Of course, I had to give these two their own Europe-centric chapter.

This chapter is probably one of my faves to date.

Intersession: From Wakanda to Copenhagen

Wakanda's Palace - 5:37 AM

"Do you have any plans three weeks from now?" Iqadi asks.

Imanu was barely awake when he heard Iqadi walk back into their room following her morning training session. He knew she wanted him to wake up because she wasn't being as stealthy when walking around their room. Usually, he never heard her. Now, he could pick up every footstep, every drawer or door opening. He heard her in the bathroom, freshening up. Then she walked back out as if she wasn't even trying to pretend she wasn't there.

Back when he was working in the mines, he had to be up so early and it didn't help that he had late nights. Now he has a tailored schedule and a comfier bed so if he doesn't have to be awake, then he won't.

It isn't until Iqadi sits on the bed beside him and her faint scent of jasmine hits him that he wakes. The first thing he sees is her calm face looking down at him with a small smile.

"You might as well have pushed me on the floor if you wanted me awake," Imanu says as he rubs his eyes.

"What are you doing in three weeks?" Iqadi asks.

Imanu pauses. He needs a second to wake up because he barely knows what day it is let alone what he'll be doing in three weeks.

"Our anniversary," Imanu says, smiling at the thought.

Iqadi raises a brow, nodding a little. "Three years. We have plans."

"Then why did you ask me?"

"We will go to Copenhagen for an event."

Imanu sits up in bed. "Based on how you're phrasing it, it doesn't sound like an anniversary trip."

"It can be."

"What about a pseudo-honeymoon?"

"Can be that too."

"You do know you never asked if I was available."

Iqadi purses her lips as she rests a hand on his arm. "Darling, I know you are. Our schedules are made for us."

"Then why did you bother trying to wake me up?"

Iqadi looks down at where he takes her hand and pulls her closer. A grin teases her lips as she leans forwards. Imanu wraps an arm around her back and hugs him closer. Her body relaxes over his and her breathing follows a steady rhythm as if she fell asleep.

"I just wanted to talk to you," she whispers into his chest. "You can go back to sleep."

"As long as you stay here."

-o-

Three Weeks Later - Copenhagen, Denmark - 17:55 PM

Three weeks ago, when Iqadi mentioned Copenhagen, Imanu didn't register that Copenhagen meant cold. He had to wear a sweater he didn't know he owned and shivered as he followed Iqadi through the streets. It didn't help that cold for him meant normal and brisk for the residents and that Iqadi didn't seem fazed except for her enchantment towards the colourful buildings. Seeing her joy made him stop his desire to ask her to make the city warmer since seeing her smile brightly felt like the sun on his skin.

Three weeks ago, when Iqadi mentioned an event, Imanu was too sleepy and distracted to ask for details. He nearly forgot about it when Iqadi took a nap on his chest. He didn't find out till a week before they were scheduled to be there that it was a black-tie charity event and they would represent her parents and Wakanda.

The mere thought of that made him cold again. Despite being married for three years and having been to these events many times over, it didn't change how awkward he felt at them. People wanted to talk to him about policies and formalities he didn't think he was competent in. People trying to please him simply because he was royalty.

"Do we have to go?" Imanu asks as he adjusts his cufflinks. He barely remembers the last time he had to wear one of these. "It's cold out."

"We're remaining indoors and it's not that cold," Iqadi says as she walks out with her heels in her hands. "I'm showing more skin than you."

Imanu stares at her. "Do you think I didn't notice?"

Iqadi pauses putting on her heels as she looks at him. Her braids are pinned back into a low bun, showing off her black sleeveless gown with a deep yet modest neckline that shimmers in the light and hugs her curves. It's almost like staring into the night sky. Her eyes lock onto his, inviting him closer. He stands next to her, hand hovering over her hip because it feels like touching her will burn him.

"What?" Iqadi asks softly.

"You look nice," he says, which is clearly an understatement.

Iqadi purses her lips to try and hide a smile. "Thank you. Do you think my perfume is a little strong?"

Imanu leans in closer, catching a whiff of her jasmine perfume on the spot behind her neck where she sprays it. He lingers there for a moment, fixing her braids to distract her as he kisses the clave between her shoulder and neck. He grins as Iqadi shivers against him. Her head falls back on his shoulder and she turns to face him, kissing his jawline as he hugs her around the waist.

"What are you doing?" She whispers knowing very well what he's up to.

