The Royal Nanny

by V Vee

  Leyah bit her lower lip and stared down at her stained underwear. Why was this happening now? Her mother had given Leyah the talk about her menstrual cycle and the possibility of her getting pregnant once Leyah’s breasts had begun to develop, but her mom had forgotten to describe exactly how… messy and bloody the whole thing was. Not to mention, the pain of the cramps. Why would she leave that out?

  Leyah continued sitting on the toilet wondering what exactly she was supposed to do next, when there was a knock on the door.

  “Aa’Leyah?” Queen Mwassaa’s sweet, loving voice sounded through the wooden panel.

  “Kutíbābā?” Leyah called out.

  “Are you alright, my child?” Mwassaa asked.

  “No,” Leyah admitted with tears in her voice.

  “Oh honey,” Mwassaa hesitated. “Are you constipated? Do you need some prune juice?”

  Leyah’s eyes widened. “No! Kutíbābā, I have… become a woman,” Leyah stated softly.

  “What do you mean you are a woman, you are not old enough to… oh,” Mwassaa’s voice trailed off. “Sit tight, my daughter. I shall return with everything you need.”

  Leyah nodded, even though her mother could not see her, and wrapped her thin arms around her waist, trying to contain the pain that gripped her insides. She heard her mother’s footsteps moments later… as well as the sound of three other people.

  “Kutíbābā?” she questioned with caution.

  The door cracked open, Leyah’s mother peeking in, the key in her hand. She gave Leyah a comforting smile and squeezed through the open doorway, her hands holding a new outfit, towel, washrag, a box of pads, and a water bottle. Leyah smiled when she saw her mother had brought a pair of black sweatpants, and an oversized t-shirt. Exactly what she wanted to wear.

  After a shower, and a lecture with her mother reminding her of what she needed to do, Leyah followed her mom out of her bedroom and into her sitting room. There were three women sitting in wait for them. The royal cook, a full-figured light brown-skinned woman, with thick, kinky hair and a pleasant smile. She placed a plate of brownies on the table and gestured to Leyah for her to take one. Leyah did so without hesitation, though she grabbed three. What was this craving and aching need to eat chocolate?

  Another woman was her mother’s personal assistant. She was tall, with a small waist, small bust, and round, full hips. Her ebony skin glowed in the light of Leyah’s sitting room and she held a small box, which she handed Leyah, though she told her to wait to open it.

  The last woman was her mother’s personal attire specialist. She was in charge of purchasing clothes for Queen Mwassaa and helping the queen to dress for the day and special events. She’d recently begun dressing Leyah and the young princess had admitted to her mother that it was extremely strange.

  She said nothing this time, however, when the royal attire specialist handed her a garment bag and a shoebox.

  Leyah looked up at her mother in confusion when Queen Mwassaa led her over to an armchair and sat her down in it.

  “In this country, when a young girl becomes a young woman, there is a celebration held in her honor among her family friends. It is a special time for her and those who know her. She has stepped into the mantle, the power, the responsibility, and the magic of womanhood. Her body is alerting her that she can now bring children forth to enrich society. To continue her family bloodline. To raise a new generation of Waldakans who will strive to change this world for the better.” Queen Mwassaa smiled at Leyah. “But also, she becomes another link in the unbreakable bond of sisterhood.” She turned to look at the other three women, a soft expression on her face. “You have now become an extra pair of arms to assist your fellow sisters. To uplift them. To encourage them. To raise them up when they need the support. You have become another mouth to offer words of love, comfort, support, encouragement, care, advice, admonishment, and strength, not only to the other women who surround you, but to their children and your own as well—when you have them—so that the voices of the Waldakan women will always remain strong. You have become another heart that beats for Waldakan. For her people. For your people. Another heart that breaks at loss, injustice, and hatred. Another pair of feet to march when it is time. To walk towards those who are in need of care.”

