The Royal Beauty

by V Vee

  Now Augustus would have to marry her and make her a princess, and she would be able to get her revenge on Algerone and his black bitch for making her look the fool in front of the world.

  “Thank you,” she looked up at him, trying not to curl her lip in disgust as her eyes took in the scar on the side of his face. It was one he hid well beneath prosthetics when he was in the palace and trying to hide, but here, he had no need to.

  “Don’t forget our deal, Lady Taylor,” he said. “You have your DNA test. Bring me Helen Warner.”

  Taylor nodded and turned away. She paused and turned back around. “What do you want Prince Augustus’s girlfriend for?” she asked. Her eyes widened, and she gasped when he wrapped his gloved hand around her throat squeezing tightly and cutting off her air.

  “Don’t you fucking worry about it. Just know that Miss Warner and I have a very special appointment to keep in a special building on the grounds of the palace. I have a mission to complete and she’s the key to it being fulfilled.”

  He released her throat, and Taylor coughed harshly, before turning and rushing back into the hospital. She ignored his raspy laughter behind her, wondering if she’d made a deal with the devil in her quest for revenge.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The results were in.

  Augustus reached out to grab Helen’s arm, a shaft of pain stabbing his heart when she jerked her arm free.

  “Helen! Please, listen to me!” he pleaded. It was new for him. Begging for someone to listen to him. He never begged or even asked someone to listen to him. Especially not a woman. He had no need to do it. Women constantly threw themselves at him, he had his pick of the pack, and yet this woman… this gorgeous, sepia-colored beauty with the golden undertones to her skin, had him tied up in knots. Apologizing for things he didn’t understand and doing things he never thought he’d do.

  “Get your hands off me, Augustus!” Helen yelled. “You lied to me… again! I trusted you and you lied to me. After I gave you the most special, precious thing I had in my possession,” she hissed.

  Augustus lowered his head. “And I treasured every minute of it. Just as I treasure you, Helen of Troy,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her.

  Helen shook her head. “Oh no. You don’t get to try and be cute by using that stupid nickname on me!”

  Augustus lifted his eyebrows. “You said you liked it,” he pointed out.

  “I. LIED!!” Helen screamed at him. “See? You’re not the only one who can do it.” She turned on her heel and marched away. “Stay the heck away from, Augustus, I’m serious! I never want to see you again!” She turned around at this last point and pointed at him, delivering the fatal blow to his heart with tears flooding her light brown eyes.

  Augustus wanted to go and grab her, this woman who had utterly devastated him, changed him, and twisted him inside out, but another sound captured his ear and he turned, his hands clenched at his side.

  “Kotte! Mslonsgre Blabba ba!” His daughter… his daughter, Chloe Autumn, waved her chubby pale arms and hands at him, speaking gibberish, as Taylor Weshian, his biggest mistake walked up to him, holding out the little girl.

  “Someone wants their kothrar,” Taylor said with a smile. Augustus looked down at his daughter with a soft smile on his lips as he picked her up from Taylor’s arms and held her close to his chest.

  “I’ll just let you two spend some time together, while I finish getting us settled in our new suite,” Taylor said with a grin. Augustus expected the smile to be malicious, but it was one full of happiness. “Oh, Augustus?” Taylor called as she turned back around after stepping away.

  “Yes?” Augustus responded lifting his head from where he’d been snuffling at Autumn’s neck, making the little girl giggle.

  “Your mother wants us to meet with her soon to discuss the wedding.”

  Augustus merely nodded as Taylor inclined her head and turned to walk away. There would be no wedding. He’d majorly screwed up. He’d just been so sure the baby wasn’t his, that he’d told Helen he was sure that Taylor was lying. But the proof had been delivered to him, and not only had his parents seen it, but so had Helen.

  He knew she simply needed a moment to calm down. And he would make it up to her, but… could he be sure? He’d had a child by a woman he couldn’t stand, a woman he refused to marry even with the pressure from his parents, and he may have just lost the woman—the love—of his dreams because of it.

  Pressing his nose against the side of his daughter’s neck, Augustus inhaled her scent and let it calm him somewhat. He shook his head and lifted his head to look down into her blue eyes. His heart thudded at the innocence he saw there. The trust. The unconditional love.

  All things he’d once seen in Helen’s eyes.

  “I don’t care who gave birth to you,” he told her. “Helen is your mother. She’ll be the one to raise you.” Taylor was unfit, everyone knew that. Which was why Augustus couldn’t understand his parents pushing for him to marry her. “I promise.”

  Jeffrey

  Jeffrey Weshian waited in the dark alley for “him” to appear. He was not happy. As a matter of fact, he was barely holding onto his temper. Even though this man, this… reprobate had assured Jeffrey that everything was in hand and in order, it appeared to all be crumbling down around them.

  First, Algerone had married the fertile black slut, ensuring not only that Taylor would not have access to the crown through him, but making it nearly impossible for her to obtain it through Augustus. The spare to Algerone’s heir, Augustus was now ninth in line behind his many nieces and nephews. And yes, they could all easily be dealt with. One quick, massive explosion would take out Algerone and his entire “mixed-raced” brood, disgusting, filthy, mulattoes, the lot of them, but it wouldn’t solve the problem of… her.

