The Royal Nanny

by V Vee

  When a young Aa’Leyah came bounding into the bathroom, the steam from the bathwater was already rising in the air. She threw herself at her mother, giggling when the older woman squealed and threw out a hand to prevent the both of them from falling.

  “Kutíbābā, you should have seen Kotíbābā! We were on our horses racing and he tried to jump the fence and was thrown into the mud when he stopped,” Aa’Leyah giggled.

  Queen Mwassaa’s eyebrows rose. “Your Kotíbābā was thrown from a horse?”

  Aa’Leyah nodded her head emphatically, a wide smile of amusement splitting her face.

  Queen Mwassaa shook her head. “I do not believe it. What animal would dare to throw the king?”

  Aa’Leyah covered her mouth, her eyes dancing in the light as her entire body practically shook with glee. Queen Mwassaa found herself grinning back. Her daughter’s joy was extremely infectious, it was one of the reasons she was so beloved by the people of Waldakan. The young girl was the first princess born to the Zameer royal line, in line for the throne, who’d survived past infancy in over one hundred years. Prince Waruhiu had only given birth to daughters, one of whom had died at a young age, and the others who were completely barren.

  Aa’Leyah was a blessing and a miracle to her people, and she didn’t even know it. Queen Mwassaa could only hope the line would continue once the young woman married in eight years, as decreed by tradition.

  “It was Khalfani,” Aa’Leyah answered.

  Queen Mwassaa’s eyes widened. “And why was your Kotíbābā riding your horse?” she asked.

  Aa’Leyah merely shrugged and the queen simply waited. Aa’Leyah sighed and leaned back, still sitting on her mother’s lap as the bathwater continued to fill the large tub in the background. The little girl fiddled and played with the fringe on her mother’s royal tunic, her bottom lip in between her teeth.

  “Kotíbābā and I made a bet that he could ride my horse better than me—” Aa’Leyah began.

  “Better than you could,” the queen gently corrected.

  Aa’Leyah nodded. “Better than I could, and I told him that Khalfani was special and only liked me, but that I could ride his horse, Ojore, better than he ever has.” The young girl shrugged. “I won.”

  The queen chuckled softly. Her husband would never learn that their daughter had an affinity for animals, and for people as well. She could tame the most aggressive of beasts without breaking a sweat, and they would forever be devoted to her, and yet others struggled to even get close to them. A warm shiver snaked its way up the queen’s spine as a feeling of premonition overtook her senses. It was as if the gods were warning—or rather informing—her that Aa’Leyah’s skill and affinity for soothing beasts would come in handy when the young princess was much older.

  “Well, your Kotíbābā should have known better, huh?” the queen asked with a smile.

  Aa’Leyah nodded with a giggle, happy that she wasn’t in trouble. The young girl frowned when she noticed the water in the bathtub. Queen Mwassaa turned the faucet handle, shutting off the hot water, and let a little cold water run in the tub as well, before turning it off as well scant moments later.

  “Kutíbābā?” Aa’Leyah’s voice was hesitant as she stood and began to undress.

  “Fielaank?” the queen responded, looking at her daughter as the little girl frowned at the water. Was something wrong with the bathtub? She’d been so sure to check. Making sure there was no foreign substance in the tub that would have an adverse effect on her child, and even checking the water with a special tool to ensure it was safe.

  “Why do you always run such hot water for my baths?” Aa’Leyah asked.

  Queen Mwassaa breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know there was nothing wrong with the bath, and her child was simply being her usual inquisitive self.

