by V Vee
Algerone waved away her question. “Nothing. They’re just trying to scare you off,” he told her.
“Well, they are doing a bang up job of it,” she said through gritted teeth.
Algerone lifted Dahni up into his arms when the young woman styling her, moved away to the rolling clothes closet. He stepped close to Valerie, and she inhaled the intoxicating and comforting scent of his own unique scent combined with his cologne. She wanted to smile at the realization that he was wearing the Cool Water scent she’d purchased for him, for his birthday.
“You have nothing to be nervous or afraid of,” he assured her. “You are already one of the most sophisticated, classy, regal, and definitely the most beautiful and poised woman I have ever met. You will be fine.”
Valerie wasn’t so sure about that, but she nodded her head anyway. Algerone stared at her for a long moment staring at her. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he’d apparently found it, after a couple of minutes passed. He nodded then glanced over his shoulder, calling to three people on the other side of the room, who were holding a conversation, and watching her every so often.
“Anjelik, Torrance, and Vrashell,” he introduced them to her. “they will be working with Alastair to find you the right clothing.”
“I have always wanted to design a look for someone as gorgeous as you,” Torrance said, a grin splitting his olive-skinned face.
“Me too,” Alastair murmured beneath his breath from next to her. Valerie looked over at her brother-in-law and saw an expression on his face that gave her pause. She was just about to question him or call him out on it, when one of the designers: Vrashell, if Valerie remembered her name correctly, touched her shoulder. Vrashell was statuesque, dark-skinned woman, her skin a shade darker than Valerie’s. She had a very slender frame, long toned legs, a tiny waist, and small breasts. Her nails were manicured, the tops of them decorated in green, silver, and blue. Her red hair, which when Valerie looked at it closer, she could see was a lace-front wig, was pulled up into a top bun.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. We’re going to make sure you look amazing and fit right in with the royal family,” she told Valerie.
Valerie frowned for a moment. She wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to fit in. That wasn’t exactly her style. She shook herself internally. No, no. She couldn’t make waves. Not yet, the people of Malvidence and her in-laws, the King and Queen, had yet to meet her and to get to know her. She would make a good impression and make sure they knew she was up to the task of being not only Algerone’s wife, but his princess, their princess, as well. Only then would she do away with what appeared to be clothing and attire from the Victorian era.
She clapped her hands with a forced smile of enthusiasm. “I trust you. Let’s turn me into a princess.” She spread her hands open and gestured to her body. “Do with me as you will.”
Algerone cleared his throat. “Let’s keep it strictly to clothes and hair, shall we?” he suggested, his blue eyes flashing with barely contained aggression and possessiveness. Valerie let out a snort of amusement and turned to the three people in charge of making sure she looked like a princess, and her brother-in-law who was in charge of making sure she behaved like one.
Torrance was a tall, black man. His skin was a deep umber brown color, with copper undertones. His eyes were a startling grey and Valerie found the contrast between his eyes and his skin tone fascinating and beautiful. Torrance had full lips, a slender nose with wide nostrils, high cheekbones, and while he wasn’t completely toned, he was slender. His hands delicate looking and the purple buttoned-down shirt, tucked into a pair of grey trousers, highlighting the copper tones in his skin. He wasn’t speaking as he walked towards Valerie, but his eyes gleamed with excitement and determination. Valerie stood still as he walked around her. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Could he see the exhaustion she tried to hide but seemed to wear as a coat around her? Could he tell that she was just on the verge of either puking or stuffing her face with food? Oh, the perks of being pregnant. But, as Torrance reached up and touched her hair she realized he was her hair dresser and like almost every other hair stylist that had come before, he was fascinated by her hair.
Because of her father’s Bajan heritage—with a bit of British and Trinidadian mixed in--Valerie's hair was thick, curly, and when not properly treated with oils, coarse. But when she’d been taking care of it, going to the salon—with people who knew how to handle her hair—her hair was long, thick, curly, and soft. She looked every bit the dark-skinned, Caribbean fantasy, long curly hair, and curvy figure. Her hair wasn’t something she allowed people to see often, choosing instead to keep it braided in a crown around her head and weave sewed in, or a lace-front wig on top. It was much easier to deal with than taking care of her own hair. Valerie didn’t consider herself lazy, as a matter of fact, she knew she wasn’t, but being a mother to five children, working as an artist, and taking care of bills, as well as being married to a husband, who up until now was absent more than he was present, did not give her much time to spend taking care of her hair.
So she knew what was going to come out of Torrance’s mouth before he even said it. “Oh, honey! When was the last time you had a hot oil treatment?” he asked. He tsked and shook his head. “It’s not too bad, but, I hope you are going to have some black people over there in Malteese taking care of your hair, like it needs to be,” he said with a squint.
“It’s Malvidence,” Algerone corrected with a frown as Torrance continued to finger and stroke Valerie’s hair. Valerie snorted as she noticed the jealousy and possessiveness that covered her husband’s face. When she looked back at Torrance, he merely winked at her and took her hair out of its ponytail, running his fingers through it. She almost laughed when she realized that Torrance was trying to make Algerone jealous, even though—judging by the discreet rainbow ring on his right ring finger—he was not interested in her body sexually at all.
