Chapter Text
Two and a half weeks.
That’s how long they’d been en route to Maldonia.
Princess Tiana had never taken so many types of transportation before—and, Lord, who knew you could take them one right after the other! It felt swanky and urbane, true enough. But what she hadn’t realized was just how taxing it would feel, too. From the instant they pushed off from the Port of New Orleans until nearly their last day aboard, Tiana had been seasick, wobbly, or otherwise ill-footed on the P&O ocean liner. So much so, that she dreaded the international pregnancy rumors that were surely forthcoming. And, of course, just as soon as she’d developed a mostly sturdy pair of sea legs, it had been time for her and Prince Naveen to disembark.
With the capital city of Maldaquesh their final destination—a place quite literally in the center of the country—royal guards had collected the prince and princess from the seaport before dawn, ferried them to the nearest train station, and loaded them into a private rail car for the day and a half journey still left ahead of them.
Finally, unsure of what hour (or month) it was, and still swaying a bit as if she were swabbing the top deck of a brigantine, Tiana was ready to step out of the locomotive and set foot for the very first time on land she would eventually call home.
Unfortunately, there was still a bit of travel left to go. A simple motorcar, so their royal attendants had explained, was already expecting them at the Maldaquesh railway station. And the castle, she was promised, was only a short drive away after that.
“Are we there yet, sugah?” the exhausted princess sighed to her husband, smoothing down the front of her already smooth dress. She paced the floor of their sleeper car as she continued to speak, “I don’t know how much more of all this travelin’ I can take.”
“It is quite a lot, especially the first time,” the prince called out to her, adjusting his necktie in the lavatory mirror. “So we will just have to make the most of this adventure, no?”
Satisfied with his looks—and they were quite satisfying—he sauntered out to her to see how his cream-colored suit looked next to her matching dress. What a perfect pair they made! He winked at her mischievously, offering her his hand. She took it, noticing the heat that escaped from their pressed together palms.
“Miamoza… mia pruta…” he exhaled heatedly. My love… my princess… He brought her fingers to his mouth to kiss them one by one. “I have wanted to show you my country… our country, for so long…”
Her travel fatigue forgotten, an urge to kiss Naveen suddenly shot through Tiana. She caved to it. Sinking into his arms. Homing in on his lips. They hadn’t been truly alone in ages, and she was aching to be with him, but this stolen moment before the next leg of their journey would have to do.
They kissed softly, nuzzling and nipping at each other. Then her man’s tongue slid rhythmically in and out of her mouth, his large hands wrinkling the once smooth fabric of her dress as he pawed at her backside. Tiana’s body flushed, her foot girlishly lifting off the floor. What she would have given to have the layperson privileges they enjoyed while abroad restored right now. To have the guards within earshot dismissed right now. To be the woman to his manhood right now, right now, right now…
As luck would have it, though, their royal locomotive screeched to a halt, and the two of them thudded against the nearest wall with an awkward WHUMP!
“Guess that means we’re here,” Tiana giggled at the irony of their timing.
Prince Naveen laughed, too, checking on his wife—before adjusting the sudden change in his trousers. “I will be having a word with that conductor.”
“It’s probably for the best anyhow,” the princess pouted, tapping the golden buttons on his double-breasted suit. “Time to get off this train and stretch our legs.”
“I would have no problem stretching your legs right here, miamoza,” he rasped, nipping her ear.
“Your Highness!” she whisper-gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I will not be caught ankles-up by the Maldonian Royal Guard!” Then, embarrassingly, she added, “...again.”
They sputtered in laughter once more as they left the sanctity of their sleeper car, walking together through the corridor of the train. Tiana smiled wistfully. Maybe she would miss all this traveling with Naveen. No restaurant responsibilities weighing on her. No diners to seat. No dinners to plate.
Excitement burned in her chest.
“It’ll be nice to finally see Maldonia,” she said to the prince, practically buzzing, “and to see how much little Ralphie has grown! Think he’ll still wanna do some bakin’ with me?”
“I have no doubt he will,” Naveen beamed. “The two of us inherited the same sweet tooth.”
“And your parents?” Tiana gasped, barely registering what her husband had said, “Do I… bow? Curtsy? Salute?” She bit her bottom lip. “How formal should I be? I already forgot everythin’ you told me. What did I do when they came to New Orleans?”
