"I am the Queen of the most powerful nation in the world, and my entire family is gone. Have I not given everything?" - Queen Ramonda
I stared after her as she glided down the staircase. Shuri’s dress cascaded behind her like a black pool of water. It was made of the finest silks, held by gold rings and an encrusted black panther head with fangs on her chest. The dipped fang dangled in between her breasts against her bare skin. I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat, but my mouth became dry when I focused on the cutouts that exposed her dark skin. Okoye sure knew how to pick a dress. Shuri had tried her best to fight her way out of it, but it was clear that this was the dress. She had exclaimed that the outfit had fit too tight, too provocative, just too much for her. Yet as I watched her approach her subjects, all the nerves she had exhibited earlier were untraceable across Shuri’s posture. Her stride was regal, almost identical to Queen Ramonda. The people of Wakanda silently watched Shuri in awe. They had never seen the Princess in this light. No, not their Princess, their Queen. I was not able to be in attendance during Shuri’s inauguration amongst the Wakanda Council. Not only because I had school, but I wasn’t allowed. The ritual had been private, a sacred ceremony to officiate Shuri’s place on the Wakanda throne. Outsiders were not welcome. However, when Shuri insisted I attend the Public Crowning of the Wakandan Queen, I couldn’t refuse.
I stood off in the distance at the side of the balcony with Agent Ross to obtain the perfect view for the event. Out of sight from curious onlookers but close enough to make out every detail. M’Baku held the crown in his hands as if it was a delicate flower, and tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he walked towards Shuri. He had argued with Okoye for days that placing the crown on Shuri’s head should be him. Shuri told me that he yelled at Okoye and told her “she hadn’t become the general ****again until a couple of weeks ago.” This struck a chord with the Dora Milaje, leading to both groups almost getting into a physical altercation. Shuri had to break it up in the end. They settled it over a coin toss. I couldn’t hold in my laughter at the audacity of it all when we’d been on the phone. Imagining the mighty M’Baku keeled over a coin in anticipation was enough to elicit a giggle out of her.
“I present to you, Shrui Udaku, the Queen of Wakanda.” As M’Baku gently settled the gold crown atop Shuri’s head as his voice boomed loudly across the silent crowd of Wakandans.
The sea of people began to bow down to one knee, row by row, like a wave. I was in complete awe to see the power that Shuri held. She was now the sole leader of a whole country. I fell to my knees but kept my head raised to see only Shuri left standing and staring at me. A hint of a smile on her lips. She was breathtakingly draped in black and gold. I couldn’t help but feel special amongst all the people in front of her. She chose to steal a glance at me before she bellowed for everyone to rise.
The Dora Milaje raised their spears, and the Jabari tribe ****beat their chests in triumph, celebrating the new ruler of Wakanda. Shuri placed her arms over her chest as an “X,” yelling, “Wakanda forever,” and it wasn’t until she did so that I saw the tears flow from her eyes. They were leaving a streak down her perfected makeup—a sign of the girl who had nearly lost everything.
Shortly after the public inauguration, I returned to Shuri’s headquarters, where I stayed for the week. Desperate to change out of my heels, I mindlessly flung them on the floor to walk barefoot on the black marbled floors. My feet instantly felt soothed by the contact of the cold tiles. The only sound echoing is the soft padding of the soles of my feet, walking to sit at Shuri’s vanity overlooking the city of Wakanda. Shuri’s room was quiet and sombre. I bet I could hear a pin drop. At times it felt surreal to be in Wakanda, miles away from the loud streets of Chicago and the MIT students' crowds. When I first met Shuri and Okoye, I had been ready to throw anything to keep them from taking me away from the familiarity of my dorms. Although it had been months ago, I could recall the memory like it was yesterday. One would find it difficult to forget. When I first set eyes upon Okoye, she appeared viperous and ready to strike at any moment’s notice. I’m still surprised I was able to gain her respect. Okoye does not offer that to just anyone. Then again, I’m astonished about many things that have occurred these past few months.
The sweltering heat and sun from the ceremony had caused my dress to stick uncomfortably against my skin. I desperately needed to change into an outfit that allowed me to breathe. I fumbled with the zipper behind my neck, and my fingers struggled to pull down the clasp lock that kept the fabrics mended together. I am to be a scientist, and I still couldn’t figure out the intricacies of a simple dress zipper. Midway through my struggle, I heard my phone ping from a text by Shuri. We had unique ringtones for each other.
Meet me in the lab.
I looked at the clock to see not much time had passed since the public inauguration. Shuri should have been on the road for the parade throughout the city. That was the plan; she shouldn’t be in the lab. I made my way to the familiar doors I’d entered countless times to find Shuri sitting on the floor. Her dress puddled around her in a great heap of black silk. Once we made eye contact, Shuri was unrecognizable. The gold crown was still pinned to her head, and Shuri’s makeup remained perfectly painted on her face regardless of the tear stains. It pained me to see the softness in her eyes become cold and void. I’ve wished to keep the tenderness alive within Shuri, but since the murder of her Mother, Queen Ramonda, she hasn’t been the same. Shuri had become quick to irritate and rash. She still refused to tell anyone about the family member she had encountered in the ancestral plane. I knew better than to ask. The question always triggered an argument.
“Shuri, what’s wrong? What are you doing here? You should be with your people.”
“You are my people. That’s why I called you.” Her eyes remained trained on the ground. I’m convinced her glare could bore a hole in the laboratory floor if she wished. I couldn’t find the words to respond, unsure if I should correct her or scold her that she knew what I meant when I first said it. Deciding to remain quiet and listen was a safer option; once Shuri overcame her grief and anger, it was best to stay silent. I lowered myself to the ground to sit patiently in front of Shuri. Finally, Shuri released her lips from the tight line to speak again.
