by V Vee
“Yes, there are lessons on the Malvidencian laws, the leadership, the proper way to address members of the royal family, the advisors, visiting dignitaries. Proper attire. Our history. Our resources. Proper behavior for both you and the children,” the last brother, whom Valerie knew—by process of elimination—was Alastair.
“They’re children!” she reminded him with an incredulous tone.
Alastair shook his head. “It matters not. Had you and Algerone been married in and spent the last fourteen years in Malvidence, the young princes and princesses would have been receiving this education from their nannies. Which is yet another thing we must consider, you will need to hire a suitable nanny. One whom has been approved by the Crown…”
Valerie shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Val,” Algerone began.
Valerie would not be swayed. “No, Algerone. We had this conversation before when you were gone all of the time and it was just me. I raised these children, basically on my own, with the help of my family, and some friends, every so often. But it was mainly me. I will not have someone else come in and raise my children when I can do it so much better. They need me, and you. They need their parents.”
Algerone looked at Alastair who sighed. “That is a subject we can table and come back to at a later time.” He wrote something on the tablet he held in his arms. “For now, the biggest issues, and most pressing, are security, and appearance.”
Valerie spread out her hands. “We have security. Algerone made sure of that a long time ago. And what is wrong with the way my children and I dress?” She glanced down and winced. “Present attire, excluded.”
Alastair nodded. “Algerone has shown us photos of you and the children. You dress quite well… for America. However, you do not dress like a royal in Malvidencian. You don’t even dress in an acceptable way for the royal family in England, and the kingdom of Malvidencian is less progressive in terms of fashion.”
Valerie narrowed her eyes at her brother-in-law. “So what are you trying to say, exactly?” she asked.
“I’m saying you and the children will all need an extensive new wardrobe. Casual, formal, eveningwear, dinnerwear, thronewear, winterwear, summer, equestrian, sporting gear…” Alastair started, typing and marking things on his tablet not once looking up at her. “You will of course need maternity clothing for all of those different events, things that are in fashion, as well clothing for when you are no longer pregnant. You will need to have a stylist come in to do your hair and makeup…”
“No one is touching my hair,” Valerie stated emphatically.
Alastair looked up at her then, his brows pulled down in confusion, no doubt because of her tone. Valerie noticed that her other brothers-in-law were all snickering at Alastair and Algerone was looking anywhere but at her. When Alastair opened his mouth to speak, Valerie held up her hand to silence him.
“Look, I have no doubt that there are certain things I have no choice in, clothing, royalty lessons, things like that, but there are a certain things that I have to put my foot down on. One of those is in regards to having a nanny for my children. That is something that my husband and I will be discussing, it is not a matter that is up for discussion with the Crown, or the kingdom, or whomever else. The second, is my hair. I am sure the stylist you had in mind, or the ones in Malvidence are very nice, or very good at their jobs, but unless they are black, and more importantly, black women, they won’t know how to take care of my hair the way it needs to be. My daughters and my sons as well. So, I will find someone here in the States to do my hair, just let me know what is and is not acceptable for a Princess of Malvidence, and I will make my choice bassed on that,” she told him in no uncertain terms.
Alastair turned to look at Algerone who merely shrugged at him before looking back at Valerie with an indulgent grin on his face. “All of this can wait, love. Right now, the most important thing is making sure you are taken cared of. That you are healthy, the baby is well, and getting you to a point where you can be discharged. Once we get to that point, then we can discuss the rest of it. How about that?” he asked her.
Valerie inhaled deeply. Algerone was right, of course. Just thinking about obtaining a new wardrobe, cutting or styling her hair in a way deemed “acceptable” by the kingdom of Malvidence, and nannies, and royalty lessons, was stressing her out, and she distinctly remembered the doctor saying she needed to remain calm. Taking a cleansing breath, Valerie closed her eyes and centered herself. When she opened her eyes again, she realized that everyone—her children included—had gone still and was staring at her. She smiled at them, serenely, and nodded.