“Don’t you think that’s enough?” Algerone growled as he made a step toward them.
“Your Highness, I’m afraid I’m going to need you to keep Princess Dahni still or I’m going to accidentally poke her with this pin,” the young lady told Algerone, a number of straight pins hanging from her lips, one in her left hand, and her right hand holding the fabric of the pale-yellow dress Dahni was now wearing.
“Be sure that you don’t poke my daughter, or draw blood from her, no matter what actions I take, or you will feel the punishment of the Crown of Malvidence,” Algerone said harshly, and Valerie watched as his brothers all stood straighter, crossing their arms and glaring down at the young seamstress.
Valerie dropped her jaw in shock, incredulous. They could not be serious! Realizing that they were, she held up a finger to Anjelik, Torrance, and Vrashell, she marched over to the young woman and stood next to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She glared up at her husband, then narrowed her eyes at each of her brothers-in-law.
“Are you for real, right now?” she asked them, rolling her eyes. “She is not responsible if you’re too busy being a Neanderthal, trying to piss around me so everyone knows I belong to you—even though nobody is doubting our relationship—that you wind up getting our daughter hurt while she’s being fitted for a new wardrobe, one you and your brothers insisted she needed? Well, I’m coming after you. And you alone. Not her,” she pointed at the pale woman, who couldn’t be more than twenty-three. “And you’re all going to stop flexing in my kitchen like you’re going to do something to someone in here. You may all be princes in Malvidence, but you’re in America now. The rules here are different. So, you will be nice to those in the service, creative, and domestics industry, because you need them, got it?”
Valerie was very pleased when all five men nodded at her. “Good. Glad to know we all understand each other.” She glanced down. “Let me know if he gives you any more problems…”
“Bianca,” the young girl answered.
Valerie nodded
and smiled. “Bianca. Thank you for your help. You’re doing a great job.”
“Thank you,” Bianca replied. With a final pat to her shoulder, Valerie walked back over to her own stylist, manicurist, and hairdresser, who were all looking at her with awe stamped on their faces.
“What?” she asked.
Anjelik shook her head, her black and pink streaked hair whipping across her pale, slender face. Her slender, black eyes, pixie nose, and pink mouth gave testament to her Asian ethnicity, but Valerie would not give into the curiosity inside of her that had her wanting to ask the other woman if she or her family were immigrated from Korea as she suspected.
“No one’s ever stood up for us like that,” Anjelik said. “Especially not a client.”
Valerie frowned. “What?”
Vrashell shrugged. “Yeah, we’ve been yelled at, berated, had things thrown at us, not been paid, sometimes attacked, by clients, sometimes by their staff or significant others, because they either don’t look exactly how they want, it cost more than they expected, or…” she trailed off.
Valerie glanced over at Algerone who held Dahni with a scowl on his face for Bianca. “Or they end up doing something and cause themselves to be hurt or make a mistake,” she surmised.
All three simply nodded. Valerie thought for a long moment, before an idea formed in her mind, without taking a moment to think it over, she asked, loud enough to be overheard, “You all should just come work for me and the children in Malvidence. I’m going to need stylists, manicurists, and a hairdresser who can handle the kingdom’s first black princess, and the kids will need the same.” She looked over at Algerone and noticed him giving her a speculative look. She shifted on her feet under his intense gaze, hoping her face didn’t give her away too much.
“I believe Her Highness is correct,” Algerone said after a long moment. “Barring any security matters come up during the deep, deep security check the palace will have to conduct on each one of you, for anyone who would like to join the staff of my wife and children as their stylists, just inform my brother, Prince Alastair, he is the royal advisor and assistant to the King.”
There was excited murmuring and Valerie smiled at her husband before turning away. She would still have to endure the princess lessons, but at least she had made a step into having her voice heard and making a decision. Putting some Americans on staff. Ones who would help her to stay grounded and also help to bring the kingdom of Malvidence into the twenty-first century.
Malvidence won’t know what hit it.
He grit his teeth as he heard Prince Algerone agree with his “wife” about bringing more Americans into Malvidence. Didn’t the man know that there were more important matters to take care of than trying to please that black woman? Prince Algerone needed to focus on his own people. There were so many problems. So much suffering. King Callum and Queen Araminta had done nothing to help those who needed them the most. It was up to Prince Algerone when he took the throne, which would happen much sooner than he expected, but only if things went according to plan, and right now they weren’t.
He had to get rid of the American bitch and her children, then he had to get Algerone to marry the woman he’d been promised to long ago. Only then could things proceed as planned.
He saw one of the children looking at him, quiet, his emotionless eyes assessing, and he felt a shiver race up his spine. That one was creepy. He had a feeling that little boy was dangerous to everything he was attempting to accomplish.
Yes, it was past time for Valerie and all of her children to die.