  “That is the way you have always liked it, ever since you were a babe.” The queen smiled fondly at her daughter. “When you were much smaller, if your father or I tried to put you in a bathtub and the water wasn’t hot, you would scream and cry. We were worried, of course, because babies can’t be put into water that is too hot, but you wouldn’t tolerate anything else.” The queen shook her head as she recalled the many times Aa’Leyah had screamed and attempted to crawl out of the tub, or even the shower, when she’d been much younger if the water wasn’t hot enough. “We flew over a number of doctors asking them if they could explain it. None of them could, they gave us all manner of explanations: neuropathy, a disorder in your hypothalamus that causes you to feel the cold on a much more sensitive and deeper level than others, a disorder in your cerebral cortex, an extremely thin layer of skin that caused the cold to penetrate quicker than it should, a lot of things. But all of it was disproved with tests and by other doctors. Finally, we took you to the temple. There we spoke to the priest and he told us, quite simply that your skin was tougher, your spirit and soul stronger, and your brain conditioned to handle more adversity and “heat” because of your destiny. That it was nothing medical, nothing scientific, nothing that could be explained by man, but something the gods had given to you especially because of their purpose for your life.”

  The queen wanted to laugh when her daughter stared at her with disbelief and suspicion, then after a few moments she shrugged. “Okay, if you say so, Kutíbābā.”

  And like that, the conversation was over.

  Leyah snapped out of her ruminations and focused back on what she was doing in the present. She’d been washing with an alluring scent of lavender and vanilla, but the water had grown cold as she remembered that moment with her mother. She shivered and gritted her teeth as she reached out to turn off the tepid water. While she’d thought her mother had been spewing a lot of bullshit her way when she was a kid, Leyah had to admit that taking extremely hot showers and baths had been the only way she could bathe. It was the same with washing her hands. She sighed as she stepped out of the shower, her feet resting on the bathmat that lay just outside of the glass enclosure, and reaching out for a towel, she thoroughly dried herself.

  She walked over to the small bag Danorian had given her when she’d first arrived and dug through it to find something to change into. Her eyebrows rose at the appearance of lavender colored, lace underwear and bra with lace wrapped around the straps. She shook her head, determined not to think about Danorian picking out her undergarments, and put them on, before slipping on the white, satin pyjama pants, and the button-up, white, satin pyjama top.

  She walked back into the bathroom and sat at the vanity, her eyes moving over the hair products that sat atop it. She wondered if they had anything for black hair. Her gaze roved over the various gels, hairsprays, and conditioners, before landing on a deep conditioner that stated it gave “moisture and curl definition, hold and brilliant shiny hair.” Leyah nodded in appreciation at the fact that the very white royal family, overwhelmed with men, had hair conditioner that was created with black hair in mind.

  Reaching out she pulled the conditioner to herself and opened the top. It had never been used, something which did not surprise her in the least, and she wondered if its appearance in the bathroom could be attributed to Princess Valerie. Her hair was damp from her shower, the edges already starting to curl and kink. She reached down to the ends of her braids and began to undo them, smoothing the conditioner over the thick, kinky strands as she went. Once every braid had been undone, Leyah massaged the conditioner into her scalp, grabbing a wide-toothed comb and paddle hair brush and used both to work the conditioner through all of her hair. Once she was finished, she searched for curlers, finding a drawer filled with curlers of various sizes, she pulled them out and rolled her hair, using the different sizes to give her hair a deep curl.

  Once she was finished, Leyah realized with a groan that she didn’t have a silk hair bonnet to cover her hair and the one she’d brought from home was in her hotel room, along with her clothes, electronics, and weapons.

  “I guess I’ll be sleeping with my head hanging off the
edge of the bed,” she muttered to herself.

  She stood and washed her hands, grabbed a bottle of cocoa butter with shea moisture, body lotion and headed into the bedroom, turning off the light in the bathroom as she left. She went into the sitting room to sit and wait for Danorian, and to apply the lotion, when she heard a commotion outside in the hallway. Opening the door, she looked around in confusion as various royal guards raced through the hallway. Prince Algerone strode down the aisle, two men who favored him heavily—which made Leyah suspect they were other princes as well—walking alongside him. Their faces were creased with worry and anger, and Leyah wanted to shirk away when one of them narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion when they came abreast of her room.

  “Ah, Leyah,” Prince Algerone said, coming to a stop in front of her. “Can I trouble you to go and sit with my wife and children until I return? I know that you are technically off the clock and this is only your first day with us, but a serious situation has occurred, and I’d like to know the princess had some additional help while I go down to offer my assistance.”