“You’re right, Algie,” she said.
“Algie,” Alfie snorted.
“Shut up, thived isri,” Algerone muttered.
Augustus gasped. “Algerone! Language!” he rebuked his eldest brother with a grin on his face.
“What did he say?” AJ asked.
“He said—” Alfie started.
“Nothing. Absolutely, nothing,” Valerie interrupted the youngest Smythe prince. She glared at him. She did not need her eldest son, who was only thirteen years old, to know how to say asshole in another language. She had her hands full with him as it was.
“Okay, so now that we have that settled,” Valerie folded her hands on top of her lap. “Why don’t you all tell me a little about yourselves?”
Valerie could tell by the smile that spread across her husband’s face, that she’d done the right thing. Yes, there was a lot to do in regards to making her “kingdom ready”, but at the end of the day, this was the first time she was meeting her in-laws, her husband’s brothers. Just as she’d been nervous the first time she’d introduced Algerone to her family, she was certain that he felt the same now that the adrenaline had worn off some. Though it was quite different. Algerone had met her parents and siblings in her parents’ home, at a family dinner, just a few months after they’d gotten married, and she’d found out she was pregnant. Her parents and siblings were successful by American standards to a certain degree, but they were not royalty, by any stretch of the imagination—even if her father did keep insisting that his family were descendants of African royalty with ties to the British royalty on his mother’s side—no one was looking down at him, and trying to get him to conform or change to fit in. They’re only concern had been if he’d loved Valerie, if he intended to take care of her, support her, encourage her, be faithful to her, be a good husband and to be a good father to any children that they had together.
No, Valerie definitely had the uphill battle here. While she sensed that her brothers-in-law were accepting of her and their nieces and nephews, she could also tell by the way they held themselves, and the not-quite-subtle glances they kept sending each other, that Valerie had yet to meet the biggest obstacles in her marriage to Algerone. It wouldn’t be dressing properly, knowing the laws, or behaving like a true princess. It was definitely going to be King Callum and Queen Araminta Smythe, the King and Queen of Malvidence, her father and mother-in-law.
Valerie was suddenly very glad she was in a hospital, connected to oxygen, and with doctor supervision. She had a feeling this was going to be the only rest she was going to get for quite some time.
Chapter Nineteen
V alerie stared in shock at the number of people that were filling her hospital room. The doctor had told she and Algerone that she would be able to be discharged later that afternoon. Valerie had been very excited by the prospect of getting out of her “husband-royalty-imposed” imprisonment. However, she barely had a moment to really enjoy the doctor’s words before Algerone was on the phone with her sister, Merlina, who rushed over to sit with Valerie and figure out exactly how she wanted her hair, makeup and clothing to look when she left the hospital in a few hours. Valerie had wanted to ask Algerone why he hadn’t called Ella, but she’d known. Ella was extremely smart, but she dressed exactly like what she was… a nerd. With graphic tees, long-sleeved shirts beneath them, and jeans. The only time Ella
dressed differently was when she went to work, or when there was a special event, case in point, their parents’ anniversary party.
Whereas Merlina, she dressed as if she could be sitting down with President Barack and First Lady Michelle Obama at any point in the day. So Algerone’s call to her wasn’t all that much of a surprise. What had been a shock to Valerie however, was the fact that Merlina had so many high-end stylists and fashion designers in her cellphone. Once Valerie, Alastair, Algerone, and Merlina had all agreed on a look for Valerie, Merlina made a few calls and before she knew it, her private hospital room, that she’d thought too big for simply her at one point, suddenly seemed too crowded.
“Your Highness, do you need any help getting dressed?” Shí asked as she held up the scooped necked, thin-strapped, light pink dress Valerie had chosen to wear.
