by V Vee
But personally, her reputation was in tatters. Whenever she went out into town, people looked at her with pity or scorn. She was, for all intents and purposes, a single mother of five children. And while they all had the same father, no one knew that. And no one knew that she was married, though she wore both her engagement ring and a wedding band. But then again, who couldn’t buy those things on their own? She traveled around town, and around the country, and the world, without a husband, without a man, that wasn’t either one of her brothers, her husband, or the married friend of her husband, who always brought his wife along with him. Her single status and position as a single mother of five was an un-talked about bit of speculation, scorn, and gossip on blogs, on Twitter, Facebook, in online magazines, and even in tabloid magazines.
She knew what she looked like to the rest of the world. And while it shouldn’t bother her, she was an independent woman, after all; and if she wanted to have ten children with a different man, all without getting married, then that was her prerogative, as long as they were well cared for, getting an education, and receiving health care, and love, then that was all that mattered right? And yet, she felt… ashamed.
Perhaps it was the way some of the looks felt a bit like stereotypical righteous indignation. As if, of course, she, a black woman, would have five children and no husband, boyfriend, partner, fiancé. Even the smiles, and murmurs of concern, and questions about her children seemed patronizing to her. Then again, it could be her own projection and feelings of guilt and anger towards her husband who’d impregnated her, time and time again, and even though they were married, did not stay with her, choosing instead to fulfill his duty to the crown and his kingdom, because his reputation and title was so much more important than his own goddamn family.
Damn the patriarchy, she thought bitterly, as she finished dressing and headed downstairs to fix breakfast for her children.
Opening the refrigerator, she smiled as she heard Beyoncé playing in the den and the sound of Scrubs playing in the family room. It sounded as if her two oldest were already awake.
“Hey guys? What do you want for breakfast?” she called out.
“Pancakes!”
“Waffles!”
She heard from two different voices. She knew an argument would break out if she didn’t react quickly. Her boys were starting to display a bit of aggression and sibling rivalry, as they tried to assert their independence, and testosterone. It was exhausting on the best of days. It was even worse on days when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and read, or go outside and paint. Perhaps that would be a good idea. She could take the kids out back and have an arts & crafts day. They always loved that.
“How about both? But only if you come help with the rest of the meal,” she said loudly.
She could tell they were pondering her words, but then she heard two sets of footsteps hurrying in her direction. With a small smile, Valerie pulled out the eggs, turkey bacon, flour, bread, strawberries, cherries, melon, orange juice, milk, and blueberries.
“Oh Mommy! We’re having a special breakfast!” her second oldest, Beaumont, said excitedly, pumping his fist in the air.
Valerie laughed. “Yes we are, Beau. Why don’t you go and wash up and I will let you decide what fruit goes in which batter?”
Valerie waited until Beaumont had run out of the room before turning her attention to AJ, or Algerone Jr. An almost spitting image of his father, except for his caramel coloring, hazel eyes, and soft, black curls, which he kept brushed back at all times, the teenager stood in the middle of their large kitchen, his hands braced on the kitchen. His developing biceps strained beneath his basketball jersey, and he clenched his jaw. Valerie knew he was upset about getting in trouble at school, but even more than that, he was hurt that his father had once again missed another basketball game, Algerone hadn’t even been able to attend via FaceTime or Skype.
“AJ, do you want to talk about it?” Valerie asked softly.
AJ shook his head. “No,” he stated emphatically.
Valerie nodded her head, struggling hard not to sigh. “Okay. But just so you know, I’m here if you want to talk, alright? I always am. I understand about disappointment. I even know what it’s like to get into a fight at school because you don’t like something someone said about you, your family, your race, or heck, even your favorite television show.”
AJ’s arms drooped slightly in relief and confusion. He lowered his eyebrows. “Television show?”
Valerie shrugged nonchalantly and chuckled softly as she whisked the batters for the pancakes and the waffles. “Let’s just say when I was in school there were two different groups: those who were Team Dawson and those who were Team Pacey. Everyone knew that Joey should and would pick Pacey. Pacey was obviously better for her. He loved her more, she loved him unconditionally, and the love was pure and without the other having unrealistic expectations. It was real. And I was totally Team Pacey. And my best friend, your Aunt Laeticia was Team Dawson. We got into a debate one day in the cafeteria, a bunch of other girls got involved. Someone called someone else a name. Someone said something bad about a character on the show, and before I knew it, we were all fighting each other.”
Valerie glanced up and almost burst out laughing when she saw the look of absolute horror on her son’s face. At least he didn’t think it was interesting and ask who won, or ask for more details like her brothers had at the time. Or ask if her actions were that of a “Phenomenal Woman” like her mother had. It was the one and only time Valerie had ever been in a fight. Every other time she’d solved every argument or disagreement with her words, but in that moment, she’d felt free, untethered, and invigorated. She’d spent most of her life having to be an example, or having her parents push her to “be better,” “act better,” “do better,” than everyone else around her. Much of it was because they knew that as a black woman in the United States she would have a much harder time getting a fare shake than her white, and non-black, counterparts. However, the rest of it came from her parents’ own exacting standards.
