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“Shuri, what do you think you are doing?”
The sound of her brother’s voice stopped Shuri in her tracks. She turned to face T’Challa. “Going back to my lab, brother.”
Raising an eyebrow, his head tilted to one the side. “That is not the way to your laboratory,” he pointed out. The eyebrow lowered, and he narrowed his gaze at her. “Unless you were going by the guest rooms on your way there.”
“And if I was?”
T’Challa didn’t beat around the bush as he said, “I know you have grown close to M’Baku since all of the tribes have come together, but I don’t want it going any further.”
“Excuse me?” Shuri bristled. “There is nothing going on between M’Baku and me other than an exchange of ideas. He has a brilliant mind. Same goes for the people from his tribe that I have worked with.”
“And what happened to my sister who was ready to take M’Baku on after his comments about her when he challenged me?” T’Challa pressed.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I gave him a piece of my mind,” Shuri replied. “Tried punching him too, but he prevented me from doing so. We have said our piece to each other and have moved on. Ever since then, we’ve been getting to know each other. I have also been able to get to know some of the people from his tribe, and I have learned so much from all of them. The whole experience has been great for me because I have so many new ideas to work with now.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t want it going any further,” he told her.
Shuri stepped closer to T’Challa. “You are not my father. Or my mother. You don’t—”
“But I am your king,” he said.
“And?” Shuri raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t give you the right to tell me who I can spend my time with, especially when that time is nothing more than a professional relationship. Yes, we might banter with each other, but you have known me all my life, that is who I am. Who I have always been. So tell me, dear brother, why is this any different?”
“Because you don’t know him,” T’Challa said. “And he’s too old for you.”
Shuri laughed. “Ah, there it is—the age. It is nothing but a number, and you know it. T’Challa, M’Baku isn’t that much older than me, and even if he was and we were in a relationship, that’s none of your business. I’m an adult and can make my own decisions and my own mistakes. I love you, my brother, but please, don’t. You won’t always be able to protect me like you want to, so let me learn from my mistakes. All I can do is grow from them.”
T’Challa stood there speechless as Shuri turned and walked away.
“She’s right, you know,” a voice said from behind him.
He turned to see their mother walk around the corner. T’Challa bowed his head.
“How long have you been there? And I know, but I worry about her,” T’Challa replied. “She’s been through so much and has grown up so fast.”
“Long enough.” Ramonda smiled at her son. Laying a hand on his upper arm, she whispered, “I know she has, T’Challa, but Shuri is right. Let her make her mistakes and be there for her when she needs you. Just—”
“Just as you have been there for me,” T’Challa finished.
“Exactly, my son. Come with me.” Ramonda wrapped her hand around her son’s elbow and led him back down the hall towards the throne room. “If it makes you feel better, I have seen their interactions, and it has been professional. Does that mean it will stay that way? No, but there is no need to worry now.”