CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“All hail King Jasiri and Queen Reigna! May the ancestors grant you wisdom, bravery, and longevity.”
All the ministers repeated King Emeritus Omari’s edict in unison, their words and voices so powerful Reigna might’ve tilted on her stilettos if Jasiri hadn’t held her hand as they stepped off the dais and in front of the center aisle of the chambers.
“Rejoice, Nyeusi. Rejoice!”
The former king’s voice bellowed above the crowd as Jasiri walked them through the well-wishers in the chambers. Just before they reached the exit, Reigna glanced up into the balcony seats and saw none other than Pili sitting where everyone else stood, face drawn without a hint of anything except anger.
She’d known she’d find a problem eventually in this room. There it was, looming above her like a daunting promise of her demise. Pili was officially waging war against her.
That was fine by her for two reasons.
She would not run.
She would not lose.
* * *
Death on the ocean floor over life in chains on the land
EST August 8th, 1741
Reigna read the words carefully on the looming memorial right outside of the ministerial chambers. The granite held the likeness of five men. From their full lips, high cheekbones, and tightly coiled hair, she could tell they were of African descent. One stood at the top of a rock holding an ax in one hand and a broken shackle in the other. His features were drawn taut, and his mouth was open as if he was yelling something powerful, and the four men behind him held similar poses, expressions, and stances, as if they were making some sort of battle cry.
“What’s this memorial for, Jasiri?”
“It’s to commemorate the victory of emancipation that occurred when our ancestors reached these shores.”
He stood closer to her, resting his hand on the cool granite and bowing his head in reverence before speaking to her.
“Have you heard of the New York Conspiracy of 1741?”
She nodded. “Yeah. When I was ten, Ace spoke about it at the reburial of the enslaved remains found in Manhattan. It was pretty much the Salem Witch Trials of Manhattan, but the enslaved and poor whites were the targets. They were accused of setting fires all over New York, including the governor’s house.”
The muscles of his face relaxed as if he hadn’t expected her to know that. If Ace didn’t teach her anything else, he made sure she knew her people’s history, even the painful parts.
“The accused were either executed or exiled from New York if they were white or shipped to the Caribbean for harsher enslavement conditions. One such ship was headed for Jamaica when the ancestors changed the wind and battered the ship with a storm. Half of the ship’s crew were lost at sea, and when the remaining unshackled some of the enslaved to replace the lost crew, a revolt broke out. By the time the boat was shipwrecked on these uninhabited lands, it was only the enslaved who made it to the shores. The five men are the ones who led the revolt, and once they arrived on the island, the one standing on top of the rock became our first monarch. King Dakarai Adebesi.”
“You ancestor led the revolt?”
She tried to hide the wonder in her voice but couldn’t. It wasn’t every day you learned your husband was related to a real-life folk hero who turned the enslaved into champions and built a nation.
“I told you, Reigna. Protecting our people and our nation is written in my DNA.”
He certainly had told her that. Hearing the details of how this nation came to be spotlighted that point in bold bright rays that made him look less like the asshole he’d been to her before they’d left the palace and more like a flesh-and-blood hero.
“Does this origin story have anything to do with what Pili meant when he called me part of the Lost Tribe?”
“It’s connected,” he replied, “but not in the way Pili intended it.” Jasiri placed a gentle hand at the small of her back as he continued to stare at the statue.
“The Lost Tribe refers to Africans who were enslaved and relocated all over the world and their descendants. African Americans would be included in that grouping.”
When he looked down at her she could tell he was questioning if she understood what he was trying to say. She did. Pili was trying to say she didn’t belong. She looked into Jasiri’s eyes and saw an apology there for the way his uncle had previously used the term. She smiled up at him, hoping to dismiss any misplaced guilt he felt in the moment.
“That’s actually kind of beautiful.” She saw the slight pinch in Jasiri’s brows as he was trying to figure out where she was going with this. “African Americans are socially taught to be ashamed of our ancestry, as if it was somehow our fault that our ancestors were stolen, enslaved, and kept in bondage for four hundred years. The Lost Tribe means we belonged somewhere. It implies there’s a people, a community, a land that misses us and aches for our return.”
