Page 7 of Royal Pain
Chapter 3
Zan
My mother was the hardest sell. “I’m not convinced this is such a good idea, Zan. Let’s consider a journalist we already know.”
The lioness watches over her cubs at all times. Doesn’t matter we are all in our thirties. It’s common knowledge in our country that this elegant regal woman will rip you a new asshole if your actions threaten our peace. Queen Ayana’s suspicions have protected the family more than once. And her ability to stay calm in pressure has left its impression. She’s always teased me by saying I got my cool from her.
My father was more open to the suggestion we give Belinda a chance. “Zan boy, I trust your instinct. You have my permission.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Just make it short. I don’t want to go beyond half an hour.”
I’m not sure he even considered the question longer than the time it took for me to ask. He’s got bigger things to consider lately. We all do, really. This interview would be a momentary distraction from the cold reality we’ve had to face.
Kwai gleefully points out my dick’s doing the thinking. “Why do I get ridiculed for the same thing Zan gets rewarded for?”
For once he might have been right. It’s a surprise because he mostly thinks of things from his angle only. When he gets a look at Belinda his opinion will change. Everything will become crystal clear. He’ll make a play. She’ll know how to handle him though. I’ve only just met her, but I sense that. I can hardly wait to witness her take control.
Tarik saw the advantage of the interview. “We should do it. The positive outweighs the negative.” Then he listed four reasons why. Not the least of which was she’s got the ear of the youth. He was the one who swayed the family vote. As usual, his logic and ability to look ahead won the day.
We’ve all come to expect that from him now. That’s why he will become the next king. He read some of Belinda’s pieces last night and the pundits’ take on her abilities to interview. But it was the fact she has so many visitors to her site that made the final argument.
How he swayed the doubters among us was with undisputed facts. She and the blog had been mentioned more than once on the MSNBC website in a positive light. Her tough questions balanced by her style. She doesn’t go for the jugular or take cheap shots. But her opinions are measured and backed up thoroughly. She always asks the questions that need asking. The ones her readers wonder about.
Up till now, mostly the American rag magazines or celebrity television shows have requested interviews. There’s no interest in perusing that. Not by the king or queen, and not by Tarik or I. Only Kwai is of the opinion all publicity is good publicity.
Our trip stateside wasn’t announced because of its real reason. So only a few paparazzi pics have spread the word we’re here. And that’s all because of me and my brothers. Here in New York, we’re minor constellations in a sky full of stars. Kwai is the bad boy, I’m green eyes and Tarik is the up and comer whose young family is photogenic. So far, hearing real interest in the actual monarchy or business of our country is unusual.
We only have a few days, I pointed out to my mother, and then this opportunity will be missed. Because that’s what it is for us. Opportunity. Tarik is about to be on the world stage, albeit a very small player. But the upcoming transfer of power means a new generation will have its say in our country. I envision a golden era for Mozia. As good a king as my father has been, Tarik will raise the game. He’s that special a man.
We all see it, save Kwai who is pissed about being passed up. Although, I think even that pushback is show. He’d much rather be holding court in a bar or club than ruling a nation. Too much work for the man. Where would he fit in his drinking and carousing? But he makes appropriate under-his-breath comments, just so everyone knows he doesn’t like the idea of being second choice.
None of us will acknowledge to Belinda, or anyone else, the changing of the guard is about to happen. Our countrymen and women will be the first to hear the news and it will be a televised delivery from the king. But not yet. Right now as far as everyone knows my father is the healthy, vital man he’s always been. Not as we learned two months ago, a cancer victim whose time is running out. Those words are bitter to even contemplate. The tears well in my eyes and a lump rises in my throat.
Waiting for my parents to return from the doctor is gut-wrenching. All three of us are trying to distract ourselves. We weren’t allowed to accompany him to his oncologist appointment. I get it. It would grab the paparazzi’s attention.Why is everyone there when it’s just routine tests King Mansa’s going in for?It’s feasible we would take advantage of the quality medical treatment in the United States. Not so believable that a man’s entire grown family shows up for routine bloodwork and yearly physical. That’s the lie.
I pick at the breakfast choices laid before me. Kwai’s idea of room service is to order multiple choices and choose what you want when they arrive. Waste. Entitlement. Nothing suits me this morning. Not even the view of Central Park seen from the suite’s dining room can distract.
“You going to eat the bacon?” Kwai asks, grabbing a piece off my plate.
“Apparently not,” I say, not really giving a damn that he does this regularly.
He takes the remaining two pieces and adds them to the pile of food still on his plate.
Tarik finishes the last drops of his orange juice and wipes his mouth. “Tell us about the girl.”
There’s no use denying the fact my motivation isn’t entirely pure. Not to my brothers. They know me too well.
“She’s fucking hot.” My grin punctuates the statement.
“No shit,” Kwai says. “We figured that bit out. Give us a few details.” I’m not entirely convinced there’s not drool involved. Kwai is like a lecherous character from a film. In contrast, Tarik finds the conversation funny. The contrast is sharp.
“Blue eyed. Blonde. She’s got this strong personality, but it’s in a really feminine package. Her voice is cool. It’s soft, and…” I stop mid-sentence because my brothers are staring at me like I have two heads. “What?”
Tarik and Kwai bust up laughing, in on a secret joke only they know.
“Where the hell did Zan go? We aren’t interested in the woman’s tonal range, bro. Tell us about her tits and ass at least.”