Valerie turned to look at the young girl who couldn’t have been any more than twenty and shook her head. “No, thank you, Shí. I can get dressed all on my own. I appreciate your assistance, though.” She took the hanger that the dress hung from in her hand and headed to the bathroom. Her hair had been into a bun at the back of her head, with a section of her black hair curled, oiled, and treated, until there were tight, spiral, natural looking curls at the front of her head, pulled to the side, and clipped with a diamond hairclip given to her by Algerone just that morning. It would barely be visible beneath the large, black hat she would be wearing on her head, but Valerie had been told that there would be photographers and journalists outside of the hospital and at least one would take a picture that would capture the hairpin.
Knowing all about American photojournalists and paparazzi after having spent so many years dodging their poking and prodding into her personal life as they tried to discover the identity of the father of her children, and the man responsible for the wedding bands on her finger, Valerie had just shrugged at their explanations. Her makeup was minimal. She’d insisted on the use of Fenty Beauty which felt light on her skin and matched her skintone better than any other cosmetic brand out there. There was light foundation, mascara, eyeliner, and pink lipgloss, but that had been it. After having a nail tech come in and give her a manicure and pedicure, all that was left was for Valerie to get dressed.
As she headed to the bathroom, Merlina handed her a Frederick’s of Hollywood bag. Valerie looked at the bag then up at her sister and quirked an eyebrow.
Merlina shrugged. “What? You need underwear, and you’re going to be facing a swarm of sharks and vultures who are going to be smiling and shouting questions at you, all the while hoping that you slip up and do something or say something controversial or scandalous so they can get ratings, or an increase in traffic and they can make money. They are going to be looking for blood in the water, big sister. You’re more confident when you feel sexy. You said so yourself. So put them on,” she said.
Valerie leaned over and hugged her sister, before she walked into the restroom and closed the door behind herself. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, stunned at the glamorous, and sophisticated reflection looking back at her. Shaking her head, knowing there was a roomful of people waiting for her, not to mention the fact that her husband, his brothers, her parents, siblings, and her children were waiting out in the waiting room. Taking a deep breath, Valerie set her clothes on the towel rack, and set about to get ready for her first official debut as the Princess of Malvidence.
Algerone tried to hold onto Dahni, and put on the tiny white Mary Jane shoes the little girl insisted on kicking off her feet. Dahni squirmed and protested, her buttercream yellow dress with its white frill at the hem and around the sleeves, bunching up around her chunky knees. Valerie had been able to get Dahni and Chiamaka to sit still for her while she’d done the girls hair. Chiamaka’s light brown hair had been curled and half pulled up into a ponytail at the top of her head, her bangs sweeping to the right side of her face, the rest of her hair flowing down her back to rest inches below her shoulders. Dahni sported several tiny ponytails around her head. When Algerone had asked his wife about the style, she’d merely shrugged and told him it was “Bantu knots but not.” Algerone hadn’t even been sure what Bantu knots were. Thank God for Google, because now he knew. He was certain he could duplicate his youngest daughter’s hairstyle if need be.
Their sons: AJ, Beaumont, and Chikere all had their hair trimmed and styled. Valerie refused to make them all have their hair styled similarly, the way Algerone and his brothers had been forced to when they were younger. Instead, AJ’s hair was swept back from his forehead, his curls brushed straight, and the sides shorter than the top. Beaumont’s curls were trimmed, and hung around his face like a halo. Whereas Chikere had whispered in his mother’s ear, and when Algerone had seen him next, his hair had been braided back in a series of “cornrows.” All three of the boys wore suits without ties. AJ in a dark blue, with a pink button-down shirt beneath, Beaumont wearing a grey suit with a white button-down shirt and a green and grey patterned vest. Chikere wore an all-black suit, with a black button-down shirt. When Algerone looked at him, he felt as if he were looking at Andreas when he was younger, and indeed he noticed his youngest son and his second youngest brother were extremely close. It was a slight cause of concern for Algerone. Andreas was a member of his Majesty’s military, an ambassador and member of the Malvidence Rescue Squad, however, he also took care of other unsavory matters for the Crown that they never spoke of. He and Chikere were both dressed in all black, even down to their shoes, and as Algerone looked over at them now, he saw the two of them speaking to each other softly.