“That’s how the phrase was intended to be interpreted, My Queen.” Jasiri’s welcoming voice made Reigna turn to face him. “What my uncle forgets is that we here on Nyeusi are members of the Lost Tribe too.” He pointed back to the statue before them, pride written into every fiber of his being as he paid homage to his ancestors. “That’s why we provide open citizenship to all people in the Black diaspora here in Nyeusi. We want our people to know that there is a people, a community, a land that misses their presence and aches for their return.”
Her heart leaped in her chest. This man was supposed to be her business partner. Every time he spoke of his love for his country, it made her want to become a part of it and him. Sure, he’d angered her beyond reason before they’d left for the ministerial chambers. Yet when he talked about his nation and its rich history, she could forget how enraging he could be. Listening to him express his love for his nation felt like he was welcoming her into much more than the office his family held, but into his homeland and his life too.
She wanted that feeling of belonging to be real. As he tightened his arm around her, drawing her in to his side, she decided it would be as real as she needed it to be for as long as she needed it to be. After all, she was the queen. Who would dare tell her different?
Jasiri leaned down and ran his hand just under the inscription and pointed to a gold plate that read
Donated by Jordan Dylan “Ace” Devereaux,
I to the loving people of Nyeusi
“Ace and his love of Black culture and history across the diaspora made him such an incredible champion of Nyeusi. When the original memorial was damaged by a hurricane, he donated a new one to us. That and his countless other philanthropic endeavors on the island made him a favorite of the people. He and my father’s friendship truly benefited our people and our nation.”
Her heart swelled in thinking that her great-uncle’s greatness lived on in places besides Brooklyn. His good works around the world meant his legacy would live on.
She tightened slightly as a realization hit her that in all the upheaval of the last few weeks she hadn’t yet considered.
“He knew you were royalty, didn’t he?”
The sliver of regret in his eyes was answer enough for her. However, before she could let this knowledge turn into something ugly in her mind, he ran his hand up her shoulder before enclosing her fully in his arms.
“He loved you, Reigna. He truly did. Him keeping this secret for me was never about you. It was about protecting me. My work as an ambassador was about more than me learning diplomacy. It was also about giving me a brief moment in my life where I had some modicum of freedom to be just a man so the crown wouldn’t feel like such a noose when I finally had to wear it. It was a moment to allow me to really learn who Jasiri was without all the formal trappings of the crown. Ace knew just how vital that would be to my future and to Nyeusi’s future. That is the only reason he kept my secret from you.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, loving Ace more in this moment than she ever could convey with words. He’d protected Jasiri and allowed him to become this man that she was falling harder and harder for each day.
Yes, she knew what she’d said to Jasiri about not needing to love him to screw him was a lie. It was all BS she’d spouted just to win in the moment. The truth was, the more she saw him love his country and embrace his place and position in it, the more she loved him. Now, she’d just have to play her cards close until she could get him to admit the same. She had no doubt he loved her. There was no way he could comfort her this way if he didn’t.
She stepped out of his embrace and leaned down to run her fingers over it when she saw a shadow darken her periphery. She stood up just in time to see a young boy, probably no more than thirteen, charging at her with wild eyes.
She braced for the inevitable impact but felt Jasiri’s strong arms grab her up before pushing himself in front of her. Two guards stopped the boy before he could reach the first step of the monument.
Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely make out voices. From the way the police and their guards were talking into radios and phones, she knew there had to be chaos all around them.
Shaking her head to try to focus, she opened her eyes, and the noise assaulted her. Instead of the radios and sirens she knew had to be blaring, she heard, “Please, ma’am, I meant no harm. I just wanted to give you this.”
She looked down at the rolled-up piece of paper thrown to the bottom of the monument before he was tackled. She tried to step aside Jasiri to get it, but he shoved out an arm.
“Jasiri, he wasn’t trying to hurt me. He’s a baby. Just let me see what he was trying to give me.”
