T'Challa summoned them shortly after. As they walked to the throne room, Shuri said, gesturing excitedly, "Do you not see how perfect it is? We will each have a challenge for the next three months, and we will be together to support and encourage each other. Besides, think of what a wonderful lesson it will be in emotional intelligence - of which, you must admit, I am in desperate need."

Everett laughed. "Look at you, making all this up on the fly. You've got it all figured out, haven't you? You even sound as if you've convinced yourself."

"I have not. Not yet. Not quite. But I am trying as hard and as fast as I can. You do not know all the conferences and the meetings and the openings I will be bunking - not to mention my lab work. My heart is pounding and I am sweating as if I had swallowed a gallon of espresso. I honestly had less adrenaline during the battle of Mt. Bashenga."

"And all for the sake of a little fan mail."

"No, no, no. All for the sake of spending my days with you. And a little fan mail. I'll need a corner of your coffee house, of course."

"We haven't even seen my coffee house yet. For all we know, it has no corners. It might be perfectly round."

They entered the throne room, where T'Challa, Nakia, Ramonda, and the elders were gathered. M'Baku was conspicuous by his absence. As Shuri later learned, he had left at first light for Jabari Land, in order to break the bad news to and console his lovestruck son. After greetings and minor pleasantries, T'Challa spoke seriously.

"We will be as brief as possible. Princess Tafsut, as the spokesperson of the Tribal Council, will take the lead. Princess?"

Tafsut cleared her throat and gripped her walking stick. The lightening of the skin around her knuckles gave evidence to the strength of her hands.

"The Tribal Council will accept the continued residence of Mr. Everett K. Ross on the following conditions. One, that he is not allowed access to Princess Shuri's lab, private office, or the private offices of any of the Royal family. Two, that he is not allowed access to any meetings save for those in direct connection with his intelligence work for King T'Challa. Three, that he is granted three months' time to revive the cafe in Bright Street and make it a financial success. Four, that during those three months he is to provide King T'Challa and the Tribal Council with intelligence gleaned from customers of the cafe. And five, that during those three months he reside with me in my villa in Birnin Zana."

"Wait, what?" said Everett.

"Excuse me?" said Shuri.

"Do you not remember our discussion over chocolate?" Tafsut asked Shuri, clearly relishing her bombshell and the consternation it had caused.

"What discussion?" Everett asked.

Shuri ignored him. "I - I didn't mean for him to live with you!"

"If you do not like these conditions, I am certain we can find a seat for Mr. Ross on the next flight to Berlin."

"I accept," Everett said. "I'll abide by all the conditions."

Tafsut squinted at him. "But?"

Everett smiled. "But. I have conditions of my own. One, that Princess Shuri be allowed to spend her days in my coffee house, answering correspondence. Two, that I be allowed to purchase and import the exact equipment and furniture that I've got in my coffee house in Budapest."

"And who is to pay for that?" asked Malazo.

"Don't worry. I'll pay for it. And three, that my people be allowed to come here and work for me."

"More foreigners? What is wrong with hiring Wakandans?" asked Negasi.

"Nothing, if I have all the time in the world. But if all I've got is three months, I don't want to waste any time training new people. Even if they've had experience working in a coffee house, they haven't had experience working for me. I need Magda and Jo."

"And you believe they would be willing to drop everything on short notice just to help you out?" Negasi said, clearly skeptical.

"Are you kidding me? For the opportunity to spend three months in Wakanda? Prince W'Kabei, how long is it, again, that wait for tourist visas? And that's a lottery system, too, right?"

"That is correct." W'Kabei looked somewhat placated, and Shuri mentally congratulated Everett on intuiting that the Border Tribe was in charge of immigration and visas. "The wait is six months for preferred professions. It is much longer for tourists."

"Trust me, they'll come. Now, if we're agreed on everybody's conditions, how about I get a look at my new coffee house?"