The Torn Prince

by Zee Monodee

  Zediah’s frown had morphed into something a tad more like preoccupation. He’d witnessed Rio exchange a few words with the man, then gently pat his shoulder before leaving the room without a backward glance.

  What was going on between them? Surely, if they’d been involved, she would’ve kissed him, or at least done more than just a fleeting, almost impersonal touch before she left.

  He should cool his heels. Rio might not even want to think of a second chance with him, but Zediah could be very patient when the need arose. And if he had to win her from another man—as he should have the first time—he would do it.

  He dismissed the thought as he breathed in the heated air inside the Range Rover Evoque. The scenery puzzled him. That was Hyde Park, wasn’t it? And here were the crisp white, terraced stucco townhouses of Belgravia. And there was Cadogan Square, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  Why were they here? Taking a detour towards Southall? But it would’ve been easier to take the streets outside of central London rather than cut through these affluent neighbourhoods.

  A sense of unease gripped him and soured his stomach. He’d been ignoring it ever since he had come out of the building where Tempo was housed and had found Rio striding towards the side garage. More perplexingly, the luxury SUV parked there.

  He’d dismissed it as maybe a perk of the job. But Rio worked for an NGO.

  This kind of money would’ve been put to better use for running the place, not to give the Executive Director this type of wheels.

  Then they turned into a narrow street. The terraced houses’ fronts a mix of white-washed walls, luxury dark grey trimmings, and sand-coloured brick façades, a few potted plants in front of the doors, window baskets of colourful flowers just barely hanging on still in the winter.

  When the car stopped in front of one dwelling with a brown brick frontage and black doors, he recognised the place for what it was. Mews. And in Knightsbridge, no less.

  It suddenly dawned on Zediah how much of an absolute bloody idiot he had been. Rio drove a Range Rover vehicle, and she’d just brought him to her home. The place where his son lived. One of the classiest neighbourhoods in London, with Buckingham Palace just a stone’s throw away and some of the best schools in the land within spitting distance.

  Here he’d been thinking he would find her down on her luck, struggling to make ends meet. He would swoop in as the regal saviour to rescue her from this life of drudgery and provide all the best opportunities possible for his child.

  How wrong had he been? She’d already been doing a damn fine job of it, it appeared. She hadn’t needed him.

  She didn’t need him …

  And this realization hurt. Because he’d always thought of himself as her knight in shining armour. Except, she had never been a damsel in distress. She’d single-handedly worked her way out of the pit without any help, none less from him.

  She stopped and opened the car door. Zediah snuck a sideways glance and fell in love with her all over again.

  Just like that.

  Everything she was, everything she embodied. It tore at his heart, making the place she’d held there from the very first moment grow as if it were a terrestrial fault line that would forever keep on widening.

  A knock came at his window, and he shrugged out of his thoughts, opened the door and got out. Rio was looking at him with a weird frown as if she were gauging him up.

  “Last chance, Zediah. If you don’t want to do this, say so now.”

  How could she even fathom something like this? It was his son—his flesh and blood—they were talking about here.

  “Never,” he replied softly. “Let’s do this.”

  “It’d be good if you didn’t look so much like a deer caught in headlights. Nour doesn’t bite.” A chuckle escaped her. “Well, not much.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She laughed again, then turned towards the black-panelled front door. “Come along.”

  He followed her in, a wave of soft scent like lavender—mixed with baby powder—wafting up and settling over him like a cloak of peace and serenity. He shouldn’t dread this—and he wasn’t, as dread wasn’t the word he’d use—but everything inside him converged to let him reckon life as he’d known it would never be the same again, not after these next moments.

  “Oksana?” Rio called softly.

  “We’re upstairs,” came a shouted reply.

  “Great. Means he’s awake. Follow me,” she said.

  She went inside, going to the far right of the open-plan ground floor. He caught glimpses of a fireplace in a massive reception area with a kitchen bordering to the right and a set of staircases beside it.