  Leyah nodded. “Of course, Mexoria Źeylήia,” for the first time attempting to use the Malvidencian language in front of the man. Her body warmed with contentment when the prince flashed her a smile and nodded his head in approval.

  “Thank you very much, Miss Meer,” he stated. Then, without another word, he turned and strode away, his two brothers—whom she’d not been introduced to as yet—followed behind him, though one paused and looked her over, assessing her thoroughly, before he too turned sharply and followed.

  Leyah breathed out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t easily intimidated but the way that prince had observed her, she’d been extremely afraid that she would end up spilling all her secrets to him. She wondered if the kingdom used him in interrogation. He was tall, with a hulking frame, and a face that held a deadly kind of intensity to it. Leyah knew if he wasn’t used for interrogation then his talent for silent observation and quiet intimidation was being wasted.

  Shaking off the unsettling encounter, Leyah headed down the hallway to the suite of the Crown Prince and Princess. Knocking on the door, she waited for permission to enter. When the door was opened by a young man, Leyah smiled at him. An expression that fled when the boy simply stared at her… with the same intense look as the prince—his uncle.

  Gods, what in the world are they splicing with the genes of the royals? Lion DNA? She thought to herself. In all her years Leyah had never felt more like prey than she had in the last fifteen minutes.

  Pushing past the uncomfortable sensation she held out her hand. “Hello, my name is Miss Leyah Meer. I’m the nanny for your youngest sisters,” she introduced herself.

  The silent young man looked down at her hand, back up to her face, then back to her hand, then, without a word, turned and walked away. Leyah stood in front of the open door in complete stupefaction. Did she enter or wait for someone else to come and let her know it was okay?

  Deciding that it was better to ask for forgiveness than for permission—and since Prince Algerone had, in fact, sent her this way—Leyah stepped through the suite door and into the sitting room. She took in the sight of five children—five, holy shit, I thought it was just an exaggeration—either sleeping or playing around the room. Though the young man from the door sat in a chair in a corner silently observing them all. She smiled at them as they all turned one-by-one to look at her in curiosity.

  “Hi,” she waved. “Like I told your brother…” she waved a hand in the silent boy’s direction, “I’m the new nanny for the youngest princesses: Dahni, Eckha, and Eliava.”

  Another young man, with lanky limbs, and the appearance of a thin moustache on his upper lip stood up from the couch where he’d been lounging with an iPad ™. He walked towards her with his hand outstretched. Leyah placed her hand in his and grinned when he placed a kiss on the back of it.

  “Forgive my brother, Chikere, he’s quiet and doesn’t do well with strangers. Once he gets to know you better and realizes that you are trustworthy he’ll warm up to you and start to talk around you,” he stated with what Leyah thought might have been his attempt at a deep voice. She stifled the laugh that wanted to burst forth at the thought that this little boy, no, young man, was trying to hit on her, and nodded her head at his solemn and sympathetic look. “My name is Prince Algerone Lloyd Kent Smythe, Junior, but everyone calls me AJ. This,” he said indicating another young boy who was holding a sketchpad in his hands, “is my brother Beaumont. We call him Beau.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Beau,” Leyah said with a smile. She was instantly charmed when the little boy blushed and ducked his head.

  “He’s shy,” AJ whispered. “Those are the twins. You already met Chikere, and that’s Chiamaka.”

  A beautiful little girl, who seemed as if she knew she ran the world walked right up to Leyah, wearing a flouncy yellow dress that showed off the golden hues in her caramel skin, holding a doll in her hand. She looked Leyah up and down and tilted her head. “Do you like playing with dolls?” she asked in an almost haughty tone.

  Leyah squatted down in front of her. “I do, yes.”

  Chiamaka nodded. “Good. Then you’ll play with me after you put the babies to sleep. The boys will have their own things to do. I don’t want to play with them right now, so you’ll play with me and not them, okay?”

  Leyah blinked in surprise. She’d never had a child speak to her in such a commanding tone before. In any other kid it would have come off as bratty, but with Chiamaka, Leyah could definitely see the makings of a leader… or a dictator. Leyah would hope for the former.