  Helen Warner. Augustus’… “girlfriend.” The one he stayed plastered to all the time. The one he’d chased after, even when he’d discovered that Taylor was pregnant with “his” baby. It was disgusting and beyond disappointing. Did the man have no decency or respect? No sense of morality? In Jeffrey’s day if a man got a woman pregnant, then he was honor bound to marry her. It was how Jeffrey had wound up shackled to Mrs. Weshian—wherever her body managed to turn up.

  Of course, Jeffrey couldn’t be too upset about joining his life with the “late” Mrs. Weshian. After all, the woman had given birth to his sweet and beautiful daughter, and Taylor had been daddy’s “little girl” in every, single, possible way since the day he’d come into her room at night starting when she was sixteen.

  Jeffrey pulled his mind away from his pleasant, if taboo thoughts of the past and focused back on the here and now. Taylor was supposed to be preparing herself to marry Augustus, but the man had informed her—in no uncertain terms—that he would never marry her. That he would abdicate his position in line for the throne before he gave up his dear, precious “Helen.” And before they could turn their sights to Alastair the man had gone off, wooed, courted, engaged, then wed “the nanny”, knocking her up and having children with her. Though Jeffrey had to admit, he couldn’t wait to see that blow up in the young man’s face when all of the pieces fell into place.

  While Alfie was the last prince left for Taylor to marry, since Andreas was a loose cannon and had already abdicated, if she did so she would be no better than that desperate slut in the Bible who made her way through almost all seven of the brothers in one family in a desperate attempt to have children. Jeffrey wasn’t sure if all of those details were correct, but the sentiment was still the same.

  But isn’t that exactly what you’re having Taylor do? His subconscious mocked him. Jeffrey scoffed. He was nothing like those troglodytes in the Bible. The Jews—those kikes—were only a step up from the niggers they descended from. All of them filthy, dirty, immoral, and too fertile for the good of the world. Jeffrey looked forward to the day when the world was rid of everyone who was pure white. Of course, that meant he’d have to work with the hal
f-breed who’d actually impregnated his daughter.

  The half-breed he was currently waiting to speak to and demand an answer from. A timeline. Reassurance.

  The half-breed who’d cooked up this entire scheme and brought it to him in his home all those years ago.

  The half-breed with ties to the royal families of Malvidence, Waldakan, and Tepprysi.

  The half-breed who wandered the halls of the Malvidencian palace in wigs, prosthetics, makeups, and disguises, inconspicuously.

  The half-breed making his way towards him now… with his hand raised… holding a gun.

  POW!

  The half-breed that just shot him right in the chest.

  He knew what Jeffrey Weshian wanted. What he would demand from him.

  Answers.

  A timeline.

  But it was something he couldn’t—wouldn’t—give. He answered to no one. He never had.

  He’d stopped respecting authority the day his mother confessed to him and told him that he was the product of an affair.

  An affair with a royal from Malvidence.

  An affair with the reigning king of Malvidence.

  It was why he’d had to kill her.

  And the man he’d always thought of as his father.

  He trusted no one, because everyone lied in some way. Perhaps if they were innocent he might have let them live. But each time, they lied.

  They lied about being married.

  About being faithful.

  About being compassionate.

  About their identities.

  About being tolerant.

  About being in love.

  About forgiving.

  They even got their children to lie for them.

  And that was why they all had to die.

  And why he had to be the one to do it.

  He’d intended to have Princess Aa’Leyah rule beside him. She was, after all, his cousin, though she didn’t know it. But she’d gone and fallen for the white charms of the white prince, and so he would have to kill her also.

  And her newborn sons.

  If he kept Helen alive then at least he would sill have one family member to rule with him. He’d already set things in motion to kill off his surviving siblings. But, then again, she’d become little better than a bedwarmer for a white prince as well.

  Just like their mother.

  He walked over to Jeffrey Weshian who lay on the filthy ground, bleeding out, and swirled his finger in the coppery, crimson liquid oozing from the wound in his chest. Lifting the finger to his lips, he licked it, his eyes never leaving Jeffrey’s own wide gaze.

  “Tasty,” he said with a sinister grin and chuckle.

  Then he rose and fired a final shot right between Jeffrey’s eyes. Now that he’d finished that task it was time to head to the hospital. His cousin had just given birth and it was time to meet his baby sister for the first time since she’d been adopted by a couple in America and hidden away from him.

  Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Helen right over.

  “But why does she want to meet with me?” Helen asked aloud. It was a question that had been bugging her since Augustus first told her that Taylor wanted to see her.

  I’m not calling her “Lady Taylor,” Helen thought unkindly. She’s no “lady” to me.

  “I’m not sure, Baby. She just said she wanted to meet you, and with Danorian and Persephone on the run, but Taylor still here, it doesn’t look as if the three of them are working together at all. And as a matter of fact, it appears that her life is in danger also, what with her connection to the family and everything. You’ll be safe with her. Besides, I’m sending a guard with you, maybe two, so you’ll be protected,” Augustus said absentmindedly as he played with his beautiful daughter, Chloe.

