by V Vee
“Danorian,” Algerone spoke without turning his gaze away from the palace gates which were opening for them to drive through.
“Iak, Mexoria Źeylήia?” Danorian responded immediately.
“Phretk,” Algerone reprimanded the other man. “How many times have I told you to call me Algerone?”
Danorian chuckled. “Mru, Mexoria Źeylήia, this I cannot do. It is highly improper and would see me arrested were I to call you thus in front of your kuthrar or kothrar. I shall continue to refer to you as such, if it is all the same to you.”
Algerone sighed in frustration. He ran his fingers through his hair, then remembering that he had an audience with his father and mother upon arrival, he set about smoothing the tendrils back into place, and straightening his clothes to make sure he was presentable. Once he was satisfied, he looked over at Danorian and leaned slightly towards the other man.
“Do you have any idea why my kothrar has demanded my speedy return to the palace?” Algerone asked.
Danorian glanced briefly at Algerone, before returning his gaze to observing their surroundings—always on the lookout for possible danger.
“I am afraid not. Though I have heard rumors of visitors in the palace, and Kra’ek Źeylήia, demanding to know where you were and wanting you within the walls of the palace by the time they came down for the morning meal.”
Dread clenched the inside of Algerone’s belly as he feverishly tried to remember who was travelling to the palace to visit on that day. And why, hadn’t his assistant contacted him to let him know? He would have been able to better prepare Valerie and the kids. Maybe he would not have even flown in this past week, but saved it for the following one, as was his original intent.
Now, apparently, he had all of the women in his life upset with him; and to please one meant to further anger, or hurt the other.
Before Algerone could further fall into the abyss of self-deprecation, the town car came to a stop in front of the palace steps, in the circular driveway. Algerone waited for his door to be opened by Danorian, as was custom, because while he was on the palace grounds, that did not mean he was completely safe. There had been more than one assassination attempt on different members of the royal family or even visiting dignitaries or presidents, just inside of the palace walls. So Algerone and his family lived under constant guard. Twenty-four/seven/three hundred and sixty five.
Algerone rose from the inside of the vehicle once Danorian assured him it was safe to exit. Straightening the bottom of his suit jacket, and straightening his royal sash on his shoulder, Algerone headed toward the doors of the palace, which opened before he had a chance to enter his private passcode into the keypad next to the doors. While he’d expected that someone would be looking out for him to arrive, it still surprised him to a certain degree, the swiftness to which the doors flew open.
Algerone stepped back for only a moment, before grinning broadly at the sight of his younger brother, Andreas, the fourth of the Smythe princes, standing on the other side. Andreas stood before Algerone fully attired in his military uniform. Pressed, red slacks, black button-down military uniform jacket, with gleaming gold buttons, tucked into his slacks, with a gold belt around his waist. The medals, ribbons, and pins that attested to his brothers rank, were affixed perfectly, and as Algerone looked down, he was proud to notice that his brother’s Italian leather loafers were polished to within an inch of their lives, and shone with a brilliance that almost hurt his eyes.
Algerone snapped to attention, bringing his right hand level with the edge of his eyebrow, his spine straight, feet together, and other hand hanging at his side, in a loose fist, in a salute to his brother. He held the position until Andreas, with a grin, saluted him back. Then, with loud laughter and exclamations of joy and greeting, Algerone threw his arms around his brother, happy when the embrace was returned.
He had two brothers serving in His Majesty’s military: Augustus and Andreas. And because of that, it was rare for the two of them to be in the palace. They were often off on missions, serving on tours, assisting other countries in times of disaster, or—as was the case in that moment—dealing with the kingdom’s rising problem of infiltration by those who only called themselves: “The Rebellion.” Algerone wasn’t exactly sure what they could be rebelling against: free education? Free healthcare? Care for the elderly, veterans of His Majesty’s military, and orphans? Or their laws protecting the citizens of Malvidence and its surrounding provinces from discrimination based on gender, sexuality, age, or race.
Algerone’s father told him that people just liked to complain, and with the stark differences between Malvidence and other countries, he was beginning to think his father was correct.
“Listen, bruthrar, we have time to catch up later. There is something you must know. Kothrar and Kuthrar have been meddling again, and this time you were their target. Since you weren’t here, they took it a step further than they usually do, no doubt to teach you a lesson only they are aware of, and I’m not so sure that they don’t mean to make you follow through,” Andreas said.
Algerone frowned at his brother as he stepped into their home fully, his shoes echoing on the marble floor of the entryway.
“Whatever do you mean, Andy?” Algerone asked.
Andreas grabbed Algerone’s elbow and started to tug him toward the stairs. “Come upstairs and I will tell you. We must hurry before they know that you’ve returned.”
Before Algerone could question his brother further, he heard it. The loud, squeal of a female that he’d hoped to never hear, see, or be around ever again.
That dread that had once been solely in the pit of his stomach flooded his entire building. Algerone was going to be sick.
Chapter Fourteen
V alerie was going to be sick.
Like truly, vomit up your soul sick.
She lay in her master bathroom and wondered if she’d updated her will and made sure that her children were going to be cared for. Because she was pretty sure she was going to die, right here in her bathroom, with one arm draped over the back of the toilet seat and her head resting on the edge.