  Not too shabby, and he was putting it mildly. What a fool he’d been! No wonder she’d been ready to chuck him out of her office that first day. He should count himself lucky she was even letting him see their son.

  They took the stairs to one level up, where she turned left and undid the child-safety swing door barring the doorway to a big bedroom. He could already see an array of soft colours on the walls and a crib to the side.

  He’d told himself he was prepared for this. He would’ve bet money on it, even. But the first actual sight of his son … His step faltered, his body froze, and his heart? It swelled and grew and exploded all to build itself back up once more and start the process all over again.

  Time stood still for him while he gazed at the grinning baby who lurched onto his stomach, attempting to happily crawl towards his mother.

  “Mamamama!”

  Rio laughed and crouched to grab him into her arms and place resounding kisses on the chubby cheeks, making the kid squeal happily.

  That—it was the sound of joy. Pure. Unadulterated. Just pristine and perfect.

  Like this child was.

  His child.

  “Zediah, this is Oksana, Nour’s nanny.”

  He vaguely recalled seeing a young blonde in the periphery, and after a few hushed words from Rio, the girl left them and went downstairs.

  By now, it was just them. Him, Rio, their son.

  How it should have been ever since she’d found out she was pregnant.

  How it should be from here on.

  Nothing else mattered. Not his family, his title, the crown. He’d give it all up in a heartbeat for a chance at a whole life with this baby … and this baby’s mother.

  As he gulped back, a lump blocking his throat all of a sudden, his eyes started burning, and he blinked hard, registering too late a tear had fallen down his cheek.

  “Come on, don’t be shy,” Rio was saying.

  To him, apparently. He should go in, introduce himself to his lad. Glancing down, he noticed she’d left her shoes outside the room on the landing. He proceeded to divest himself of his brogues and then walked into the nursery.

  It felt like he was tiptoeing or even walking with those gigantic, no-gravity leaps the American astronauts had taken on the moon. Little by little, the distance between him and Rio decreased, his vision tunnelling right along until all he could see was this woman and the child she had borne to him.

  Nour. As much as his mother was a burst of radiance, the boy was indeed a ray of bright light. He looked adorable, too, though Zediah was undoubtedly biased. But he’d seen his lot of babies. Nour painted a terribly cute picture with his smooth skin, chubby cheeks, bow-shaped mouth, pert nose, big doe eyes, and a thatch of soft curls that made the gentlest of halos around his head.

  Zediah was no expert, but he would venture a guess the baby was a bit on the tall side already, what with the limbs that looked more long than fleshy.

  He must have stopped and stared for ages, and Rio had let him.

  “Do you want to hold him?” she asked, finally breaking the loaded silence between the two adults. The baby squealed and babbled away with his nonsensical chatter.

  He blinked, finally focusing on her again. And he could all at once see the resemblance. Nour was indeed his mother’s son. Were it not for the slightly darker ski
n tone and the curls, he seemed to have nothing of his father.

  A pang clamoured in his gut as a hand crushed his heart in a vise.

  He didn’t deserve to be here today, did he? After the way he’d behaved, how he had let them both down …

  The child lurched in his direction, the decision taken out of his hands, forcing him to surface from his doldrums. Every instinct rushed forward to catch the suddenly moving bundle. Nour’s face landed softly against his shoulder, and Zediah’s arms came up to hold him tightly. His hands landed on Rio’s—she still had the child safely, thank goodness.

  “Got him?” she asked.

  He couldn’t help but think she was asking about more than the moment, and he wanted to answer that yes, he did. He got them both forever from here on.

  But the only thing to make it through was a nod. She pressed the warm, soft, and squirming mass into his chest, making sure he had one arm under the squishy nappy-covered little butt and the other braced against the boy’s upper back.

  When she let go, he tightened his hold, afraid he’d let the child fall or slip from his grip, though remaining careful to also not hurt this fragile creature.