  Chloe was a chubby baby. Her skin was a little darker that Augustus’ but not so much as to warrant suspicion that perhaps she wasn’t his. Besides, the paternity test had come back that had proven that he was in fact the father of the beautiful little girl with the thick, black hair, and the wide blue eyes.

  That baby should be ours, Helen thought, and not for the first time since the little girl had been born.

  “Why can’t you just take me over where she is, rather than sending me off with some guards I don’t know?” she asked, hating that it sounded as if she were whining or helpless, but unable to get rid of the feeling of uneasiness and fear that had gripped her and taken up residence in her gut the moment she heard that Taylor wanted to meet with her.

  “Because I—” Augustus stopped and chuckled. “I guess I can always leave Chloe with the nanny, right?”

  Helen nodded, sighing in relief. Augustus would be with her and it would stop Taylor from killing her in an effort to get to him.

  Helen felt better already.

  She shouldn’t have.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Helen did not want to die an almost virgin. No longer a virgin, but just barely on the side of “sexually active.” Well, she didn’t want to die period, but dying without having ever felt Augustus inside of her again. Without experiencing the thing that made her girlfriends act like fools and look blissed out and drunk just seemed like a travesty.

  Though you have experienced most of it, a subconscious thought flittered through her mind. You have almost circled the bases. You’re standing right in between third and home as far as experience goes.

  She shook her head as she watched “him” walk away from her and go over to the sideboard where he kept what she could only guess were his instruments of torture. She narrowed her eyes at his back. She would NOT go out like this. She was a strong woman. A strong, BLACK woman. She had enough people trying to tear her down, count her out, rape, demean, overlook, and kill her out in the world and yet, she’d survived. She would keep on surviving.

  “Come on Jesus and Beyoncé, give me strength,” she prayed softly as he walked back towards her, holding a scalpel in his hand. Yeah, it was time to fuck shit up.

  Miles away, a bruised and injured Augustus raged in his brother Alastair’s former private office. Flipping over computers, chairs, upending printers, phones, and desks that had been bolted to the floor. He didn’t feel the pain that would have crippled a lesser man. All he felt was loss. Emptiness. A feeling of brevity.

  Where was she? Where the hell had that bastard taken her?

  He’d woken up in his vehicle bruised, battered, bleeding from a chest wound… and alone. Nothing but a taunting letter in the passenger seat where Helen should have been.

  Poor Little Prince Augustus,

  Lost your future princess? Do not worry yourself. I have her. And I will take good care of her. I promise. The mother of “your” child played her part beautifully, don’t you think?

  Try not to think of dear little Helen any further. She certainly won’t be thinking about you. She’s going to be too busy begging for her life.

  Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she says your name as she takes her last breath.

  Who am I?

  Ask your Kothrar.

  Bye, bye, little prince.

  Sincerely,

  Wouldn’t You Like To Know?

  He’d been able to call for help, frantically calling out for Helen. After he was stitched up, Augustus had ignored the doctor’s orders and even the concerns of his family, as he set about trying to find his love. The bullet had been a through-and-through into his upper left pectoral. He was fine.

  He just needed to find Helen before that sick, twisted fuck did whatever it was he planned to do.

  He threw his head back, his black hair, that had grown over the last year or so, since Helen admitted she had a crush on Jason Momoa, brushing against the bottom of his shoulders, and released a sound of agony to burst forth from his lungs. He clenched his fingers into a fist and allowed the anger, the pain, the helplessness and hopelessness he felt to explode out of his very soul.

  Letting out a roar that shook the heavens and startled his brothers and Alastair’s twin boys, August
us cried out to a god he wasn’t even sure he still believed in.

  “GOD! Help me!”

  The curses from his bruthrars barely punctured the emotional fog which had surrounded his mind. He didn’t care about their delicate sensibilities. He didn’t care about being the proper prince at that moment. All he cared about was finding Helen.

  Rescuing her.

  Having her back in his arms.

  Making her his princess and never letting her out of his sights ever again.

  Dropping to his knees Augustus sobbed. Shudders of aching despair rippling through him. Collapsing against Andreas when his younger brother wrapped his arms around him silently and allowing the strength of his brothers to hold him together. He felt as if his very soul were being shredded. As if his heart were being diced and sliced into thin ribbons.

  He struggled to take in air, but he couldn’t.

  He needed Helen so he could breathe again. So, his heart would beat again, not the stuttering thuds it was currently engaged in.

  He needed the other piece of himself.

  His other half.

  Hours Before

  Helen turned to look at Augustus with wide eyes, her jaw hanging open. “What is this?” she asked pointing to the stereo in his car.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You mean you don’t know? How can you not? First of all, you’re American. Second, you’re a woman. Third you’re... you’re um...”

  Helen giggled. “Black? You can say it. I’m black. Yes, and proud of it.”

  Augustus cleared his throat. “Yes, that. A beautiful black woman, by the way,” he said to her with a gleam in his eyes.