Chapter Twenty-Five
V alerie sat on board the private plane of the royal family of Malvidence, trying desperately not to vomit all over her new lavender outfit. It wasn’t something she would have normally chosen for herself, but she’d wanted to make a good first impression before she started asserting her opinions and will about her clothing, her hair, and her children. Gone were her cutoff jeans, sweatpants, baggy t-shirts, and screen tees that she’d worn around the house while spending time with the kids or painting. Well, they weren’t so much gone, as they just hadn’t been packed amongst the mountainous amount of clothing, shoes, toys, and other essentials that Algerone and his brothers had deemed “acceptable” for their trip to Malvidence.
Though Valerie was pretty sure this wasn’t just a trip. She was almost certain her husband was moving—or attempting to move—them over to his country. Valerie would let him think he was pulling something over on her, but she was aware of the plotting he and his brothers were up to at the behest of their parents. Queen and King or not, mother and father-in-law or not, no one dictated where Valerie got to live, how she got to dress, and how she got to raise her children. Her country may not be the best right now, but she still had democracy and freedom and she didn’t care if she’d married a prince, she’d cut a bitch before she let anyone take that from her.
She turned her head to look over at Algerone who sat across the aisle from her, his head bent over a stack of documents as he talked with Alastair, Augustus, and Andreas. She wondered what they were talking about so intently, though she was sure it had something to do with her and the kids.
“You know he would never let anything happen to you and your children,” a deep voice said close to her.
Valerie turned her head to the right and saw that Alfie had taken the seat across the table from her, placing Chiamaka on his lap. Valerie had decided to give all of the younger kids a snack to help with the change in air pressure on their tiny ears, AJ and Beaumont had flown before and had gum in their pockets. As soon as they got ready to take off, Dahni had started to whine, and Valerie and Algerone had been ready with raisins and gummi bears to hand out. Not thirty minutes into the flight, Dahni and Chiamaka had fallen asleep. The excitement of the day catching up to them apparently.
She nodded at her youngest brother-in-law. “I know he will try his hardest to protect us from every single thing that could hurt us, but he can’t. It’s impossible,” she shook her head fondly at Alfie when he lowered his eyebrows in confusion and opened his mouth to argue. “I’ve been a parent, a mother for thirteen years, Alfie, trust me, I know. And my mother? She became a parent in 1980, and this is the same advice she gave me after over three decades of motherhood. Despite your best efforts, despite your every wish, your every prayer, in spite of every single thing you try, your child, your children are going to be hurt. Physically, mentally, emotionally. It’s inevitable. Because life is painful. Reality is hurtful. And people are cruel, mean, and assholes. However, your job, our jobs as parents is not to wrap our children in bubble wrap and prevent them from living and experiencing life so that they are never hurt, our job is to provide a place of safe harbor, so that they can come to us and heal, be encouraged, be loved, be built back up so that they can go out and face the world again. We’re there to bandage the wounds, provide advice, our experiences, be a guide, but then, we let them go out and live again, because otherwise they die from stagnation and it’s our fault.”
Alfie was looking at her with an intense look of consideration that made her slightly uncomfortable, then he nodded. “Thank you, sister.”
Valerie grinned. “You’re very welcome, brother.”
Valerie knew their moment of sincere, emotional connection had passed when a wolfish grin came onto Alfie’s face and he leaned forward. “So, will you tell me about your friend, Laeticia, then?”
Valerie threw back her head and laughed. She reached out to give Alfie a sisterly pat on the cheek. “Oh, my little prince, Teesh would chew you up and spit you out. Have you rocking in the corner, begging for mercy and your mother,” she warned him.
Alfie’s eyes blazed and he took her hand in his. “Yes. Please.”
Valerie blinked at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Um, since we’re making requests,” Augustus called out from across the aisle, “I would like to formally ask for your friend Helen’s contact information.”
Valerie raised her eyebrows as she saw Augustus clench his jaw, his dark blue eyes flashing with irritation and possessiveness when his brothers all laughed. Hmmm, interesting, she thought to herself. He’s behaving as if he really cares about her and I’ve just denied him something that is really his. But I’m sure he’s only looking for sex and Helen is still a virgin. No, I’m looking out for my friend, and doing him a favor.
“As for you,” Valerie said, pointing at Alfie after giving herself a mental shake. “I know Laeticia is fiery and fun and outrageous and attractive—”
“Sexy as hell,” Alfie interrupted her.
Valerie nodded. “Okay, sexy as hell. But you are a prince, with a reputation to think about, and while I know you all are known as bad boys, you still toe the line of respectability just a bit so as to not completely ruin your parents’ name or to disgrace the Crown. I love Laeticia, but she doesn’t care about titles, money, or who has how much money. And I know,” she held up her hand to prevent him from speaking, “that sounds like the perfect woman for you when you’re a prince and have more money than G-d, but it’s not good when you’re a prince and reputation is everything. Teesh goes to clubs and gets drunk, she has tattoos, and she will get in a fight. She’s great as a friend, wonderful as my children’s godmother, and she loves hard and fiercely, and is loyal. She will make some man a great wife, but I don’t think she would be a good princess. At least not with the restrictions and rules you all would try to put on her.”
The plane seemed almost eerily quiet after that, and Valerie looked around to see why that was. She realized then that her husband and his brothers were all looking at Alfie. Alfie who was staring at her with an unblinking and fierce expression on his face.