  “Shouldn’t I be holding his neck or something?” he asked.

  Rio laughed. “Only when they can’t hold their heads upright. We’re past that stage now.”

  They were, and he had missed it all. He imagined the moment Rio would’ve come up to him and either told him she was pregnant or shown him the pregnancy test strip with its two pink lines like they did in the movies. He could feel the joy that would’ve burst through his heart, the love that would’ve engulfed him for this woman. How he would’ve kissed her and then reverently touched her belly, pressing a kiss near her navel and already speaking to the little bean growing in there.

  He would have started to count the days on the calendar for when their baby would be born. He would’ve looked after her, made sure she ate only organic food and went to all her check-ups and scans. Gotten out at three in the morning to find her whatever craving would’ve taken hold of her during those nine months.

  Alas, they hadn’t had that because of him.

  If it took his whole life to make up for it, he would willingly give it. No one else deserved it more than these two here.

  “You’re allowed to talk to him, you know,” Rio quipped.

  Zediah chuckled.

  “Hey,” he murmured to the kid.

  “Want to tell him who you are?” she prompted.

  He blinked, tearing his eyes from his son, who had been staring at him all this time. Probably just seconds that felt like an eternity. Babies just did not have this kind of attention span, did they?

  “You sure?” he asked her softly.

  She simply nodded. He thought he saw a wash of sorrow flit over her face to darken her features, but it was gone in a flash when she looked back at the baby.

  Zediah snuck in a deep inhale and peered into the brown eyes with flecks of hazel blinking up at him as if with avid curiosity and asking, ‘Who the heck are you?’

  “Hi, Nour.” The kid appeared to perk up upon hearing his name. “I’m … I’m your dad.”

  That title. The world hadn’t come crashing down. A tsunami hadn’t washed away all the coastlines. Every volcano on the planet hadn’t erupted.

  But in Zediah’s mind, it felt as if all of it had indeed happened. The Earth had tilted on its axis when he’d said the word.

  Nour stared at him for another second, then the little face scrunched up before it fell smack against his shoulder, the tiny mouth munching on the fabric of his suit jacket. When Zediah looked, he could indeed see a wet stain building there in the material.

  Rio laughed next to him. “You’ve been accepted.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She tilted her head towards where their son was savagely trying to eat into his suit. “He’s just started teething and is very picky with what he chooses to put into his mouth. He just showed you he likes you.”

  A sigh of relief escaped him, even though he frowned a little at the renewed toothless vigour being unleashed on his jacket. But it was a good start, right, his son liking him? While he …

  The lump returned to his throat again, and he cleared it softly.

  “I— I love him,” he muttered, then scrutinised her face. “Rio, I love him so much already.”

  Was she blinking away tears? But she gave him a trembling smile and nodded. “I loved him from the first moment I saw him, too.”

  “So this is normal?”

  “It should be, anyway.” Then she shook her head and reached for the baby. “Best we occupy him with an actual teething toy unless you can afford to have that suit ruined.”

  He was reluctant to give the child back, but he relented and let go once he was sure Rio had him safely in her grip. A wave of cold washed over him—Nour’s tiny body had been so warm against his, he felt the temperature change even though the heating was well on in the nursery. And the farther Rio moved away with the child, the more an icy draught settled in her wake.

  Yet, she’d only stepped a few feet away to the giant playmat on the floor where she deposited the baby.

  Next, she handed him a squeaky giraffe toy which went promptly into the feral mouth. The same mouth looked like butter wouldn’t melt but attacked the poor animal’s long neck like it wanted to tear the life out of it.

  As he stood there and watched, the tunnel vision returned, and this time, it bade nothing good as he could acknowledge the beginning of a panic attack. Just the mere thought of not having Nour in his sights … He couldn’t think this way, though. Nour belonged with his mother, and Zediah would take all the crumbs she’d let him have. It hardly meant she’d ask him to share in their son’s life twenty-four-seven right away.