  Queen Mwassaa stepped to her daughter. “You see my daughter, you have come into the wisdom, the truth, that there is no shame in asking for help. In offering assistance to others and accepting that same for yourself. You know that we all offer our hands, our arms, our bodies, and our time to help each other when it is needed. From the youngest to the oldest, we have held each other up. Just as King ZwooZa’s wife: Oonktu΄al Zameer held him up when our people were removed from our homeland. Just as she snuck out the royal jewels and sacred ring and necklace which meant so much to our people, and was a sign that we were not beaten, never broken, merely displaced, and yet, still strong, still amazing, ever growing. So too will you now take on the role within this country that no matter what, come what may, you will hold up your people. Hold up your family. Even if it means asking for help. Even if it means one day taking the help of your children, as Queen Oonktu΄al had to do when she asked her son to hide the jewels when the kingdom came under attack again.”

  Her mother cupped her chin. “You will do what you need to do in order to keep moving forward. Remember, you define you. You have the power to determine what is right and good for your people, for your family. It is upon your heart, within your body, by your hands that this world, your world, will be created or destroyed.”

  Leyah’s eyes widened in amazement at her mother’s description of what her ancestor had done. Asking a child to help her when she was under attack? Leyah’s father had always stated that a royal did not seek the help of others when death is near, but rather faced his Makers head on. And yet, her mother was telling her that women knew to seek the help of others when need be. Even if that help came in the form of a child.

  Leyah squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Women are amazing and I’m proud to be one,” she proclaimed and smiled when the other women let out a Waldakan sound of exultation.

  Later that evening her mother and father stood on either side of her as she opened the box given to her earlier that day. She wore a long, satin, red gown, her crown perched atop her thick curly braids, a pair of red flats on her feet. When she opened the box given to her, which looked aged and had a lock on the front, Leyah gasped. Inside the ancient box was the sacred and priceless Waldakan spinel ring and necklace.

  Valerie’s mouth was hanging open when Leyah finished speaking. Leyah looked away shyly, then, remembering who she was and the fact that Valerie was aware of that truth as well, she lifted her chin and looked back at the other princess.

  “This is why you should not feel ashamed of your children helping each other. You are here. You are with them. They see you. They feel your love and they learn from you. They learn from their father. But they encourage each other. They help you with each other, not because you have failed them, or because you have become, what you Americans believe, is a sad, stereotype of a single parent. They help you take care of your siblings, because you have shown them the way. Because they love each other. Because you have shown them and taught them, exactly what my mother taught me ten years ago, that there is wisdom and strength in asking for help when one needs it and that we,” Leyah gestured between herself and Valerie. “Are a community. A family. And family helps each other.”

  Valerie nodded then tilted her head to the side again. “And what do you need help with, Leyah?”

  Leyah sighed. “It is Princess Aa’Leyah Zameer,” she nodded. “We have yet to discuss this, but I am the princess of Waldakan and originally, I intended to come into Malvidence to find a way to dethrone and remove the royal family—the Smythes—and return my people to the very country they were removed from. Return their land to them.” She held up her hand when Valerie went to rise from the couch. “But things have changed.” She s
miled when Valerie quirked an eyebrow at her. “I have… fallen for Prince Alastair. I have also grown to like and respect you, your husband, your family, and the Smythes. Though I still feel as though my people are owed the land in which the Smythe royals now rule, I want to come to an agreement diplomatically. For a treaty to be signed. An agreement reached. Between Malvidence and Waldakan.” She sighed. “To do what my ancestors and Alastair’s ancestors could not do.”

  Valerie’s eyebrows lowered as she frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Leyah explained the story of the first and last meeting between the King of Waldakan and the Kings Weshian and Smythe. When she finished the old story, Valerie’s eyes flashed with anger. Leyah was afraid the anger was directed at her, and prepared herself to either fight, run, or in a worse-case scenario… surrender. But she would only do that if fighting or running put the precious “Alphabet Smythes” in danger, otherwise, she would fight. She may have been a princess, but she was a warrior as well.

