In a way, the deep crimson relic-weave robe Solomon usually wore had already become his official attire. As his arcane prowess continued to grow, so did the number of magical items he created himself—this robe, woven from sacred remains, became more elaborate with time. Besides the tailored suits Stephanie had prepared for him, this robe, bearing his personal crest, was now also reserved for occasions when meeting allies—though none of them actually knew what the robe did, they all assumed it signaled importance. After all, every time something major happened, he was either clad in armor or this robe.
Stephanie was the one who pointed this out to him—otherwise, he wouldn't have realized the Wakandans interpreted it that way.
By his usual habits, Solomon would've shown up to the contract signing in his formal academic attire, right after attending a formal dinner at the academy. T'Challa had once studied physics at Oxford; they even had the same professor. Solomon was sure the prince understood just how long and painfully dull those ancient collegiate dinners could be. Because of that shared background, Solomon and the Wakandan royal family had at least a few topics they could talk about.
Such as complaining about the ridiculous essays professors assigned each class, and how impossible it was to find the books on their reading lists.
Science majors had it relatively easy—their fields followed cutting-edge developments. But students of humanities, politics, or economics were often tasked with finding century-old, long out-of-print books. Solomon had seen more than one student venting online about not finding the required texts even before classes began.
That was the kind of topic that came up during Solomon's second dinner of the night with the Wakandan royals. Eating two dinners in one night wasn't difficult for him. They discussed the prior owners and staff of the space station only briefly—instead, the focus was on the upcoming speech King T'Chaka would deliver in Wakanda. The current monarch placed great importance on the event, but Prince T'Challa believed his father's decision was hasty—perhaps even reckless.
Such emotion shouldn't be present in a ruler.
T'Challa opposed lifting the vibranium embargo and exporting vibranium in exchange for resources or diplomatic support. While he knew that coupling this move with Wakanda's military deterrent would win global goodwill, vibranium was the foundation of Wakanda's industry and energy infrastructure. To sell off that foundation for international goodwill that might not even materialize—T'Challa saw it as unacceptable. But he was still a prince and couldn't publicly oppose his father's decision. All he could do was try to understand the reasoning behind it in private.
After Solomon left, the Wakandan queen approached T'Challa. She opened his door without saying a word and waved off the royal guards protecting him. T'Challa, confused, asked why—but royal will had to be obeyed. The guards left the room without hesitation. Once only she and T'Challa remained, she handed him a report prepared by the royal physicians.
"This can't be!" T'Challa gasped, stunned. "This condition can't possibly affect Father. If this is true, he shouldn't even be alive right now. When did the symptoms begin?"
"It's vibranium sickness. It started about a year ago," the queen said grimly. "You learned as a child the legend of Wakanda's founding—our ancestors took the heart-shaped herb to resist vibranium poisoning, and those who failed to resist became monsters. That wasn't myth. It was real history. Your father took the herb—he shouldn't be showing symptoms."
"Then he can take it again. We should begin researching the herb's active ingredients. I've said before—we shouldn't hide it in a temple. We can study, synthesize, and manufacture its effective compounds."
"No, it won't work, T'Challa." The queen shook her head. "The herb only works because of the Panther God's divine blessing. Your father's affliction means the Panther God has withdrawn its favor. I've prayed day and night but received no sign. The ancestors refuse to speak to me. He's anxious, my child. He wants to push Wakanda onto the world stage now, so that you'll inherit a stage worth performing on."
Hearing his mother say the heart-shaped herb's power came from the Panther God did nothing to change T'Challa's skepticism. Even as a boy, he had been taught that Wakandan kings joined the Panther God after death—but with age and scientific education, he came to believe that the Panther God was just a religious tool used by the royal family to stabilize the people. The herb, growing atop a vibranium-rich soil, was the real key to the Black Panther.
Still, to comfort his mother, he humored her.
"Could it be because of our cooperation with Eternal City?"
"No. The Panther God explicitly supports it. The priests have already conveyed the god's will to me," she said, reaching out to caress T'Challa's cheek, her voice catching with emotion. T'Challa sighed and handed the report back. He gently embraced her.
"I understand. But I still think Father is rushing things. We risk losing Eternal City as a steadfast ally. He doesn't have the same knowledge I do—he's more prone to misjudging the situation."
"Then go convince him!"
"Mother, but—"
"Go! You are the future King of Wakanda!" Her tears dried, her demeanor sharpened. She had once been a royal guard, fighting smugglers and spies on the border. Life as a queen hadn't extinguished the fire in her heart. Seeing her adopt that fierce look—the same one that used to terrify him and his sister as children—T'Challa immediately held his tongue.
"You must show the wisdom and bearing of a king. Your father sent you abroad so you'd understand the world. I believe he knows how important your guidance is. And if that old man won't listen—" she made a knocking gesture, "—I'll knock on his head myself and shake the foolishness out of it."
"I wish Shuri could hear your speech," T'Challa chuckled. "She's practically living in Eternal City now, maintaining our relationship with them. I'm sure she has something to say about all this. I'll go ask her what she thinks first."
Because of vibranium's vital role in Wakanda, the royal family took espionage extremely seriously. This made it very difficult for Eternal City to conduct any intelligence operations in the Wakandan capital. Even its embassy had trouble carrying out covert work. As for matters inside the royal family—without using magic, Solomon found it nearly impossible to glimpse anything.
But he had summoned the Panther God's will, hoping to ask how far along the plan was.
A chubby black kitten let out a little milk-burp, then flopped onto his desk and spoke in a mature woman's voice.
"I have kept my promise, Holy Son," said Bast. "Now it's your turn."
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