Page 10 of Royal Pain
“I know you already have met Zan, but let me present our other son. This is Tarik,” Queen Ayana says.
The king’s face lights up with the introduction. Obviously Tarik is the chosen one.
We meet in the middle and shake hands. His face is open and friendly. I’d say kind. He takes my hand in both of his.
“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Banks. We’re always happy to talk about our beautiful country and let people know who we are as a nation. Please, have a seat.”
I take my place in the vacant wing chair placed across from the family, as Zan takes a seat at the far right. Before sitting down, Kwai grabs a handful of grapes from a bowl of fruit then pauses to pop a few in his mouth.
“Kwai. Please take your seat,” Queen Ayana orders.
The command isn’t ignored. He takes his place between his brothers. It’s clear who will be the next king. Tarik sits at the right hand of the Monarch.
Taking out my recorder and pad, I begin the interview.
“I want to thank you all for allowing me this half hour’s conversation. I understand your trip is a relatively short one this time. So let’s get started. King Mansa, you’ve successfully ruled Mozia for thirty-seven years. Many other sovereign nations have fallen or become independent nations. Do you believe the rule of the Monarchy is applicable in this modern world?”
I hold my breath for his answer, because I went in hot. After a few beats, a wide smile breaks out on the king’s face.
“Ms. Banks, I understand the very idea of a royal family, a monarchy, is foreign to Americans. It sounds old fashioned, a little archaic. But look deeper. What is the proof of our choice of governance? It’s the state of the country. Not just it’s financial strength, although that’s important. The real test is in its people. Are they happy? That’s number one. Are they protected from forces without and within? Do they thrive under the rule of authority? The answer to all these questions is a resounding yes.”
“There’s been talk the last few years of what the monarchy will look like going forward. What can you tell us about who will be the next king? The line of succession for Mozia isn’t conventional. The eldest son doesn’t necessarily ascend the throne.”
I keep my eyes on the king, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my question hasn’t made its mark on everyone here.
“It’s true, I’m coming closer to the end of my reign. I’m seventy years old. But for now no final decision has been made. All my sons are fine men and more than capable. Any one of them could handle the job. It’s just that only one of them is destined to do it. Time will reveal its choice.”
* * *
I can’t stop going over this afternoon’s conversations. Even as I step into my little black dress, I’m reliving the interview. My skin is tingling with the realization of what I was witness to. The allotted half hour turned into an hour and a half. Now I’ve got the makings of a great piece. No. Three pieces. There’s enough there for a series. I’m so friggin excited.
Every one of them opened up, revealing their unique personalities. I learned the strengths and roles of each member of the family. Queen Ayana was the most guarded, but even she was warm and upfront with her opinions. I was afraid she was going to just be a figure head. A mouthpiece for the king. But no. Her take on things may be the most valued. She’s very bright. They all are. Even Kwai, who doesn’t really care about the monarchy other than what it can get him. There’s a good guy buried deep inside, though. That’s the sense I got. Although I’d bet my life he uses the position to his advantage when he gets the chance.
Zan was the quietest. There was no talk about how he came to be a member of the family. I know the basics, but the details have always been guarded. There wasn’t any difference I could see between the brothers. All were equals in their parents’ affection. They treated Zan as if he was born to the monarchy. When I brought the subject of his childhood up, the queen shut it down. I took the hint and moved to a new subject.
My cell sounds atop the bedside table. Oh good. It’s Soraya.
“I’ve got five minutes. Literally five.”
“Hello to you too. How did it go?”
I begin to pace, originally my method of reaching ten thousand steps a day. Now it’s habit.
“It was great. I’m going to make it into a three-parter. What an interesting family.”
“How was African Adonis?”
“Better than I remembered.”
She starts to jump in, but I cut her off.
“I know! I told you he was the best looking man I’ve ever seen, but it’s better than that.”
“How can it be better than best?”
We start laughing. Reminds me of our early days working the newspaper. Her with “Ask Ida”, me being one of the online researchers.
“I want to meet him,” she adds. “I told Graham about it too. He thinks we should all get together for a drink. That would be a good way for you to see him again.”