  Forcing himself to regulate his breathing, he brought himself back from the brink and reasoned with himself. Nothing else but Nour mattered now. And Rio, too. Whatever he got from them, he would take, and it would be enough. The form this would take, he had no idea, but he would go with the flow.

  Rio looked up then, catching his eye.

  “So what now?” he made himself ask, bracing for her conditions. He would listen carefully, respect all her wishes, give her the due courtesy and consideration he had so blatantly denied her all this time.

  She gave him a soft shrug. “I guess we take every day as it comes?”

  Not ideal, but better than what he’d prepared for. “Fine by me.”

  ***

  They did just that in the end. Friday came and found him once again at her house. He had come there every morning after breakfast and left before dinner when Rio got home from work. He’d hoped she’d ask him to stay and eat with them, but so far, she hadn’t, and he wouldn’t press. Time enough for everything else in the future.

  Thinking of the future reminded him of Bagumi and his ‘duties’ awaiting him there, none less the impending arranged marriage to Bilkiss.

  Bagumi was one bridge he wouldn’t cross until he absolutely had to. His conversations with his mother on the phone had been succinct, with him evading the topic of his return. He just had to mention something about Nour to the queen, and he was off the hook.

  He’d play the card for however long it would work. For the time being, he enjoyed spending time getting to know his son, who had turned out to be a little hellion who reminded him a lot of Zareb. A warm friendship also developed with Oksana, who had been showing him the ropes of how to cope with said little hellion.

  He rose when Rio walked into the nursery that afternoon, hours ahead of her usual arrival time.

  “I should get going,” he said, though everything inside him screamed to be allowed to stay and spend as much time as possible with his son.

  “No, Zediah, don’t.” Rio shook her head with a sigh. “I’m on my way out again. Well, as soon as I get ready. You should stay,” she added with a smile.

  He acquiesced with a nod. Settling down on the floor, he absent
ly shook a stuffed elephant in his hand to try and distract Nour, who was sitting on his play mat with an array of toys strewn around him. Oksana was preparing the baby’s dinner, so the task of distracting the kid had fallen to him.

  So Rio was going out later? A sinking feeling like a boulder being dropped into his gut anchored him to the spot as a thought crossed his mind. Was she going out on a date?

  A sharp pain to his knee tore him out of his reflections. “Ow!”

  He narrowed his eyes on the wooden cube lying in front of him and looked up just in time to see another block flying in his direction. He caught the thing in mid-air, Nour blinking at him and looking puzzled that his projectile hadn’t reached its aim.

  The full, pouty lower lip started to tremble, and Zediah sighed. Another crying outburst. He should try to stave it off, by any means. In the few days he’d been here, he already knew what would work without fail. Though Rio and Oksana would both skewer him with disapproving looks full of reproach if he went along with it.

  But he’d be damned if he’d sit here being target practice for a baby who had demonstrated superb aim. Despite having just acquired the ability to throw things more than two inches in front of him.

  He stood then scooped the baby in his arms and made his way to the adjoining bedroom and the flat-screen TV on the wall. Switching it on all while bouncing the whining kid on his hip, he used the remote to access YouTube. Now to find some content that would take Nour’s attention away from trying to punish his dad for having been such an absent jerk in his mother’s life.

  The first recommendation would work. But there was only so much Peppa Pig a man could take weekly, and one episode viewed was one too many. Quick—had Nour even seen the thumbnail?

  Then something caught his eye, making him smile. The perfect thing to distract his son. He would never publicly admit he was also indulging just as much as the kid in this, though. So he started the clip and plopped down on the thick rug in front of the bed with Nour sitting between his stretched-out legs.

  As the cartoon character’s weird laugh filled the air, Nour went still, then started giggling right along. Perfect—objective achieved, and he’d dislodged Peppa Pig from the top spot, too.