  “Damn greedy colonizers,” Valerie growled angrily. Leyah’s eyebrows rose on her forehead quickly as she looked at Valerie in shock. The older woman waved her hand. “You wouldn’t understand, not really—although maybe you do—but this sort of thing happens all over the world. Countries, leaders of certain countries, will enter another inhabited, flourishing, prosperous country and decide it is their right to take ownership of it, because it’s beneficial to them, and they think the other country is beneath them, more primitive, less educated, or cultured, or civilized. When the truth is, oftentimes those countries have a rich, deep tapestry of culture, intelligence, intuitiveness, creativity… magic, that is not appreciated by what we call: colonizers.” Valerie shrugged. “It’s just a term we use.”

  Leyah laughed. “I like that word.”

  Valerie chuckled. “Yeah, Americans are good about finding inventive ways to call people assholes.”

  The two women burst into laughter, which subsided quickly when Valerie touched Leyah’s arm.

  “Have you told Alastair yet?”

  Leyah shook her head. “No. I’m not sure exactly how to or when I should. He has determined that we should get married in two weeks, and I find that I do not want to deny him. I want to marry him. I want to have babies with him. And yet, the weight of this deception, and the burden of honoring my promise to my people and getting vengeance for the death of my parents, weighs heavy on my shoulders and my soul.”

  Valerie squeezed Leyah’s forearm. “Who murdered your parents, Leyah? Princess?” Valerie asked.

  Leyah sighed and her eyes filling with tears she answered, “They were soldiers of Malvidence. I was fourteen and I watched as my parents were captured by Malvidencian soldiers, forced onto their knees and then Danorian hid me for my own safety, yet, I still heard the very moment my parents were killed by soldiers, men, who wore the crest and the colors of the Malvidencian military.”

  “What happened after that? Did you flee?” Valerie questioned.

  Leyah shook her head. “No. I, along with Danorian and our warriors, who were on their way, went down and fought the soldiers who’d killed my parents, our king and queen. I had their bodies returned to Malvidence. All but three were justifiably killed that horrific evening and I have searched for those three ever since. I want justice for my parents for my people.”

  “For you?” Valerie surmised.

  “For me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A lastair waited for Leyah to arrive for their outdoor “date” and smiled. He’d wooed and dated many women in his life, but usually those outings ended with him balls deep inside of the woman. This date would not be like that. Alastair would end this particular outing in a completely different way… by placing the engagement ring he’d purchased just that afternoon upon his future wife’s finger.

  Two weeks. He could wait two weeks to bury his cock inside Leyah’s body and just… stay there for a few hours… days… weeks.

  The sound of soft footsteps on the grass caused Alastair to look up and his gaze to collide with brown eyes of Leyah. His virgin bride. His virgin nanny. His future wife and the future mother of his children.

  Alastair cursed his dick when the damn thing plumped up at the thought of filling Leyah with his seed and watching her grow round with his baby. Down boy, he admonished his cock. We don’t want to scare her off. While he and Leyah had done many things together. Talking almost daily when he came by to see her in his brother’s suite, or when he saw her in the hall, or when he sought her out in her room. Kissing, and even with him having buried his tongue in her quim on two separate occasions, Alastair had always been careful to not show Leyah… all of him. He knew his size could be intimidating to most women, least of all to a virgin, and he wanted to ease Leyah into taking his cock. Not to mention becoming his sub.

  “Hello, Alastair,” Leyah greeted him, before lowering herself onto the blanket he’d spread out on the ground in the center of the garden’s maze.

  “Hello, my future bride,” Alastair responded with a grin so big he could feel its smugness. He watched as Leyah pushed her hair back behind her ears. How was it possible that she was so unbelievably beautiful? He didn’t understand it, but he would admire it every chance he got.

  “So, Mexoria Źeylήia, what are we having for our picnic lunch?” Leyah asked after the two of them had sat upon the blanket silently gazing at each other for long moments.