Could one die from excessive vomiting due to pregnancy?
She’d have to look it up. She would ask Alexa but she was pretty sure if she opened her mouth, she was going to throw up…
Again.
For the fourth time that day.
She wasn’t sure what she’d done to the child inside of her, or what his or her ultimate purpose was going to be in life, but it was something pretty amazing either way, because they were trying to kill her. While her other pregnancies had been fraught with morning sickness, none of them had so plagued her by the insufferability of it all like this one seemed determined to do. And it was only the morning after she’d discovered she was expecting.
How had she gone for so long without knowing she was pregnant?
Valerie shook her head. Maybe it was all in her head. Yes, she’d had some issues with her appetite, and exhaustion in the past two and a half months, but after learning she was pregnant again, she now found herself hugging her toilet, thankful she was alone in her home for at least a few more hours.
After her parents’ anniversary party the night before, Valerie had asked her siblings to take the children for the night. They’d agreed, knowing her request wasn’t made simply out of a need for rest, but a desire to privately mourn the destruction of her marriage. Algerone’s leaving at the most inopportune moment. While the kids had been saddened by their father’s leaving, they’d been more excited by the prospect of spending time with their aunts and uncles, and getting a chance to be spoiled without their other siblings being present. Leon had taken AJ and Beaumont with him for the evening. Duan had taken Chikere with him, telling Valerie he was going to pick up his sons who were around the twins’ age. Valerie had wished him well dealing with three young boys, and sent her youngest son on his way. Ella had decided to take Dahni, knowing the youngest Smythe child would enjoy the toys, dolls, figu
rines, and shows she watched. Also knowing that Dahni wouldn’t be awake for too much longer and it would give her time to work on her research. While Merlina and Chiamaka had left the hotel parking lot with barely a wave, as they talked about going shopping as soon as they woke up.
Valerie had great siblings, a wonderfully supportive family, and parents who had known not to say anything to her after she’d apologized appropriately for Algerone’s abrupt departure. She’d been thankful for that, and after sending her brothers and sisters away with her children, and transferring money to each of them for clothes, food, and shopping the next morning, Valerie had climbed into her SUV, absent her children, and had gone home, ignoring the presence of the security detail that followed her.
She’d had a very emotionally exhausting night, which had been interrupted by nausea and vomiting in the early morning.
And not one call or text from her husband.
Not that she was upset about that or anything. She was still extremely angry and hurt over what had taken place the evening before. However, Algerone calling or texting her, or even attempting to speak to her via Skype or FaceTime would let her know he was sorry. The very idea that he’d taken her words to heart and with relief decided to not even try to reconcile with her, sent another sudder of nausea through her, and before she could stop herself, Valerie was once again hunched over the porcelain bowl in her bathroom, dry heaving because there was nothing left in her stomach to expel.
Sitting back down after a few moments, toilet flushed, and her face wiped clean of tears and bile, Valerie seriously contemplated her next step. Was she really going to file for a legal separation from a man whom she barely saw as it was? What would be the point? The end game for doing so? Was she looking to push him into making a decision? One that he hadn’t made in the past fourteen years? Or was she just putting off the inevitable? The dreaded “D” word, that both she and Algerone had agreed after a summer of bliss, a secret wedding, and a life-changing honeymoon fourteen years ago would never be an option for them?
Before Valerie would allow herself to sink further into the depressing thoughts threatening to take her hostage, she pushed herself to her feet with a groan, and walked to the sink. Grabbing her toothbrush, she gently brushed her teeth, trying not to gag at the motion or the taste of the minty Crest Pro-Health Whitening flavor. Once she was done, she washed her face, pulling her hair up into a sloppy bun on the top of her head. After rinsing and drying her skin, Valerie stared at herself in the mirror that covered half the wall, above the his and her sinks.
Her skin looked slightly gray, dry, and sallow from the morning sickness, despite the recent wash she’d given it. Her brown eyes appeared tired and sad, while her breasts did seem to be just a touch larger than before. Which should have been her first clue. While her natural tits were already full, they’d crossed over into almost too large for her frame. After five children, Valerie still wasn’t used to her new body. The bigger breasts, the soft belly, even after working out and toning, and the wider hips. And there was no even mentioning her ass. She’d more than once misinterpreted the distance from that mound of flesh and something or someone else, and caused damage.
And now she would be growing bigger, and wider. Great.
She wished she could place the blame solely on Algerone’s shoulders, but they’d never used condoms or any type of contraception when they were together. If it weren’t for the fact that they rarely saw each other she would probably have more than the five children with one on the way, that she did. It was purely a blessing that she didn’t.
Shaking her head, she stepped out of the bathroom and headed into her bedroom, staring at her bed with its mussed sheets. There were toys all over the floor, her clothes were strewn haphazardly on the back of her vanity chair and on the armrest of her reading chair in the corner. She should probably clean. She didn’t often get a chance to do so without being distracted or called away by the children, but the very thought of bending over, or the constant walking back and forth exhausted her.
