story of Shuri and Alexander Keats. He planned it all."
"He planned nothing."
"He is no relation to Alexander Keats, Mother. He confessed it himself."
"If he believes that, then he is wrong. He is the great-nephew of Alexander Keats."
"How would you even know?"
Sheepishly, Ramonda said, "I bought a subscription to yourancestors dot com and researched him."
"Oh, Mother. When did you even have time to do that?"
"After the battle. Before the banquet."
"All right. Fine. He is related to Alexander Keats. That doesn't change what he believes. And it certainly doesn't prove that he didn't plan this."
"Child, he did not, he could not, plan the influence of his destiny map on yours."
"Now destiny maps. Of course. Why is everybody around me intent upon manipulating my life?"
"Intent upon preserving your life. Do you honestly think I could bear to lose you? You, my daughter?"
Shuri wanted to say "You're doing a wonderful job of losing me right now." But when she saw the real anguish in her mother's face, she bit back the retort. She made herself remember what her mother had suffered during these past several weeks. And so when she spoke again, she made her voice gentle, her tone light and teasing.
"Mother, if you must meddle with me, will you please have the courtesy of telling me next time? So that I may make an informed decision and not make an utter fool of myself? Especially if it involves another marry-or-die scenario?"
Ramonda laughed through her tears, and Shuri congratulated herself on making the effort. "I promise, my daughter."
And she asked her mother to call for T'Challa.
T'Challa had wanted to see her the moment she returned to Birnin Zana, but Shuri made her mother promise to keep him away. She wasn't afraid of him, or angry at him. She knew, intellectually, that seeing him, just being with him, would ease her painful heart. But she was tender and ashamed and wouldn't allow herself the medicine of his presence.
He was dressed casually when he came into their mother's room, in soft, comfortable fabrics that soothed Shuri's eye. Without a word, he embraced her and held her. That hug achieved what all Ramonda's motherly attentions - and interferences - couldn't. Shuri's reserve shattered, and she pressed her face into her brother's chest and bawled like a hurt child.
"Oh, baby sister. Oh, baby sister," he said, patting her back gently. "Get it all out. It's all right. It's all right."
After a few minutes, he sat her down on the bed and brought over a box of tissues. She blew her nose loudly, repeatedly, while T'Challa dabbed the tears from her face. At last, she drew a long, shuddering breath and let it out again. She glanced up at her brother through wet eyelashes, sighed, and leaned her head heavily against his arm.
"So much for marriage," she said.
"I am so sorry, sister. I should have counseled you to wait."
"I would not have listened to you."
"I know."
"And you would be saying 'I told you so' now if you had."
"Never," he replied, his tone scoffing. "You should know me better than that."
She glanced up at him. "I do. I am sorry."
"Tch! Well you should be."
Shuri smiled. It was comforting to hear his teasing voice. But her heart grew heavy again.
"Why does everybody around me insist upon lying to me? Am I so weak, so stupid, that I cannot be trusted with the truth?"
"I do not lie to you, sister, and I never will."
"But Mother, and - that man, and even Baba! Why did Baba do it, Brother? How could he? How could he leave that child? Can you imagine how different things might have been, if only he had brought our cousin home to us?"
"Yes. I imagine it nearly every hour of every day."
"And now I feel as if our lives, all our lives, are built on nothing but lies and deceptions and omissions. We are a family of liars. We are an entire nation of liars, hiding in our superiority and our wealth."
"I will never lie to you, Shuri. I will never lie to my people. The truth is a hard road, but I will walk it, and I know you will walk it with me."
She thought of the tribal council. "If I am allowed to. What happens now? May I stay? Will there be a hearing?"
His voice neutral, T'Challa said, "The tribal council know that you have returned. They know that you are seeking a divorce. They will hear your appeal this afternoon, if you feel strong enough to face them so soon."
Shuri shuddered. "Bast. I might as well get it over with. How much must I grovel before them?"
"A bit," T'Challa admitted. "Shuri, I suspect that I am the true cause of their anger, for going to the United Nations. But I suspect that they are afraid to direct their anger at me, and so they choose the lesser affront and direct their anger at you instead."
"Afraid? Why?"
"Oh, many reasons. For one, they may fear that I doubt their loyalty."
"Because of our cousin?"
"Yes. Because of our cousin."
Shuri sighed and examined her fingers. "I have been thinking a lot these past three days. I have been wondering why I did what I did. And I think perhaps I was running away from all of this - from Baba, and our cousin, and W'Kabi - all of it. I do not understand. I cannot even imagine understanding. So I ran away to him, and I hid in him. And I did not even understand who or what he was."
"Who is he, sister? What is he?"
"Another liar. I gave up everything for a liar."
"I have observed, out there in the wider world, that there are men who will behave honorably toward other men, but behave despicably toward women. It is a side of their personalities that men seldom see. Is Agent Ross such a man? If I am to have future dealings with him-"
"Do not have future dealings with him! He called you a fool. He called Mother a fool. He is a liar and a spy and you must not trust him. Promise me you will not, brother. Please, promise me."
"I promise you. Have no fear, Shuri."
"I believe you," she said. And she was grateful.