The muscle at his jaw ticked as she placed a hand on his arm. “Please, Jasiri.”
He motioned to one of the guards, and they handed the paper to him first. He unrolled it, then let out a harsh breath before giving it to her.
It was a portrait of her in front of a backdrop of Adebesi Palace. She stood tall with a crown on her head and a lion’s skin over her shoulder. At the bottom it read The Great Lioness .
Since she wasn’t wearing the same outfit in the painting as she wore now, she knew this child had made this painting for her…before today.
This time when she pressed at Jasiri’s arm, he moved, letting her step in front of him walking toward where the guards still held the boy.
He was upright now but still being caged by the burly guards.
“Please let him go. I don’t believe he will harm me.”
They did as she asked but still bracketed the boy.
His T-shirt was smudged with grime, and she could see a small scuff on his cheek. She reached inside her purse and pulled her handkerchief out of it, slowly extending her hand to give it to the boy.
His smile quivered as he bowed as best he could with the guards standing so close.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I meant no harm.”
“I know you didn’t. These two…” she pointed to the guards on either side of him “…get a little bit antsy when they see someone charging their new queen.”
She opened the paper roll and showed it to him. “Why did you paint this for me?”
“Because you love our king, which means you love us. I wanted you to know we love you too.”
She looked down at the painting because if she kept her eyes on that sweet boy’s face she was going to burst into a bag of water. She saw a name scribbled in the corner.
“Kofe?” She chanced a glance at him. “Is that how you say your name?”
He nodded eagerly, his little chest growing ten times its size with pride.
“Thank you so much for such a kind welcome, Kofe. I will treasure this always. May I hug you?”
His shirt was yet smudged, and dirt was still on his face, but she didn’t give a damn whether her designer clothing looked like an off-the-rack special after this, she was hugging this boy with such a beautiful soul who had risked so much just to honor her.
She pulled him into her bosom, holding him as hard as she could without hurting him before she pressed a kiss atop his head.
“Thank you so much for this gift, Kofe. I will treasure it and you always.”
She stepped back and cupped his cheek before saying, “Next time, just be sure to get permission to talk to me first. I don’t want to see you get hurt just to talk to me. You understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She gave his face a soft pat before turning to Jasiri and following him and their guards back to the car.
* * *
The limousine was silent the entire ride back to the palace. Jasiri’s entire being was still tightened as if the perceived threat was still in play. The only thing keeping him anchored to the back seat was Reigna’s hand clasped in his.
Touching her grounded him, kept his mind from jumping to the million and one horrible scenarios that could’ve unfolded if that child had meant anything other than adoration for his new queen.
Jasiri shuddered at what could’ve happened to that child if Reigna hadn’t recognized he wasn’t trying to harm her. All he had seen was someone pushing through to get to her, and his instincts had told him to protect her with his very life if need be. He’d posit that later because trying to make sense of it now would only serve to frustrate him more, and he didn’t need to deal with anything else that would distort his insides the way the incident had him twisted up in knots right now.
The car had barely come to a full stop when he’d pushed the door open and stepped out of it. The staff nearly tripped over themselves trying to open the door for him, but he was too quick and too focused on the only thing that mattered: Reigna.
He was around the car and opening her door, extending his hand to help her, but to also connect with her, to remind him she was alive and so was he.
They made it back to their apartments quickly, allowing the staff to remove their crowns and regalia and quickly take them away to the vault.
Once they were alone, Reigna removed her jacket and shoes, and by the time she plucked the last pin from her hair, Jasiri was in standing in front of her, looming.
“Jasiri, are you—?”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. His mouth was locked on hers, and he’d pulled her into his arms so quickly, she’d nearly stumbled against his chest.
If he was half the man his mother raised him to be he’d gentle this kiss, step back, and give her space, talk to her about how fear and regret had wound him up when he thought she was in danger. But that would require him to stop what he was doing, and touching her, her touching him, it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into despair.
