Maid For Him

Homecoming King

Prince Cleo's POV

         I woke up to the sight of familiar gold-painted walls and a cool breeze coming from the open door leading to the terrace. The luminous sun temporarily blinding my vision as it reached it's highest peak, clearly showing that it could well be after noon. My head seem to be killing me as I tried to remember how I got here....to my bedroom? What the hell happened last night? Only thing I remembered was tasting Rochelle's lips against my own as the jet took off into the night. Ah, the perks of having a hangover. Not. "Your Majest..." I quickly sat up, startled by the feminine voice, not realizing that there was someone in the room with me, sitting against the edge of my bed. Her old frail gray eyes following my gaze, and for a second I didn't realize who it was until it hit me.

"Martha!!" I called out  in joy, happy to see my old caregiver that has never left my side until my trip to Ghana. She was like a second mother to me, always strict and authoritative unlike my permissive mum that was way too young when she conceived me acting more like an older sister or cool aunt rather than my mother. Martha had cared for both my brother Isaiah and I since I was 10, and Izzy 7. She'd tell us stories of her grandmother who'd assisted others from escaping the concentration camps in Germany during the Hitler invasion in 1936, and even of her 5 children- none of which ever came to see her anymore, so this was her home now. It had been for years. 

"It been to long my dear son, your brother's been behavin' like a two year old on crack since you've been gone. He's been getting on my last nerves. I had to set him straight this mornin'. He wanted to see you, but you needed  your sleep. You looked restless and mournful when you came in last night. " I liked that about Martha, she was never to pushy on asking me what was wrong. she always patiently waited for me to come to her; which I regularly did- especially in my teen years. Now, that I was much older and much more able to make moral decisions on my own about the future of our country, I began to realize just how much Martha had been there for me.  Without a second word, I instantaneously got up from under my duvet, and wrapped arms around her plump waist, drinking in her presence for what seemed like forever.

"Cle-Cle!" I let out a soft grunt as I felt the heavy weight of my body being ripped away from Martha's and pushed onto the king sized behind me. My head hitting the wooden backboard with a resounding ping. My arms pinned over my head as the familiar scent of Ralph Lauren cologne and french espresso filled my nose. I squinted an orb open to spot my brother Prince Isaiah hovering me with a Cheshire cat like smile. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the over-enthusiastic 18 year old. Seriously, all he had to say was a simple Hi.

"Dude... I hope you know you ain't the lightest tool in the tool-box. Get the hell off me, fat ass." I bonked my forehead against Izzy's, slightly annoyed  as I urged him to get off me. He made a small groan while rubbing at his forehead. "And if you ever pin me down like that ever again, you're a dead man." I grinned taking him into a playful choke hold, using my knuckles to ruffle and dishevel his perfectly groomed hair. 

We hear grumbles of disapproval as we turn to see Martha giving us a scowling look with her arms crossed against her chest. "...Man, you boys are lucky you got your looks. Otherwise I'd feel sorry for your wife's." She gives us an exasperated sigh as she disappears back into the hallway, leaving my bedroom door ajar. Izzy and I shared a similar glance of confusion before bursting into fits of uprearing laughter.

"So Bro, I gotta ask," Izzy started once we were finally alone, just the two of us in my en-suite. We both crossed our arms across our chest in synchronization. 

"Did you tap that snuck-up Ghanaian babe?" He rubbed his palms together whilst wiggling his dark brows suggestively. I elevated mine, not knowing who the hell he was talking about. 

"Who?" I asked incredulously my voice cracking slightly, scratching at the nape of my neck. I'd somewhat managed to forget all the faces I'd seen in Ghana but one. Her. The one I urged to forget the most. Damnit, Cleo! She's in the past now, and what's in the past, stays in the damn past. 

"King Ayo's little slut daughter, of course. Who else, bro?" I let out a barbaric laugh throwing my head back whilst clapping; Isaiah clearly confused as to what he said wrong. He never failed to amuse me. Part of me was glad he hadn't been talking about Syd'nee. Although that wasn't possible. Nobody here knew of Syd'nee and I's... well, whatever you'd call it. 

 "Sharonia? Or Shawhna?" I chuckled, still relieved. Izzy inclined his head slightly, his mouth slightly agape before he grinned. 

"Wait, there's two of 'em?!" I was just about ready to gift him with a chuck upside the head when there was an abrupt knock on the wooden door, a small head peaking through the crack, forest green orbs scanning the room carefully. 

"Sweetheart? You awake? May I come in?" My brain quickly correlated the voice as my Mother's, Queen Malisha and I unhesitatingly rushed toward the door to fling it open, hurriedly taking my Mum into my arms. "Oh, honey! I've missed you so much!" She cradled my head into her chest as I craned lower awkwardly into her 5'1 petite frame.  

"Mum..." I cleared my throat loudly whilst casting a glance over to Isaiah, who was doubled over in silent laughter. I flipped him the finger whilst clearing my throat once more. She finally released her hold on my head to kiss either of my freshly shaven cheeks, nose, eyelids and chin. The pads of her thumbs gently running across my jawline to align our faces directly in front of each other, both our eyes an intense shade of green.

"Happy 21st birthday, my dear son."  I blinked, suddenly taken aback. What? Today wasn't my birthday... It couldn't be. Or...? My hues quickly scanned the digital calendar that was mounted beside the door to my extravagant walk in closet. 

 1/1/15

Oh, shit. It was my birthday. 

"Come, Cleo, come. I have a surprise for you." Mum's voice quickly drew my attention, but I made no progress to respond, she grabbed onto my arm and began tugging me out the bedroom door and into the hallway, but all I could focus on was the sole fact that I'd forgotten it was my own birthday. I was finally 21, for any normal man it was going to be a night filled with booze, women and partying But for a Prince, it was the night he would become King. Well, it was in my books. 

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A/N: We've disclosed a picture of Queen Malisha's character (Demi Moore) to the side of the story! Go check it out!