Exhaling deeply, Valerie set out to some serious “adulting.” She started in her room then moved on to each of the kids’ rooms, collecting dirty laundry and walking them downstairs to start the first load. She pulled out the clothes that were dry and folded them, separating them out on the counter across from the washer and dryer. When that was complete, she went into the kitchen to clean the dishes that were leftover from the day before.
Stacking the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Valerie then headed back upstairs to grab her phone, sketchbook, and art supplies. While the kids were away, this would be a good time to finish her latest commission and perhaps get started on a piece purely for herself. Walking into her art studio on the first floor, she sat down in a chair, and turned on her “Creative Genius” playlist. It was an eclectic mix of music. It had everything from old school R&B like Smokey Robinson, The Manhattans, and Prince, to Broadway music like the Hamilton Soundtrack, the Rent Soundtrack, to pop singers like JoJo, Tori Kelly, Demi Lovato, and R&B singers like Beyonce, Tynisha Keli, and SoMo. There was even some K-Pop on the playlist such as Jay Park, BTS, and TVXQ.
Valerie got swept up in the music as her fingers, holding a sketching pencil, flowed across the page, filling the formerly blank white surface with the customer’s desired setting of an African sunset. Valerie was glad she had a picture to use as a source of inspiration since she had only been to Africa, namely Nigeria and Ghana, once, with Algerone. Her pencil snapped in her hand and she sighed.
Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Even while she tried to work, he seemed to invade her thoughts. Shaking her arms, Valerie sighed, and refocused on her sketch. When five minutes passed and she couldn’t get her attention back on her commission, Valerie decided to turn her mind onto a freestyle drawing.
Turning to a clean sheet, Valerie closed her eyes, exhaled and then opening her eyes, began to draw again, no clear image in mind. She simply allowed her heart and her muse to direct and guide the direction of her artistic energy.
When three hours had passed and her stomach growled to let her know that she needed to eat, Valerie blinked to really bring the sketch into focus for her conscious mind. What she saw broke her heart. Staring back up at her from the sketchbook was her husband’s face, his eyes looking lost, his lips turned down in a frown. The sight of it caused Valerie’s eyes to burn with tears. Slamming the sketchbook closed, Valerie rose.
The room swirled around for a second and she put out her hand, searching for the closest surface to balance on. Once she felt steady again, she mentally shook herself and headed for the laundry room to move the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer, and to start a new load, before she went to make herself—she looked at the clock—a late lunch.
Just as she finished wrapping her chicken wrap and sat down at the kitchen island, the front door opened.
“Mommy!” Chiamaka’s voice rang out.
“In here!” Valerie responded, placing her wrap down before taking a bite.
Chiamaka and Merlina stepped into the kitchen, both holding multiple shopping bags in their hands. Valerie raised her eyebrows at her youngest sister, before she smiled down at her daughter. She stood up from her chair, then crouched, spreading her arms for a hug.
“Hey Chia-Pet! Did you have fun with your Auntie Lina?” she asked.
Chiamaka nodded happily as she squeezed Valerie. “Yeah, I did! We went shopping and had smoothies, and Auntie Lina saw that guy from Grampy and Grammy’s party at the mall again.”
“Oh, really?” Valerie smirked at her sister. Their mother had been trying to push, Stefan Addimson, senator hopeful at her youngest sister for a while, much to her usually always compliant daughter’s dismay.
Merlina waved her hand at Valerie, a scowl on her beautiful face. “It was nothing. Purely a fluke, trust me. We saw him, said hello, and that was it.”
Chiamaka pushed away from Valerie and looked up Merlina, frowning. “No it wasn’t, Auntie Lina. You two w
ere arguing because he asked you why you kept running from him, and I said you weren’t, and you said you didn’t run from anyone, then he whispered in your ear, and then you said we had to go. Then we left and came home, even though you promised that I could ride the carousel before we did,” Chiamaka pointed out.
Valerie laughed, then covered her mouth when her sister narrowed her eyes at her. Leave it to a child to speak the truth and make liars out of adults when they were trying desperately to downplay a situation. How refreshing and how deliciously interesting.
Merlina cleared her throat. “Chia, remember when we had that talk about secrets?”
Chiamaka frowned, her eyebrows lowering, before her face brightened and she nodded. “You said that everything that happened at the mall was a secret between me and you and to not tell anyone and you would buy me my first car when I turned sixteen!”
Valerie shook her head. “Oh, Lina, bribery? Really?” she asked.
“What?” Lina shrugged. She looked back at Chiamaka and gave her a disappointed smile. “Well, now that you’ve told your mom, you broke our deal so I can’t buy you your first car when you’re sixteen.”
Chiamaka gasped. She wagged her head side to side. “But that’s not fair, Auntie Lina! Mommy says I have to tell her every time an adult tells me to keep a secret from her so that I’m safe. She said that there’s no secret an adult can ask me to hold that I can’t tell my mommy.” She crossed her arms and gave her aunt a mutinous expression.
Merlina glanced over at Valerie, who still kneeled in front of her daughter. Valerie merely shrugged. “She’s not wrong. I think she’s got you there, Auntie Lina.”
Merlina sighed in frustration. “Fine! Just don’t tell Grammy, okay?”
