Chapter 37 — Welcome to Africa, Captain
Alexander first saw Azania shortly after sunrise.
He had been standing on the deck when the coastline appeared through the morning haze. Amara joined him without speaking and slipped her hand into his.
“Home,” she said.
Alexander smiled.
He expected emotion.
He expected the palace, the royal family, perhaps an impressive harbor.
He did not expect what appeared as the ship moved closer.
The coastline opened into an enormous natural harbor filled with vessels. Merchant ships moved between docks. Fishing boats crossed the blue water. Warehouses stretched along the waterfront, and beyond them rose a city far larger than anything Amara had described.
Alexander slowly lowered his field glass.
“You forgot to mention something.”
“What?”
“The city.”
“I told you about it.”
“You said there was a port.”
“There is.”
“Amara, that is not a port. That is an entire commercial city.”
She smiled.
“You should learn to ask more precise questions.”
Alexander stared at her.
She had done it again.
As the royal fleet entered the harbor, bells began ringing.
Crowds filled the waterfront.
Royal banners appeared from buildings and towers. Soldiers lined the docks while thousands of people gathered behind them.
Alexander turned toward Amara.
“All of this is for you?”
“I have been missing for months.”
“That wasn't my question.”
She ignored him.
The first voices reached them across the water.
“Amara!”
Then hundreds joined.
The sound spread along the harbor.
Alexander looked at her.
Amara was crying.
She did not hide it.
These were her people.
For months they had heard rumors that the princess was dead. Now she stood on the deck of her father's flagship beneath the royal colors.
Alive.
Amara raised her hand.
The crowd erupted.
Alexander stepped back.
This moment belonged to her.
When the ship docked, King Adisa and Queen Nalia went ashore first.
Amara followed.
The noise became deafening.
People threw flowers. Children waved small flags. Soldiers saluted.
Alexander remained behind her until Amara stopped and turned.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“Then come.”
“This is your return.”
“Yes.”
She held out her hand.
“And you are part of it.”
Alexander hesitated only a moment before taking it.
That gesture did not go unnoticed.
Thousands of people had just seen their princess return holding the hand of a foreign officer.
Alexander suspected his quiet arrival in Azania had officially become impossible.
“Still want to come?” Amara whispered.
“Ask me after your brother sees the crowd.”
She laughed.
Alexander expected carriages to take them directly to the palace.
Instead, the journey through the capital became another revelation.
Broad streets connected crowded markets, administrative buildings, military compounds, gardens, workshops, schools, and wealthy commercial districts.
Alexander saw languages and clothing from different regions. Foreign merchants worked beside local traders. Wagons moved goods toward the harbor while mounted royal guards struggled to keep the route clear.
He looked at Amara.
“You described none of this.”
“I described many things.”
“You described gardens.”
“We have excellent gardens.”
“You mentioned horses.”
“We have those too.”
“You somehow neglected the fact that your family governs a major trading kingdom.”
Amara smiled.
“I told you we were comfortable.”
Alexander stared at her.
“Comfortable?”
Queen Nalia, riding ahead of them, heard the exchange and laughed.
Then Alexander saw the palace.
It stood on elevated ground overlooking part of the capital, surrounded by gardens and several walls. But what impressed him most was not its size.
It was everything surrounding it.
Government buildings.
Military headquarters.
Residences.
Courtyards filled with officials.
Diplomatic quarters.
Stables large enough to satisfy even Amara.
“This isn't a palace,” Alexander said.
“What is it?”
“A government.”
Amara looked pleased.
“Now you're beginning to understand.”
That was precisely the problem.
Alexander had imagined that Amara was returning to a luxurious home.
Instead, she was returning to the center of a functioning kingdom.
And she belonged at its center.
The palace gates opened.
Alexander barely had time to dismount before the royal household descended upon them.
More relatives.
Many more relatives.
He looked at Amara accusingly.
“You promised there were more.”
“I warned you.”
“You did not specify quantities.”
An elderly woman pushed through everyone else and reached Amara.
Amara's expression transformed.
“Grandmother!”
The woman embraced her so tightly that Alexander thought neither might survive.
Then she held Amara's face and began crying.
After that came cousins, childhood friends, advisers, former tutors, household servants, officers, and people Alexander could not identify.
Some bowed.
Others abandoned protocol and embraced her.
One elderly servant kissed Amara's hands and wept.
Alexander watched quietly.
For the first time, he understood something he had missed.
Amara was not loved because she was a princess.
She was a princess who happened to be deeply loved.
There was a difference.
Eventually someone noticed Alexander.
Then everyone seemed to notice him.
Conversations became quieter.
Amara's grandmother examined him from across the courtyard.
“Who is that?”
Alexander did not understand the language she used.
Amara did.
Her smile became dangerous.
“What did she say?” he whispered.
“Nothing.”
“Amara.”
“She asked whether you are the handsome captain.”
Alexander straightened.
“I like your grandmother.”
“She has not finished.”
The older woman said something else.
Amara burst out laughing.
“What?”
“She wants to know why you are so thin.”
Alexander looked offended.
“I am not thin.”
“Apparently by royal-grandmother standards, you are starving.”
Her grandmother immediately ordered someone to bring food.
Alexander looked at Amara.
“I survived an ocean crossing for this.”
“You said yes before I finished the question.”
“I am beginning to understand why you didn't let me think.”
The formal reception took place that afternoon.
Alexander stood beside military officers while Amara entered the great hall with her parents.
For the first time since meeting her, he saw her completely inside her own world.
She greeted ministers by name.
She switched easily between languages.
She remembered officials' families and asked about their children.
She discussed trade with one adviser and security with another.
Nobody had to explain where she belonged.
Alexander felt pride.
And something more uncomfortable.
Doubt.
What place could an American captain possibly have here?
Amara noticed him standing alone and crossed the hall.
“You're thinking too loudly.”
“What?”
“You have that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one where you decide something foolish without consulting me.”
Alexander smiled.
“I was merely wondering where I fit.”
Amara looked around the enormous hall.
Then back at him.
“Here.”
“You answered very quickly.”
“I learned from you.”
That evening, they walked through the palace gardens.
Amara showed him the tree she had climbed as a child, the wall she had once used to escape a formal reception, and the path leading toward the royal stables.
Alexander stopped.
“You escaped from here too?”
“Several times.”
“So kidnapping did not begin your history of unauthorized departures.”
“Absolutely not.”
Alexander laughed.
Amara pointed toward the distant city.
“That is my home.”
“I understand now.”
“No, you don't.”
He looked at her.
She smiled.
“You have seen one day.”
Alexander sighed.
“There are more surprises?”
“Several.”
“How many?”
Amara began walking.
“Good night, Captain.”
“Amara.”
She laughed and continued toward the palace.
Alexander followed.
He had crossed an ocean expecting to visit the home of the woman he loved.
Instead, he had arrived in a kingdom.
A kingdom with armies, ports, wealth, politics, traditions, thousands of people celebrating Amara's return—and apparently an unlimited supply of relatives.
Once again, Princess Amara had neglected to mention several important details.
And Alexander was beginning to suspect she had done it on purpose.