CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Good God Almighty.”
Reigna tried very hard not to act like she’d never been anywhere or seen anything, but the truth was, nothing she’d encountered in her billionaire world measured up to the grandness of Adebesi Palace.
The outside was made of white sandstone that easily blended in with the cool and vibrant tones of an island. Purple domes accented with gold topped the various towers that sprang up like the points of a crown.
She stepped inside what looked like a four-story building fashioned with the largest of the towers on top to see nothing but granite and wood covering the walls, surfaces, and flooring. All the home training that had been grilled into her about how to act in sophisticated places left her, and she had the urge to run her hand over the interior’s surfaces while saying Ooh, this is ni-i-i-ce in her Tiffany Haddish voice.
“This is your house? You grew up here?”
She glanced at him, unsure what she was expecting to see in his eyes. He stopped to circle just as she did before meeting her gaze.
“This was our main home. We have several smaller ones throughout the island. But this is the one where most state business is conducted. All our governmental buildings are nearby so that the crown can reach all branches of his government quickly, and they him.”
She fastened her eyes on the large central stairway with ornate carvings on the wooden banisters that seemed to be trimmed in gold.
“Did you appreciate how amazing this place is as a kid? Or did you slide your disrespectful behind down those gold-trimmed banisters?”
His face lit up as if he was remembering the very thing she’d accused him of.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t as appreciative of nice things back then as I am now. As a kid, those banisters were a source of never-ending fun. Today, I recognize them for the gifts from our people that they are. We reside here and can live this way only because we serve the people.”
“A lesson that took way too long to take root, if you ask me.”
From a side doorway, Reigna saw the woman she recognized through several FaceTime calls Jasiri had included her on to meet his parents. Mrs. Adebesi, as she’d known her then, and Queen Aziza, as she knew her to be now, seemed to float across the room on grace and Black girl magic, and everything in Reigna just wanted to naturally bow to the regal beauty greeting them with a smile.
“My Queen,” Jasiri said as he met her in the middle of the foyer, taking her offered hands and kissing the tops of them. “It’s so good to see you again.”
She shook her head and then wagged her finger at him as if chastising him.
“I am Mama,” she said matter-of-factly and then glanced over quickly to Reigna. “As of today, she is your queen. Understood?”
This woman wasn’t even talking to her, and Reigna was ready to nod right along with Jasiri, agreeing to everything his mother had just said.
She stepped away from her son and headed toward Reigna, and suddenly Reigna felt awkward and uncomfortable. Was she supposed to bow, curtsy, kneel? She had no idea.
This regal woman, who looked to be about the same just over five feet height that Reigna possessed, with her deep curves draped in a form-fitting purple peplum skirt suit and a matching Gele head wrap, that told anyone who laid eyes on her that she ran things, captivated Reigna, freezing her where she stood.
“I’m not sure how to properly greet you. I’ve never met a queen before,” Reigna admitted, not wanting Queen Aziza to think ill of her simply because she was ignorant of their ways.
Aziza’s warm brown skin glowed as her mouth spread into a wide grin. “A simple Hello, Mama and a hug will suffice.”
Not waiting for Reigna to respond, the woman grabbed her up in a hearty hug, one where you had to sway back and forth to keep from toppling over. It was warm and inviting, and even though she’d only known the queen for two minutes, Reigna’s body melted into hers like she was starved for matronly affection.
Queen Aziza pulled back sooner than Reigna would’ve liked. That warmth had felt glorious as it spread from the core of her chest out to her limbs.
“Now, let me take a look at you. You are absolutely gorgeous, daughter.”
Reigna blinked at the word, wondering if she’d misheard the woman.
“You are mine, as much as that bullheaded son of mine is.”
Reigna glanced over to see Jasiri give his mother a playful eye roll. The way she smiled in response it was obvious she knew her son meant no disrespect.
“Know from this moment on, my darling, it is as if you were born to me too. There are no such things as in-laws here on Nyeusi. Considering how our nation was formed, kinship played a huge role in our enslaved ancestors escaping and building a new world upon this land. Family, whether born or chosen, functioned the same for them and now for us. That means I am your mother now, Reigna, and the king is now your father. That is the Nyeusi way.”
Reigna could feel heat suffuse her brown skin, and she had to stop herself from swiping at her eyes or she knew the tears would come.
Never in all her thirty-four years had any woman, even her mother and grandmothers, ever made her feel this loved and cared for the way a child seeks to be nurtured by a mother figure.
Reigna’s mother had seen her twin daughters as nothing but a nuisance. She’d snap at them whenever they made too much noise, whenever they’d asked her to play with them. Hell, them breathing too loudly was enough to garner her wrath. Reigna had always ached to leave school and have her mother scoop her up into a big hug like she’d seen her classmates’ mothers do. All she’d gotten was an employed driver holding a door open for her and silence when she’d walked into their family home.
Ignoring the ache her mother’s absence had caused had become a usual part of Reigna’s existence. Ignoring the neglect had meant rarely taking the time to think about how much she lacked for as a girl. Unfortunately, after experiencing just one hug from Aziza, Reigna was painfully aware of how much she’d been denied as a child.
Thank goodness Ace had been everything to his twin great-nieces. Due to his love, it had never occurred to her, and Reigna was pretty sure she could speak for Regina on this point too, that not having a mother figure had meant they’d missed out on something.
But standing in the warmth of this great and powerful woman, Reigna could suddenly feel the emptiness that this woman was actively filling. This role that Reigna was going to actively let her fill even though she knew it was only going to be temporary.