Not that she could fault them. They’d raised six amazing children, five of whom had prestigious and well-paying jobs, and one child who passed away at age three before he could fulfill his destiny. And with no grandchildren born out of wedlock, Valerie’s parents: Lloyd and Lorraine Hall did have much to be proud of. Valerie was sure of that.
“A television show? What was the name of it?” AJ asked.
Valerie snorted. “Dawson’s Creek. Though it should have been called something totally different. Dawson wasn’t really the focus after maybe the second half of the first season, or even the second season. Joey was, Joey and Pacey. They should have just named it: Joey and been done with it.”
AJ shook his head. “But Mom, if the show was named Dawson’s Creek, and there was a character name Dawson, then he should have been the one to get the girl at the end. That’s just how things go. It’s traditional.”
A shudder ripped through Valerie, chilling her inside at those words flowing from her son’s lips. Her spine straightened from the force of the blow to her stomach by his off-handed remark that socked her straight through. Walking over to AJ, her gaze calm and determined—she hoped—she raised her hand and touched his cheek.
“Nothing is to be expected just because of someone’s name, position, or the privilege awarded to them because of how they were born, and nothing is ‘traditional.’ I don’t want to hear you say that again. If something is wrong and hurts others, or doesn’t allow for growth, change, doesn’t allow those who are marginalized, overlooked, forgotten, or even those who are written off, a chance to redeem themselves, to succeed, to thrive? Then it’s up to those of us who have the resources, those of us who have the capability of changing things to do so.” She smiled at him. “Even if it means rooting for the redeemed bad boy to get the girl at the end of the show, instead of the main one.”
AJ nodded. “Okay, Mom.”
Valerie grinned at AJ and leaned over
to ruffle his hair. When AJ jerked his head back, his face flushing red in embarrassment, as he groaned at her, she felt her heart clench. Time was passing by so quickly. It seemed as though it was only yesterday she was pregnant with him, she and Algerone had both been excited at the reality that she’d be giving him a son the very first time. An heir. However, that joy had quickly been squashed—at least for Valerie—when Algerone had left for Malvidence when AJ was only one month old, citing that he couldn’t take any more time away from the kingdom. Valerie, who had only seen Algerone a few times throughout much of her pregnancy, realized that her son would experience the same thing. It had been a bucket of ice water that had quickly doused the flame of motherhood for her. At least for the first few weeks. Her family had worried she was suffering from postpartum depression, however, when she woke up one morning to AJ laughing and realized he was fascinated by the sunlight streaming through the windows and catching on his cradle mobile, something had shifted within her.
Valerie quickly came to the conclusion that regardless of Algerone’s presence in her son’s life, she would be a constant. A guiding force. There to love, lead, educate, direct, encourage, and discipline, when his father could not. And so far, she had been successful. But now she was fighting against outside forces. What was she supposed to do when people outside of their home, outside of their family made her son, her children, feel as if they were less than because their father wasn’t around, when she couldn’t give them a good reason for it?
“Mommy?” Beaumont’s voice called to her, pulling her out of her inner musings.
“Hmm?” Valerie blinked and looked down into the big, hazel eyes of her second eldest.
“Is Daddy coming back soon?” Beaumont asked.
Valerie glanced up at AJ when the older boy grumbled, and noticed his lips tightening into a scowl. “Why would you ask that, honey? You just saw Daddy not too long ago, remember?” she reminded him gently.
Beaumont nodded. “I know, but I wanted him to come and see me in my play. It’s in three weeks. Will he be back by then?”
Valerie swallowed the tears that threatened and reached down to cup her son’s cheek. “I hope so, Beau. We’ll ask him, the next time we talk to him, okay?”
The sound of tiny footsteps, shuffling towards kitchen had Valerie looking up. The twins: Chikere, Chiamaka, and her two-year-old, Dahni, walked into the room. Though they’d had more sleep than anyone else in the house, especially Dahni, they managed to look more exhausted than the rest of them combined. Valerie knew it was a temporary situation, however.
“Hi, sleepyheads! Do you want pancakes and waffles?” she asked them with a smile.
Like a switch being flicked on inside of them, all three of them let out a cheer of excitement, and began to run around the kitchen letting out squeals of cheer, until Valerie settled them at the table with coloring books. Once she got them focused on a project, she, AJ, and Beaumont set in to prepare breakfast for all of them. It was just another morning in their home.
Yet, every smile on Valerie’s face felt stiff as Algerone’s text messages to her lurked in her mind. Taunting her. Would he really show up? Was he coming? And if he did, would she be able to be firm and tell him that things weren’t working out as they were anymore? Would she be able to tell him that his family, his children needed more? Needed him more?
As her gaze wandered over AJ and Beaumont’s sad expressions, she knew that she had to. For the sake of her boys.
