The Prince's Secret Twins - Introduction
Al-Sintra Family
Joran’s Story…
Joran kept his features blank as he watched his brother, in royal robes complete with sceptor and that ball thing that was supposed to symbolize something in his hands. This was a nightmare, he thought. Khal, his older brother by eighteen months, was now the ruler of Lativa! With their uncle and cousin gone, control of their beautiful country fell on Khal’s shoulders.
Joran shifted his military dress uniform. It was heavy wool and the ridiculous medals made the whole thing feel even heavier.
“Stop fidgeting,” Raj, his younger brother, ordered.
Joran sighed. “I hate this,” he grumbled.
Raj smothered a smile. “So do I, but at least we’re not him,” he whispered, tilting his head towards their oldest brother. “He looks miserable.”
Joran suppressed his own amusement. “Sucks to be the oldest,” he muttered.
Khal must have heard because he turned his glare towards them and Joran winked back. Khal didn’t make any sound, but Joran knew that his brother had sighed with irritation.
Joran looked around at the dignitaries surrounding this ceremony. It all seemed so pointless. But he knew that the public needed to see this. The public needed to know that Khal was in charge and he was ready to take over.
Meanwhile, Joran just wanted to get out of these ridiculous clothes and…maybe do some sky diving. Yeah, that would brush out the cobwebs that had formed over the past few weeks since his uncle and cousin had passed away. Nothing like a massive adrenaline rush in order to get the blood flowing and feeling alive!
Tila’s Story…
“This is it, Gramma!” Tila whispered to herself as she stood at the end of her new cottage, weeds in one hand and small shovel in the other. Of course, the house wasn’t actually “new”. In fact, the tiny home was over a hundred years old. But it was hers now.
“Sorry it took so long for me to get here.” She walked by a fig tree, brushing her fingers over the leaves in a caress. “I just…miss you so much, Gramma.” She blinked back a new set of tears. “I know that you had a good life, but we had so much fun in this home together. Everything reminds me of you.”
She walked along the perimter of the large garden surrounding her grandmothre’s cottage. Everything was cleaned up now. Tila hadn’t been able to come here after her grandmother’s funeral until now, so the garden had gotten a bit out of control.
“I’ll make this house happy again, Gramma!” she whispered and touched another plant.
“Who are you?” A strange voice called out, distracting Tila’s melancholy. Tila’s head swung around and she spotted an oder woman standing next to a man who could only be described as a man-child. He stood slightly behind the woman while wearing dirty jeans and a black tee-shirt with a rock band’s logo on the center. The man was approximately a hundred pounds overweight and it didn’t look as if he’d showered in the past week.
Tila turned and forced a smile on her features. No reason to alienate her neighbors on the first day! “Good morning,” Tila greeted the woman, tossing the shovel into the tool bin and extending her hand. “I’m Tila Ayad. Dinala was my grandmother.” She shook the woman’s hand, then glanced at the man-child. He shifted behind his mother, not offering to greet her at all. So Tila smiled fondly at the house. “I just moved in yesterday. I’ll get the house back up to her former glory.”
The woman huffed. “I’m Fatima and this is my son.” She shook Tila’s hand, then folded hers in front of her with a disapproving huff. “Homes are male, my dear,” she said with an admonishing tone. “And I’m relieved that you’ve finally cleaned up this garden. It was looking pretty messy.”
Tila ignored the admonishment and forced her smile to brighten. “It’s a delight to meet you, Fatima. I guess we’re going to be neighbors.”
The woman huffed again, looking less than excited at the prospect. “You’re young and pretty. But I’m warning you, we don’t allow loud, raucous parties here.” She nodded as if she’d said something profound. “We’re a nice, quiet neighborhood. We’re respectable!”
Tila didn’t take offense. Life was too beautiful and fun for a grouchy old woman with a painfully shy son to dim her love of life. “Yes, I agree. I expect everyone to be polite and considerate. It’s the only way that a good neighborhood can thrive, don’t you agree?”
Fatima blinked, not sure if she’d just been reprimanded or not. Still, she nodded, her jowls shaking ever so slightly. “Yes. Of course.” She hesitated again, then sighed, turning to face her son. “We’ll leave you to your cleaning then,” she replied and poked her son’s shoulder to turn him away.
Tila held back her laughter for only thirty seconds. But then she turned and looked at her glorious new-old home. Her grandmother had taken good care of this house. Now it was Tila’s turn to care for the old beauty! Life was pretty darn good, she thought and tossed the weeds into the compost bin before moving inside to shower. She’d miss her grandmother, but Tila was determined to be happy again. It was time to stop grieving and start living!
