Jabulani lay still on his prayer mat, his back to the door. Nomvula put a hand against the frame to steady herself. Keeping the guestrooms clean was a point of pride for her, but Dumani's work was evident. 

Under the comforting smells of hot and dry thatch, there was the unmistakable stench of urine. A stain darkened the clay floor, almost hidden under the frame of a broken chair. The windows were shut, and the only light came from the door, and the single candle Jabu slept in front of.

"Prince," Nomvula said gently. His ribs rose and fell in stutters under his silks, but he didn't stir.

Nomvula opened a window and rolled up the woven curtains. Twilight creeped into the room, and stale air went out the other way.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, pushing the broken chair to the side.

Silence.

Sighing, Nomvula sat on the floor with her back against the cool wall that encircled the guesthouse. "Dumani's outside, but he won't come in."

Jabulani's breathing stopped. Now that the room had some light, she could see the bruising starting on his neck.

"If your ribs hurt, lay on your back to relieve them," she said.

She counted seven heartbeats before he did. He was still facing the candle, looking away from her.

"Prince, I don't have the time to convince you to trust me. I don't even have the wit to explain that you're a child playing a game with consequences. And when I consider telling you that I'm the only thing standing between you and your uncle's wrath... well, I don't like the way it sounds like a threat." She looked down at Jabu through eyes half-hooded in exhaustion. "We're done with those now."

The candle guttered as a breeze swept in.

"Nevertheless," she went on, "you should trust me, you are playing with fire, and I am. So I'll only ask once: why did you not ask after Asanda's hand, as you were instructed to?"

Again, nothing.

"So be it." Nomvula pushed herself to her feet, gingerly, but no one was looking. She was halfway to the door when Jabu coughed.

"It was Lifa."

Nomvula kept walking.

"Wait."

She wiped her feet on the grass mat outside the door.

"Please," he begged with a wispy cough.

Dumani stood on the other side of the private guest yard, idly stuffing a long pipe. Nomvula turned around and closed the door behind her.

"I want no lies, no half-truths either."

"I'll give you all of it," he said. He was facing her now, twilight shining on fresh tears. "But you must swear to protect me."

"From who?"  

When he sat up, every part of him trembled.

"Dumani and Lifa."

"I know they're both using you," Nomvula said, leaning her back against the door, "but who else?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Lie back down, it'll be easier on your body."

He stayed upright.

"Prince, if you can't be honest with me..."

"It's the truth. Tata sent me to marry Asanda, and Dumani to make sure you agreed to it."

"And Lifa told you to aim your proposal at me. Was he instructed by someone else?"

Jabulani paused for a long moment, and finally swallowed. "Even he doesn't know her name, only that she looked like one of you."

She?

"A child of the Hundred Hills?" Nomvula asked.

"A Sunspear."

The cold spot between her eyes ached. "If a Sunspear made contact with your family, I would know."

"Lifa didn't say she was one, just that she looked like one. Felt like one, down to the spirit."

"And how would he know what a Sunspear's spirit feels like?"

"Like it'd never lost a war," Jabu said. "His words."

Nomvula stifled a shudder before it could climb up her spine. "And this person wants to start a war with me, through you?"

If Lifa had betrayed his living kin like this, it wasn't hard to see why his ancestors wanted him dead. If only they'd not involved her.

"I didn't lie when I said Tata's health wasn't in his own hands," Jabulani said. "Lifa plans a coup, but I don't know how or with who's backing." New tears pearled where the first ones fell. "I swear that's all I know. I swear."

Nomvula held up a hand. "I believe you. It's okay."

She didn't, not fully, but Dumani had beaten fear into the boy. Yes, his way of showing strength had been niave and clumsy, but children were allowed to be. It was utterly gone now.

"What will you do?" Jabu asked.

Nomvula sighed to purge the mess that was today. "Prince, I suggest you take a room in the main house so Anathi can keep an eye on you. I'd also advise you to leave politics to those of us with little to live for." 

Her voice turned a dark corner. 

"Lastly, offer your next prayer to the Sunspears. They're not fond of their history being paraded around, and neither am I."