Chapter Three
A lgerone sat aboard his private plane, looking through the papers he’d brought with him that detailed the bids submitted to him by various architects to build the new school in the city of Stortrup in the province of Mistelbirge in the kingdom of Malvidence. Callum, Algerone’s father had tasked him with the negotiations and hiring of the company who would construct the new educational building. It was one that had been highly anticipated for many years. Set to provide free, top-tier education to secondary school children from lower income families who had undergone rigorous interviews, shown an appetite for education, possessed the requisite grades, and had a plan to attend university, Algerone had a passion to see the project completed to perfection.
He knew his father expected him to succeed, but perhaps not to excel, which was exactly what Algerone intended to do. It was why he’d been so distracted lately and had neglected his family slightly. He grimaced at the twinge of guilt that ate away at his belly. He’d made a promise to Valerie when they’d gotten married that he would be active and present in not only their marriage but in the raising of their children. It had been something he’d earnestly intended to keep at the time. In fact, when he’d first met her at the run, he’d been instantly intrigued by her. Spending time with her at the bar, and then later, talking, walking, and eventually, having their first date, and night together, after her gallery showing—where he’d bought so much of her art, and convinced his friends to do so as well, effectively propelling the woman who would be his wife, into the most sought after artist in the world—had done nothing but solidify for him that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The one he wanted to have a family with.
The one he would give up the crown for, if need be.
And yet, as time had passed, and his father had given him more royal responsibilities and Algerone and Valerie’s family had grown, without Valerie demanding that he take their marriage and children public, Algerone had grown… comfortable. Complacent.
Bloody hell, he’d become a coward, that was all there was to it. And cowardly was not a word he would have attributed to himself. However, it was one that aptly suited him. His parents were proud of him. They regularly praised him on turning away from his “bad boy” ways of drinking, partying, and adrenaline-fueled pursuits, such as he’d taken fourteen years ago in Spain. Algerone, as the eldest Smythe son, and heir to the throne, had always been expected to have a level-head. To toe the line. To keep the rest of his brothers in line. And perhaps it was this burden, set upon his shoulders at such a young age that had compelled him to lash out, to rebel, so early, so frequently, and so flamboyantly.
Whether it was the time he’d held a nude birthday party on the roof of his estate in Malvidence, or the time he’d entertained three different French models in his limo, during Fashion Week, Algerone had always gone for maximum shock value. He’d merely shrugged whenever he was questioned by the papers as to what he thought his parents would say about his antics. He’d known that eventually he would have to grow up, become serious, and lead his kingdom with respectability, but he had been young yet. In fact, he’d only been twenty-four when he’d met Valerie, still at a young age.
He hadn’t confessed to any of his brothers that he was married, nor had he told his parents. The only ones who knew where his best friends. He’d had every intention of letting the few pictures Valerie’s friends, Laeticia and Helen had taken leak to the media as well as their marriage certificate. Just as a way to take back a bit of his independence, but that was before he’d really gotten a chance to know Valerie. Before he’d fallen in love with her and they’d actually gotten married. Before the birth of their first child, or their second.
Their third and fourth.
Or their fifth.
And now, here they were: married fourteen years, and no one in his family knew. His brothers had missed out on so much with their nieces and nephews. And he’d denied his parents so much time with their grandchildren.
Worse than that, he’d missed so many seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, with his own children and his wife. His few visits every years for a short amount of time just wasn’t enough. Algerone missed his family. He needed them with him. But so much time had passed, he just wasn’t sure how to solve things.
As his eyes moved through the pictures of his children on his phone, those he’d taken himself, those sent to him by his friends when they could, those sent to him by his in-laws, by his own children, and most painfully, those b
y his wife, Valerie, of the kids around the house, or out on outings, in school programs, or playing in school sports, or after school activities, his mind went back to his first night with her. When he knew he was going to marry her by the time the summer was over.
Fourteen Years Ago
Algerone had never felt this way with another woman. Valerie fascinated him on every level. She was beautiful, intelligent, talented, sexy, fascinating, she had a wicked sense of humor, a beautiful and generous heart, and was selfless. She was the perfect package for a man like him. One who was trying to reform his bad boy image. One who was drawn to more creative types like her. If only she was a royal, then she really would be perfect, and he could present her to his parents and they could be wed.
Algerone released a frustrated breath. All of his life had been like this. Denied something due to whom he was born to. Or, given something, granted access to someplace, someone, or something, because of the lottery of being born to the right parents. It wasn’t due to his hard work. It wasn’t because of he had actually earned the adoration of an entire kingdom of people. It was because they saw him and his family: his brothers and his parents, his ancestors, as people to be revered. It was all quite exhausting.
To make matters worse, Algerone knew he had no one to blame but himself for his feelings of inadequacy and restlessness. His younger brothers: Augustus and Andreas, had both decided to serve in His Majesty’s Military. Though Augustus served in a purely supervisory role, not one with any danger attached to it at all, since he was the second-oldest, and was the “spare” to the “heir-apparent”, Algerone, he still had made himself useful. As a matter of fact, all of his brothers had some sort of goal in mind for when they got older or when they came of age. Alastair, who was only twenty-one, and three years younger than Algerone, had been following his father around since he was a boy, learning all about the laws, bylaws, guidelines, alliances, etc. to do with Malvidence and their allies, that he was now allowed to sit in with the council and help with advising.