  Alastair cleared his throat, and surprisingly felt his face flush with embarrassment. He frowned. He’d never blushed or felt embarrassed before. What was it about Leyah that made him feel more vulnerable? He shook his head internally and turned to the overly large wicker, picnic basket he’d had Persephone bring out and set up for him. He’d felt unashamed by his request, although it was slightly awkward asking a woman he’d had a one-night stand with make up a picnic basket lunch for him and the woman he was planning to marry.

  Alastair glanced up at Leyah even as he opened the basket. He knew what was inside. He’d ordered it from the kitchen, but he wanted to see Leyah’s face when he brought each item out. He’d had the cook make foods that were both Malvidencian and Waldakan as a way of letting Leyah know he knew and was okay with the fact she was an immigrant of the country that formed the foundation of The Rebellion. He watched as her eyes widened, and she stared at him in fear. He reached a hand out to her, taking her hand in his own.

  “Sshh, calm down, miora ruĝa,” he soothed her. “I have known about you and Danorian for a while now.”

  Leyah gasped and Alastair chuckled.

  “Oh, Alastair, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I just want you to know that I don’t want any harm to come to you and your family. I mean, I didn’t even really do anything. I didn’t intend to meet you or to fall for you, it just happened and—” Leyah stammered out quickly, stopping only when Alastair put his hand over her mouth.

  “Darling, it is okay. I know. I’m not angry with you, or Danorian. I know you both were just doing what you thought was best. I find no fault with it. Now, since that secret is out of the way, can you relax more around me?” he asked her with a smile.

  Alastair could see the tension drain away from Leyah’s body as she relaxed. Alastair nodded and turned to the food he’d laid out on the blanket between them. He picked up a plate of lovmeda, which was a succulent fruit, Alastair was unsure of which one, that was drenched and soaked in caramel, until it infused every bite. When he’d first found out about the dish earlier that day while doing research on Waldakan dishes, he’d instinctively put a hand over his mouth, just thinking about the possible cavities he would get from eating the dish, those fears had been put to rest when he’d snuck a piece while waiting for Leyah to arrive. By soaking the fruit in caramel, the acidity from the fruit cut out much of the sugar, while still maintaining the taste of the caramel. It was a surprisingly delicious treat.

  He saw Leyah’s eyes light up with delight when she saw him pick up a piece of the fruit and hold it out for her to take a b
ite. The air caught in his lungs, his groin tightening when she wrapped her lips around the dripping purple fruit, licking away the juices from his fingers. He growled softly, his fingers sliding into Leyah’s mouth. Her tongue slid over and around each digit, her eyes never leaving his. When she’d finished swallowing the bite in her mouth and cleaned his fingers, Leyah released the digits with a pop, a seductive smile on her lips.

  “You are playing with fire, little one,” he warned her.

  Leyah quirked an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to be scared?” she asked with a saucy grin.

  Alastair wagged his finger in her direction.

  "Don’t wake up the lion," he warned her.

  Leyah merely smirked at him before she lifted another piece of fruit to her lips and bit into it, licking her lips seductively.

  Alastair growled, grabbed her hand and sucked the rest of the fruit into his mouth, along with her fingers. He chuckled when he heard the hitch in her breath. Two can play this game, he thought to himself. He looked up into Leyah's eyes and winked as he continued laving her slender fingers with his tongue, sucking them into the hot wetness of his mouth. When he was sufficiently satisfied, Alastair moved his mouth to Leyah's wrist, placing a gentle kiss there. He moved up her arm, nibbling, licking, and kissing up the honey brown skin of her limb. When he reached her neck, he kissed the flesh before biting it hard enough to leave a mark. Leyah's harsh groan above him, let him know she enjoyed the feeling of his teeth in her skin.

  Moving away from her neck, Alastair grabbed Leyah's head in his hands and pulled her lips up to meet his own. He placed a fierce, possessive kiss on her lips, tasting her, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He trailed the fingers of one hand down over her breasts and the curve of her hip, to her center. Tapping his fingers directly over her mound, Alastair growled at the heat he could feel emanating from her core.