  She opened her mouth to agree but was interrupted by an exhausted sounding female voice.

  “Chiamaka Kimberley Lavonne Smythe, that is no way to speak to an adult. You know better,” Princess Valerie stated firmly from the doorway to the bedroom. “Now I want you to apologize, right now.”

  “Sorry, mommy,” Chiamaka was instantly contrite.

  Princess Valerie shook her head. “Not to me, sweetheart. To Miss Meer.”

  Chiamaka frowned. “But she’s just the nanny.”

  Leyah stood up and took a step back, a feeling of uncertainty and humiliation—two emotions she was completely unused to—swarming through her.

  “Just the nanny?” Princess Valerie sighed. She walked fully into the sitting room. “Honey, before we came here did you have a nanny?”

  “No, ma’am,” Chiamaka waggled her head.

  “Exactly. And just because we’re now living with your daddy and people call you princess and refer to you as ‘your highness’ or ‘her highness’ does not make you any better than anyone else. It’s the same as if we were in America, do you understand me?” Princess Valerie’s tone brooked no argument.

  Chiamaka looked certifiably chastened and the room was silent as the little girl mulled over her mother’s words. She finally looked up at Leyah. “I’m sorry Miss Meer. My mommy raised me better. I am a princess not only in title, but I must behave as one in manner also. Forgive me for my words.”

  Leyah was stunned by the little girl’s elegant vocabulary and her grace. Flustered, it took her a moment to find her words. Finally, she settled on speaking from the heart.

  “I understand, Princess Chiamaka. When one’s circumstances change it is often confusing as to how one must act, what is and is not acceptable. My father always told me that the true measure of a royal is not only the way they treat their people, but the swiftness and sincerity in which they accept and admit their wrongdoing. I think you handled this situation beautifully. Thank you for your apology and I accept. And if you will allow me, I would love to play with you later, after I have put your younger sisters to bed.”

  Chiamaka smiled widely at her and Leyah was taken once again by the young princess’s beauty. She would be a heart breaker and a stunner. Prince Algerone would have to keep his eye on her when she got older.

  “Thank you, Miss Meer.” With that, Chiamaka skippe
d back to the couch where she’d previously been sitting and resumed playing with her dolls.

  “Mom, Kothrar said you are supposed to be resting,” AJ said with a frown.

  “Well, your father worries too much. The doctor said I should walk around and that it would help with the healing,” Princess Valerie said a frown, waving off her son’s concerns. “Besides, I handled four other pregnancies and deliveries just fine without any input on your kothrar’s part.” She looked quite put out and Leyah, who knew she shouldn’t get involved, knew she shouldn’t even care one way or the other about this family, interjected.

  “If you would like, Mexoria Źeylήia, I will walk with you around the sitting room, to the nursery and back to your bedroom. That way you’ve gotten the exercise you desire, and also, you’re being looked after and are safe, which will ease His Highness’s mind,” she offered.

  “Hmm,” Princess Valerie hummed, considering. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, I think I would like that. Thank you, Leyah.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Mexoria Źeylήia.”

  She walked over to Princess Valerie and offered her arm. She started to walk with the older woman who was taller than her by a few inches, trying to decide if she should make conversation or keep her mouth shut. The decision was made for her a few moments later.

  “Did you hear anything about Prince Alastair before you came here?” Princess Valerie asked.

  Leyah stiffened for a moment before forcing her body to relax. “Prince Alastair? No. Should I have?”

  She noticed Princess Valerie look over at her for a second before focusing back on where they were walking out of the corner of her eye. “I merely wondered if my husband told you what he knew. We received a call that His Highness, Prince Alastair had been involved in an extremely bad car accident when he was on his way home this evening,” she stated softly, probably so as to not alarm the children.

  Leyah gasped, unable to help herself. Alastair—Prince Alastair—had been in a car accident? What had happened? Was he okay? Was he in the hospital? She hadn’t realized she’d asked all of those questions aloud until Princess Valerie tapped her gently on the arm.