His hands pulled her closer to him, as if he was trying to take her inside of himself. She purred for him, and it was like a volcanic explosion. His hands on her ass, Jasiri picked her up until her legs were around his hips. They made it as far as the dresser in their bedroom before their hands were all over each other again.
He leaned back just enough to grab the silk camisole covering her breasts and tear it in two, as if the delicate fabric somehow offended him. The strapless bra holding those ripe mounds of flesh would’ve been next if she hadn’t held out her hand.
“This is a La Perla exclusive. You can’t buy this anymore, and I will not let you destroy it no matter how much your growly caveman bullshit is turning me on.”
He tilted his head, feeling the corner of his mouth hitching up into a grin. She wasn’t joking in the least little bit, and it was both amusing and intoxicating all at the same time.
“I want it off. Now.”
She slipped from the dresser to remove the bra, and he stepped away to get what they needed in the nearby night table. When he looked up again, Reigna was standing beside him, her body free of clothing as she slowly crawled into the bed, her back arched like the fierce lioness he knew she was.
She lay down on her back planting one foot on the plush bedding before she slipped her fingers between her folds, stroking herself slowly and deliberately. The delicate skin of her sex glistened with her arousal, and if he hadn’t been rock-hard already, the sight of her pleasuring herself would’ve taken him from soft to ready to cut diamonds within seconds.
“Are you waiting for an invitation?”
He disrobed quickly, holding himself over her as she continued to bring herself closer and closer to release.
“If you come before I have the chance to fill you, I promise you’ll regret it.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, as a glint of mischief sparked in her gaze. “I guess you’d better hurry up, then, because I’m nearly there.”
He sheathed himself, taking both her hands in one meaty palm and locking them in place above her head as he used his hips to make her open to him. He ran the covered tip of his domed cap over her sensitized flesh, his entire body loving the sweet ache that flared inside him. She was so wet, her arousal coating him, making the glide that much smoother, taking him from painfully hard to steel and making his balls heavy with his release.
Her moans were becoming louder with each swivel of his hips as he caressed her swollen flesh. She was almost on the edge, and he wouldn’t miss the unadulterated joy of having her hot and dripping, nearly squeezing the life out of him as she bore down on him throughout her release.
He slipped quickly inside, riding her hard, nearly drowning in the pleasure of her body molded around his as if she were made explicitly for him. The first spasm of her release made him snap his hips harder, angling himself from muscle memory over that spot that made her explode. Just like he remembered, her body convulsed beneath him as she called his name over and over as if it was a lifeline to her salvation.
He’d needed this. To see her alive, vibrant, and beautiful, taking his strokes so good he had to fight not spill from the second he’d entered her. He placed his hand at the base of her throat, letting his thumb rest softly against her racing pulse, confirming that she was here, with him, and in danger of nothing except the pleasure pouring over her.
When her release subsided and her eyes focused on him again, she saw something. She gripped the hand around her throat, relocating it to rest flat against her left breast, and she kept it there as he plowed into her.
“I’m here, Jasiri. I’m okay.”
The knowledge that she understood what was driving him, this uncontrollable need he had to bond with her, to reassure himself that his worst fear hadn’t happened today, it melted something in him. He couldn’t afford to be vulnerable in front of Reigna, not when he knew the pain of her turning his world upside down. But in this moment, he couldn’t hold back his need to be not just near her but in her and around her.
He fell forward, catching himself on his elbow as he buried his face in her neck. Here, she couldn’t see how afraid he’d been for her and himself. Here, she couldn’t see the relief her safety brought him. Most of all, here, she couldn’t see how much she’d wrapped herself around his damn heart. Reigna could never know she had that kind of power over him.
She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back and whispering soothing things in his ear until his body was one big knot of tension that snapped so tightly that when his climax rushed through him, he’d nearly blacked out from the unending pleasure. Her body spasmed around him, milking him, drawing his orgasm out longer until his skin was so sensitized he shook.
He’d told her this should never happen between them again the last time he’d found himself buried in her body. As his muscles slowly relaxed and his breathing became somewhat normal, he realized how wrong he was. He needed her. He needed them. He couldn’t go on pretending otherwise.