Chapter 2: Prince
Casually and with a false sense of pride on display outside, I strolled into my co-habilitated home. However, on the inside, my nerves trembled.
Would he get angry? Would he yell?
Even as a child, I hated being yelled at. On the rare occasion that I had been naughty, my mother would scold me. I would stay hungry for a day afterward, drinking only my tears.
The living room was clear as day. There was no sign of the man I feared.
With a sigh of relief, I turned around only to meet that particular man staring down at me with an aloof expression. His countenance was like him coming in contact with a pet he knew existed but never really cared for.
My heart skipped, then proceeded to beat with the rhythm of a metal rock band drum.
Holding onto my composure, I gripped my purse. "Jalen," I called in greeting.
He tore his eyes away from me and began walking down the stairs, not before staggering and knocking a vase over.
The vase tumble from the floor Jalen was on down to where I stood. The ceramic mold clashed with a loud sound on the clear marble floor, shattering into a million pieces. I took a step back
Jalen closed his eyes and open them. It was clear to me that he wasn't completely sober. He came down the stairs and walked up to me.
He lifted his big hands to my cheek and caressed it gently. My ears were his next target.
"Where are they?" He inquired staring down at me with a strong gaze. He wasn't even completely sober yet he hadn't forget of his stamp.
"In my purse, I took them off in the car. They were heavy." I replied promptly, my back straightened.
He smiled at my reply, a weak incoherent grin spread across his lips.
Not letting the smile linger for too long, his lips formed a thin line as he moved to the sofa of the living room. A mild alcoholic scent trailing behind him.
"My head hurts," he proclaimed landing on the long soft peach colored couch.
"I... It wouldn't hurt as much if you didn't have a lot to drink." I suggested grabbing the sides of my dress, lifting them, and going up the stairs.
"I'll get you some medicine in a while," I uttered softly to the man sprawled on the sofa before leaving up the stairs to my bedroom.
Sighing a breath of relief, I closed the door to my bedroom.
He hadn't gotten upset. Maybe his headache was serious?
I changed out of my evening dress and put on something comfortable. A pair of sweats did the job. Within 20 minutes, I went back down to attend to Jalen.
I called Maria on the phone and requested she head to a pharmacy and get some pain killers.
Downstairs, Jalen hadn't moved from where he laid. I walked up to him and sat down next to his head.
"Are you willing to let me give you a massage?" I asked in a whisper not wanting to make his condition worse.
He made a muffled sound in response. I took it as a yes and placed his head on my lap.
With my index finger and middle finger of both hands, I traced his forehead and rubbed his temple gently.
"You've gotten better at this." Jalen praised.
"The last time I gave you a massage was in high school. Your mom mentioned you suffered from migraine so, my mom had a professional tutor me." I explained.
Jalen let out a low snort. "You had to learn something you weren't interested in. You must hate me for that."
My fingers moved to cover his forehead pressing it down with slight rubs. "I don't hate you or it," I uttered in a whisper cherishing words like fine wine.
Jalen rose his hand over his head and grabbed my wrist. With a sudden tug, he pulled my arm down to his chest, and with his free hand, he guided my face subsequently to his.
He pushed my head down and planted a strong kiss on my lips invading my mouth.
I tried to pull away, but my efforts were deemed futile. Jalen kept his lips glued to mine and his tongue busy. After a few seconds, he let go and pushed his upper body up to a sitting position.
"Don't lie." He stated with his back to me. "Hate is the only thing we have in this relationship. Without it, everything would be bland."
My lips were still burning from the collision earlier and my mouth was filled with the bitter taste of alcohol. I opened them to counter his words, however, Maria strolled in just that instance. My initial intention was curbed.
Maria bowed her head in greeting at the audience of Jalen. The latter waved his hands dismissively at her. "What is it?" he asked.
The plastic bag with pain killers in her right hand was raised to her front.
"I asked her to get you some pain killers. I'm sure you can take them at your discretion." I answered him before Maria got to it.
Jalen looked back at me with a nod then proceeded to grabbing the bag out of Maria's grip and moving towards me.
"Thanks to your massage, I already feel much better. I doubt I will need these." He rustled the plastic bag by his side. "Plus, I have to be careful as to not end up addicted. You'd hate to leave your birth home only to end up with a husband with the same affliction as your mom." He mused next to my ear.
"Jalen!" I yelled with the fire in my eyes making contact with his amused ones that tilted downwards.
He responded with a sad smile, grabbing my waist. "That's it. That's the fierceness I love to see," he said as a whisper in my ear.
He let go of me the next moment and went upstairs not sparing me another glance.
The anger in my eyes had yet to subside when Maria grabbed my wrist gently. I hissed and pulled away, unintentionally startling her.
"FiFi, don't let it get to you. From the looks of it, he's probably still a bit drunk." Maria reasoned, composing herself.
I nodded.
What a scumbag for a royal heir.
The mention of my mom reminded me that I had to visit my parents this month for their anniversary.
"I can handle my emotions, I don't need his actions to be reasoned by you," I said with a soft tone, to not sound like I was giving a scolding.
◇ ◇ ◇
The next weeks, Jalen traveled for a business trip or a fling. It was hard for me to know which exactly.
My parents' anniversary had come around, and I had made plans for a visit. I went down the stairs to meet Maria standing ready with my coat in her arms. Collecting the coat, I offered her a smile.
"I'm going alone today. Mom might make a fuss if she sees you." I informed and received an understanding nod as a response.
The black car was parked out in front already. I grabbed the keys from the driver and slid into the front seat.
"I am merely going home, I don't need a chauffeur," I said to the driver. Shoving my coat and purse into the passenger's side, I adjusted the seat and drove away.
During the drive, I received a call. The car was connected to my phone so; I received it.
The lady from the other end was laughing before speaking. "FiFi come to the Brixon bar. Kale got a deal and is throwing a party... it's lots of fun," my childhood friend the countess, Kiera slurred over the call.
"Kiera, I have to spend time with my mom today. Can't show up." I said with finality and cut the call.
In a few minutes, I reached my maternal home. The security recognized me instantly and let me through the gate.
I parked the car and went straight inside to be met with a scene.
As my heels clicked on the marble floor of the modern palace, servants ran towards me in desperation.
"Princess, please convince the Madam to stop." One particularly young maid pleaded.
Confused, I moved towards the center of the commotion to find my mom in a frenzy.
A huge box in a gift wrap was in the corner as my mom eyed the gift the box had concealed.
It was a large ice sculpture of a flamingo. The work was exquisite and brought up my curiosity.
Before I could get a proper appreciation for the work of art, mom scoffed wriggling her hand free from her best friend Lia's hold. With two steps, she stood in front of the sculpture. Her fingers traced its beak delicately, the palm of her hand placed itself against the neck of the glass flamingo which was surely cold to the touch and pushed it.
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Next chapter, a brief introduction to the royal families. Thanks for reading!
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