"Checking if your perfume is too strong," he responds cheekily, kissing that same spot again before moving onto her neck.

"You'll make us late."

"Let them wait." He holds her tighter. "The bed is warm and it's basically our anniversary and honeymoon."

When he kisses her by the ear, Iqadi quickly turns around. She breaks from his embrace and pulls him closer to her by the lapels on his jacket. Her neck cranes upwards to look at him, lips inches apart.

"You just don't want to go," Iqadi says.

Imanu can't even play along anymore because she got him. She always does. His hands drop to her waist as he rests his forehead against hers.

"Partially," he admits. "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. You've been to these types of events before. Remember?"

"I've repressed those memories."

Iqadi narrows her eyes before tilting his chin upwards so he's looking at her. "Prince Imanu, you're perfect."

"Prince Consort."

"First and foremost, you're my husband, alright? I'm glad you're here. And for the record, your attempt at seducing me to stay here almost worked."

Imanu pauses, his mouth opening to say something before he stops himself. Did he hear that right? "Almost?"

Iqadi smiles with tight lips. "We've been married for only three years. You still have a lot to learn. Do try again later, though, when we're not pressed for time."

A small laugh escapes his mouth. "So this is an anniversary trip."

"Pseudo-honeymoon."

"Royal event."

"All the same."

-o-

Imanu has been at the charity gala for five minutes and imagines that it'll become another repressed memory. The guests are almost too refined in their sharp and dignified suits, himself included. Women in their best gowns and jewelry, his wife included and the best out of the bunch. Men in tuxes carry trays with champagne flutes as a grand orchestra plays in the corner. Couple dance in the centre following speeches given by famous doctors, founders, and philanthropists.

Iqadi knew everyone and Imanu did as well by association, whether people wanted to share a warm greeting, cheek kiss, or present an idea needing funding or donations. Whenever his wife spoke, words came out of her mouth so regally, so naturally. Everyone wants to listen to her. Everyone should. Everyone knows she's a perfect heir and will be a proper queen and protector.

Then there's him. A second opinion or additional comment as his hand settles on her waist. Before they knew it, they were in the middle of the dance floor, bodies pressed together as they sway to the music with other couples.

"Have we done this before?" Iqadi asks him.

Imanu thinks for a moment before shrugging. "I don't recall."

"Not even at our wedding?"

"Possibly."

"Don't tell me you also repressed that memory."

Imanu laughs a little. "I repressed everything else so I could remember that the most."

"Either way, this is nice."

"Fun, even."

"We should do it more often."

Imanu nods. He almost continues the conversation but stops when he notices that Iqadi's gaze is distant as if she's scanning the ballroom around them. He hopes there won't be an ambush of some kind because he's not in the mood to deal with one.

"What are you thinking about?" Imanu asks.

"The foundation exploring natural resources for growing industrialization," Iqadi responds.

"What about it?"

Iqadi holds up her hand and points at her engagement ring with her thumb. A simple pearl sitting on a small pillow of gold with a thin wedding band underneath. Imanu smiles at the sight and Iqadi mirrors it.

"You had an option of rings from the royal vault," Iqadi says. "Why the pearl?"

"We've been married for three years and you never asked until now?"

"Clearly."

Imanu nods. "Pearls are the hardest working stone. Naturally, when an irritant enters an oyster or clam, the mollusk defends itself by secreting a fluid for protection. Many layers coat the irritant and finally, we have a pearl. When I told my parents and Kili that, Kili just said it made sense since I'm an irritant. Anyways, it's beautiful and I knew going in that we both worked hard to get here and needed to work together to fall in love."

Iqadi stops dancing for a moment and Imanu follows. She stares at him intently as if he was the only one in the room and everyone else were blurs moving around them to the sound of violins and cellos.

"What?" Imanu questions concerned.

Iqadi leans in closer to whisper, "if you said that earlier, we would've shown up late."

His face drops. " … lesson learned." He looks at her with a grin. "Dear, do you think it's possible to extend our pseudo-honeymoon?"

She's already smiling. "Got any plans?"

"If your parents allow, we could visit our friends at the Academy."

Iqadi purses her lips. "Who says we have to ask them?"

And that right there is our transition into Year Four.

So this will be the last weekly update for this story for now. I don't have a definitive return date since I'm still planning and writing Year Four (as of now, I only have two completed chapters), but it will definitely be by September 2022. It's kind of trippy to think that far. On the bright side, PNG will still be having its weekly updates.