A pang of envy shot through him. Chikere didn’t speak much, to anyone, and when he did it was often soft and in short sentences. However, he seemed to be holding an entire conversation with his uncle, something he’d never done with Algerone, his own father.
Just another way that I’ve failed my children.
Chiamaka skipped over to Algerone, who’d just gotten Dahni’s shoes back on, her pale pink dress swirling around her knees. She even had a pink carnation pinned to the side of her hair. Algerone thought she looked completely adorable. She’d asked for a pair of white gloves to go with her outfit, but Valerie had talked her out of it, telling her they were simply leaving the hospital to go home, nothing fancy.
Not that she knew of anyway. Algerone had every intention of showing off his family now that everyone knew who they were. He was taking them out to have lunch, then they were going to do a bit of shopping, before returning home. He just hoped it wouldn’t exhaust or put too much strain on Valerie.
“Kothrar? When is Kuthrar coming out of the room? I’m bored!” Chiamaka asked, swinging from side to side, watching her skirts with a smile on her face.
Algerone reached out and pulled his daughter close to him, kissing her forehead. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m sure it will be soon. Remember Kuthrar has a lot more to do than you do, and she has to be careful, because she just got out of the hospital,” he told her.
“Because she has a baby in her belly?” Chiamaka asked.
Algerone grinned widely, a lump forming in his throat. “That’s right, beautiful. She has another baby inside of her.”
Chiamaka leaned over to whisper—loudly—in Algerone’s ear. “Is this baby going to be better than Dahni? Because all she does is sleep, poop, cry and break stuff.”
Algerone chuckled and noticed his brothers and in-laws were all trying to cover their amusement. He shook his head fondly at his daughter, before tugging her close to him so she could see Dahni who was at that moment, swinging his phone around in the air. When had she gotten that?
“Maybe not at first. When babies are small they can’t do much, so they cry to let people know when they want or need something, but when they get older they do stop crying so much, and they start talking and playing,” he informed her. “You cried, slept, pooped, and broke stuff a lot when you were a baby.”
Chiamaka’s eyes widened. “No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did, Chia-P
et,” AJ said, rolling his eyes, then returning his focus back to whatever game he was playing on his phone.
“Really?” Chiamaka gasped.
Algerone nodded. “Yes. Your mother sent me pictures, videos, and I would watch you on Skype when I couldn’t be there. You were very precocious—active,” he corrected when he saw Chiamaka’s eyebrows pull down at his use of the complicated word.
“What about Chi?” Chiamaka asked pointing at her twin.
Algerone shook his head, smiling at his youngest son who looked over at him silently. “Chikere has always been very quiet. He watched over you a lot while you played, and when you hurt yourself, he would hug you, then go back and sit to play quietly. I have lots of pictures of that.” Chikere gave a tiny grin, before focusing on his uncle again.
“Besides, Dahni isn’t so bad. I think maybe she’s going to be a bit like you when she gets older,” Algerone said.
Chiamaka narrowed her eyes at her baby sister, before she reached out to take Dahni’s hand. Dahni gripped Chiamaka’s fingers and giggled. Chiamaka smiled and shrugged. “I guess that would be okay. I don’t mind if the new baby is like her then.”
“Good,” Algerone said, kissing both of his girls’ foreheads before sitting back to wait on his wife.
“You did very well just then, son,” Lloyd said from next to Algerone’s shoulder. Algerone looked up at his father-in-law and felt pride and gratitude swell his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time his own father had praised him. The encouragement felt nice.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Lloyd simply patted Algerone’s shoulder before moving off.
“Man, I like Valerie’s family,” Augustus said. Algerone nodded and opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sight of the door opening and the flood of stylists, makeup artists, and manicurists coming out of his wife’s room. Merlina came out of the door then, Augustus groaning beside him. Algerone narrowed his eyes at his brother. Augustus lifted his hands. “Sorry, bruthrar, but your wife’s sisters are hot. Too bad they’re both taken.”
