The ceremony is quicker than I expect it to be. Waves lap the edge of the mountain, cool air gusting the hem of my robes. My people sit in an arc around us, done up in stripes with dotted faces. Ornaments loop in and out of their hair, and the ting of gold beads rings through the air with each breeze. The Ancestors’ burial ground is under our feet, and the sun is almost hidden behind Yiyo’s crest as I complete the last ritual of the ceremony. While I’m on my knees, Bati sets a cloak of fur across my shoulders.

“From Father Mishon Ide Beerchi,” he says.

“Mwaaa!” Barks of glee erupt from the Beerchi in the crowd.

“And from the Mother Moi Ike Yakanna,” Bati says. The ground rumbles under their pounding in revelry. He smiles, raising his voice above the cheer, and presses a golden javelin into my hand. “And last but certainly not least. A gift from Gahlee, me and my brothers.” He hooks a beaded strand between my wrist, then my finger. It twists once on itself in an infinity pattern. He traces his fingers along it. “Leading is a never-ending battle between believing you are good enough to do it and understanding how capable you are of making a grave misstep.” Bati traces the threaded symbol on his own robe, and whistles flit through the branches from his brothers. “The eternal balance of humility and pride, my Queen.”

I tilt my head in a bow before rising to my feet.

“It is with the highest honor,” he bellows, “I present Rue Jelani Akintola, daughter of Moi Mother Ike and Mishon Ide Beerchi, direct descendant of Aasim Ade Akintola and Naomi April Harris, daughter of East Row and Queen of Ghizon in her own right.”

Hollers blare in my ear and the sounds of plucked strings flit through the air. Music takes over the ceremony, and somewhere garlicky onion goodness is heating up.

With the ceremony over, I slip my bare feet into my Maxes and join the dancing. I loop arms with Bati, who might look ancient but moves like he’s still got it. We circle and I spin, twisting my hips, grinding to the beat. The best I can, anyway, in this gown. When my dance is done, I’m hip to hip with a Beerchi who got me looking like I can’t dance compared to his moves. I sway with him, rocking to the beat until my feet are sore and my cheeks burn from grinning. I catch sight of Julius, who’s trying to teach Bri how to bop. It’s not going well.

“I’m going to catch my breath for a beat, if that’s cool.” The Beerchi dances off, looping a Yakanna around the waist.

My gaze moves to Jue and Bri in the crowd like a moth to a light. “I never properly thanked you two.”