“Bury your dead. Mourn your losses. You are Queen now. Those words have haunted me for days as a prophecy I wished would not come true. I walked down these hallways a million times, feeling like a ghost in a shell. My insides cried for anyone to reach out and extract the pain that held my heart. But, instead, I’ve spent the remaining months making myself digestible for others to the extent that I no longer know what is left of me.
“The tears that have escaped me since that day felt like they would choke the life out of my soul. I would force myself to scream out from the empty cavern of my chest, yet no matter what I do, it’s as if it will never end. I wake up overtaken by a body that no longer knows rest, Riri. I don’t know how to cultivate the strength to be a Queen for Wakanda.” Shuri’s voice remained bleak as she spoke. I noticed the changes that had come over Shuri for quite some time but did not dare to look deeper. It wasn't easy to find the right words to provide comfort.
“To understand the depths of mourning, you must know love. The feeling you are experiencing is your yearning for your Mother with nowhere to go. It’s the final act of love. But she is still a part of you. Although she may not be present in the physical plane, she lives on with your ancestors. Or at least, that’s what Okoye has told me. She was quite brief with answering my questions.”
“Okoye has time to talk to you about Wakanda history?” Shuri asked.
“She doesn’t. I annoy her enough until she spares me some details.” The comment gained a full smile from Shuri. Her body language shifted slightly to face me onward, our knees lightly brushing against each other. I took this as a chance to use the light fabric of her dress to dab at her wet eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. Thankfully her dress was black, and the action didn’t ruin it.
“That’s the thing about grief. It’s messy, and it gets everywhere,” I whispered.
As I was about to retrieve my hand back to my side, Shuri grabbed it to encase it into her own. Her skin was soft and warm while she traced circles on the back of my hand. She’s held my hand countless times, but the way she grasped it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I didn’t have to look up to know that Shuri was now staring at me.
“I’ve prayed to feel a release, and at times it felt like no one was truly listening. So, Riri, I’m thankful I have you in my life, especially now when I need to bring myself back to Earth.”
“I think this is the first time you’ve admitted that you like me around.” Then, slowly raising my head, I offered Shuri a toothy grin.
“But there’s no need to thank me, that’s what friends are for!”
Shuri’s lips pursed when I said “friend,” as if the word tasted sour on her tongue.
“What? Did I say something wrong?” I felt worried that I may have ruined the moment. It wouldn't have been the first time. Shuri’s mood has been unpredictable, and I could never be sure what I might have said to trigger a reaction.
“No, not at all. It’s just…”
“Just what? Come on; you know that you can tell me anything.” Shuri broke eye contact to watch our intertwined hands, twiddling her fingers as she did so. She often did this when she was nervous or agitated. I wanted her to spit it out, but considering she finally stopped crying, I didn’t want to welcome another onset of tears.
“I don't want to ruin the friendship that we have together. Still, I want to be honest with you and myself. I like you, Riri, more than a friend. I’ve felt this way for a while now. I guess by saying this, I’m wondering if you feel the same way.” Shuri stumbled over her words. They all seemed to come out quickly and jumbled.
I wasn’t oblivious to how close Shuri and I had become. I held her down when she took the heart-shaped herb. I have never been much of a fighter, but I fought for her and would do it again if I had to. She never had to ask because I would always be there without a second thought or doubt. Thinking back, Shuri has done the same. I can’t remember a night without not talking to her on the phone. I never thought about her busy schedule as an upcoming Queen because Shuri made time to pick up my calls. The stolen glances and shy touches were not in vain. Shuri had become a part of my world. Of course, I felt the same way.
Wrapping my arms around Shuri, I brought her close to my heart and said just that. Her body fit perfectly against my own. As I held Shuri close to my chest, Shuri began whispering a song. I didn’t understand the Xhosa language but a deep understanding capsuled in my mind of memories that would never be erased. Almost ancestral to a place that I felt akin to. It offered a tiny bit of abreaction that denied us. I felt her breath on my neck as she sang; it left goosebumps and a fluttering feeling in my stomach. Numerous thoughts clouded my mind. The outstanding one was the desire and fantasy of what it’ll feel like to have Shuri’s lips against my own. However, this was not the time. Not when she had a duty to fulfill. As if the Universe had heard her, Okoye burst through the laboratory doors.
“What is the meaning of this? Queen Shuri, the people of Wakanda await.” Okoye’s eyes were ablaze, and darted between the two of them. I became increasingly aware of how we must’ve looked at that moment. I opened my mouth to say something, yet Shuri beat me.
“I’ll only go if Riri comes with me.”
I attempted to separate myself from Shuri, but she didn’t budge. Okoye looked as if she was at a loss for words. Unsure if she should risk her position to oppose the new Queen. When she didn’t immediately speak it felt like my heart would beat out of my chest. The seconds felt like hours as I watched Okoye’s face slowly morph into a soft expression.
“As you wish, my Queen,” she sighed.
The Wakanda kingdom showed no signs of the past infiltration from Namor and his army. As we made our way through the crowd of people with the Dora Milaje, people adorned us with white and purple flowers as they sang songs of rejoicing. The markets were lively with villagers desperate for a chance to get a glimpse of Riri and Shuri hand in hand. Eventually, they arrived at the end of the parade to see a mural of Queen Ramonda and Prince T’Challa overlooking the heavily guarded waters. Riri gave Shuri’s hand a reassuring squeeze, sensing the presence of her sadness return. Instead, Shuri felt the slow end to the pain that nearly destroyed her spirit— beginning to heal what was once shattered and entombed within. Not once had anyone felt her anguish and welcomed it into themselves. Riri had always been there, watching and waiting for her to come up to the surface. Shuri truly believed that she could conquer anything as long as she remained beside her.