Again, there was no rule saying this entire experience had to be miserable for her and Jasiri and, by extension, his parents. They each could take what they needed. If Aziza wanted a daughter, Reigna would happily accept her as a mother, because in this moment where she was out of her depth, Reigna realized she needed and wanted one more than anything.
“Thank you, Mama” was all she could manage without bursting into a blubbering bag of water. It was also all she could manage to get past the hardening ball of guilt lodging itself firmly in her throat.
Reigna was wrong for this. She knew that as well as she knew her name, all while intentionally ignoring that knowledge. What did it say about her that after experiencing Aziza’s genuine affection, Reigna didn’t want to be right?
Aziza must have divined Reigna was about to break against her emotional wall because she straightened her shoulders and said, “Now that we’ve gotten that straight,” she took Reigna’s hand into her own, “let’s go meet the king.”
* * *
Jasiri walked behind the queen and Reigna, a tight knot balled up in the middle of his chest as he recounted the brief exchange between his mother and his wife. Never having had any kind of real relationship with her own mother, he could see the relief that bled through Reigna’s body when his mother had taken her into her arms.
He knew how serious his mother was about their family. He should’ve never allowed her to get so close to Reigna so quickly, especially since he knew their marriage was on borrowed time. But knowing how Reigna’s toxic relationship with her parents had warped her sense of connection, he couldn’t take the warmth his mother provided away from his bride.
He shouldn’t care. This would only last for two years. But he wanted it for her. Since his mother had given him the excuse to go along with it because it was what the soon-to-be queen mother wanted, he could let it happen and ignore the guilt his dishonestly spun inside him. He could also ignore the extra thump in his chest when he saw his mother fawning over his wife.
This is what they would’ve had two years ago if Reigna hadn’t rejected him. The only difference was that then he could’ve had the total package. A mother who adored him and the woman he loved. Now he’d just have to settle for his mother adoring Reigna. That would just have to be good enough because that was all there could ever be.
He would never allow a woman, especially Reigna, the power to hurt him, to control his heart, and therefore him ever again. Not even for the happiness of his beloved mother.
His mother opened the double doors to the king’s office, and there he found his father sitting behind his desk, looking not as strong as Jasiri would like him to be, but he was in command of himself, the frailty of his hospital bed left behind.
The king stood, walking in front of the desk, and Jasiri knelt on one knee, taking his father’s right hand into his and kissing the royal ring of a golden lion’s head with purple sapphire eyes to signify his leadership and his royal status.
His mother wore a matching one with a lioness’s head, and the same royal purple eyes that embodied her position as the consort to the Great Lion of Nyeusi.
He brought his forehead closer to his father’s ring, letting the cool metal touch his skin.
Jasiri had always known this ring would be his one day as the heir apparent. But never had he imagined it would come so soon. He pushed down the sadness thoughts of his father’s health brought to his heart and instead focused on the blessing in this moment. Thrones usually passed from father to son in death. Yet his father was still here, reminding Jasiri the upheaval to his life was a small sacrifice to pay to see his father alive and healthy again.
“My King,” he uttered as he stood. “I am glad to see you looking better. But don’t you think you should stay away from this desk?”
“Do you see this, Aziza? He gets married and thinks he’s king already. Where is my new daughter you’ve brought me? Let me focus on her instead of your fussing.”
Jasiri stepped aside so his father could see Reigna standing next to his mother. She looked less uncomfortable than she had upon meeting his mother, and Jasiri knew he was right in asking his mother to take on Reigna’s royal training. Any staff member could’ve taken that on, but his mother would teach Reigna while building her confidence in navigating this new world Jasiri had brought her into.
She needed the confidence of a queen. Otherwise, this would never work. The council would never approve his accession, and if he took the throne without their blessing, it would leave room for his uncle to try to lay claim to the throne.
That could never stand.
“Come, daughter.” The king waved his hand, bidding Reigna to step toward him. When she stood before him, he clasped her hands into his. “You are even more beautiful in person than you were on the few video calls we shared.”
The king returned his attention to Jasiri. “I knew then from those short chats that you’d chosen well in a partner. I’m glad to see that you fixed whatever was wrong between the two of you, Jasiri. The wisest decision a king can make is who he chooses to be at his side.”
Jasiri watched as his father returned his gaze back to Reigna, squeezing her hands in his. “Forgive us for not revealing to you who Jasiri was. We have always agreed to support him in however he chose to show up into the world. It made us proud that he wanted you to know him as a man and not a prince. It meant that he really wanted you to love him. My only regret was that keeping that knowledge from you resulted in you walking away from what the two of you shared.”
He saw the flash of questions in Reigna’s eyes, and he simply nodded. Yes, he’d told his parents that she felt betrayed by him keeping his royal secret because it was the only thing that let both him and Reigna off the hook with respect to blame. She’d angered him to the point that he was hardly able to comport himself and be the charming prince his birthright had demanded he be. But he’d never, never wanted his parents to think ill of her.
She spoke to the king but kept her eyes on Jasiri. “I’m sorry I reacted so poorly. I only hope I can show you I’m made of stronger stuff than my response may have led you to believe.”
Was she saying those words for his parents’ benefit or his?
Jasiri closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from reading more into this than there was. The truth was, it didn’t matter if she was sincere. She’d shown him who she really was when she’d rejected him. She hadn’t wanted him then, and he’d never give her a second chance to have him now.