Naveen chuckled and turned to face his wife. “A small curtsy is fine, miamoza. Other than that, there is nothing else you need to do. If anything, this is a vacation for you, with me as your humble guide.”
The princess casually darted her eyes around the interior of the locomotive at the half dozen attendants and guards also present, then rested a cheeky gaze on Naveen.
The prince cleared his throat to correct himself. “I, and a small fleet of Maldonia’s finest, will be your guides.”
“He means well, Commander Balbir,” the princess said, addressing the nearest of their faithful guards. Then elbowing her prince in the ribs, she continued, “You’d think after workin’ with a restaurant team—both front and back of house—he’d be better at givin’ credit where credit is due!”
“Forgive me, all,” Naveen sincerely addressed the attendants and guards. “As my wife often says, ‘service does not make one a servant.’” He returned his puppy dog gaze to Tiana. “I am still unlearning much of this entitlement I seem to have, miamoza,” he cooed so only she could hear. “Can you forgive me, too?”
Tiana rolled her eyes at her husband, if only for the reprieve it afforded her from his deliciously intense stare. She squeezed his hand a little tighter, though, and said, “Just this once.”
And despite the fact that he was actively on duty, the corners of the commander’s eyes crinkled in amusement at his prince—and with respect for his new princess.
The momentousness of the occasion, however, still hadn’t settled over Princess Tiana. This was her first time on soil where her title meant something, although what exactly it meant she had yet to find out.
She would soon.
“W-wait,” she said, suddenly. “What’s that sound?”
She made her way over to one of the train’s windows and peered outside towards the restless hum she’d heard.
There were crowds. Lined up and ready to see them.
Ready to see her.
On the one hand, it was a thrilling spectacle. So many faces, almost all in shades of brown and brimming with anticipation. Every type of head covering and hair texture. Styles of dress befitting a multicultural, metropolitan city that still managed to pay homage to the country’s humble village origins. In honor of their arrival, most folks were wearing some form of the cream, gold, or teal that Prince Naveen tended to wear during formal appearances. The colors of the Maldonian flag. The colors she now wore, too. Of course, the expected bunch were there: reporters and cameramen, royal court members and officials. But a few working class people had managed to weave their ways into the mix as well, stepping away from their jobs just long enough to curb their curiosity. Needing a first glimpse at their newly crowned princess.
On the other hand, however, Tiana felt on display in a way she never had before. If she’d been thrust into this sort of spotlight to promote her restaurant and her cooking prowess, there wouldn't have been an issue. But she couldn’t hide behind her skills and accomplishments right now. This was about her truly fulfilling a role she had merely tried on up until this point. This was about the kind of princess she would be… the kind of person she was.
“Lord A’mighty…” she said to herself.
“Shall I open the doors, Your Highnesses?” an attendant asked, poised to unlatch the handle in front of them.
Prince Naveen had started to nod at the woman. But the princess stopped him, unnerved for a second. The prince turned to his wife, concerned.
“Tiana?” he asked, searching her eyes. “Are you alright, my love?” He rubbed both her shoulders as comfortingly as he could.
She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and tried to blink her vision clear, noticing it had suddenly gone hazy.
“Tiana, look at me,” Naveen’s voice was soft, his face close. “Is it the crowd?”
She found the strength to meet his heartfelt gaze, a shaky breath escaping her lips.
“You know, miamoza,” he nodded toward the few hundred people standing outside, “we serve more people than this at the Palace on a Tuesday.”
She looked out of the window again, taking stock of his words.
Then Naveen added, “Don’t tell me you are only brave with a soup ladle in your hand.”
His humor had broken through, returning Tiana to herself a little.
“It’s just…” she started, trying not to panic in front of all their guards and attendants who would surely report back to their king and queen about her less than princess-like behavior. “It just feels so real now…” She met her husband’s eyes again. “You really are a prince, huh?” She asked, half teasing, half sincere.
“Indeed,” he nodded. “Although, Miss Froggy, we have survived quite more unbelievable situations than this, I assure you.” And he inflated his cheeks with a ribbit that tickled Tiana so much her dimples burned.
Her feet stayed frozen to the spot just the same.
“I can have the crowd asked to leave, miamoza,” the prince offered. “We… we can find another way to the castle—”
Princess Tiana squared her shoulders, regaining her composure. Gently, she removed Naveen’s comforting hands from her arms.
“You’re right, Hop-along,” she said more confidently, “We have survived worse than this.” She reached for his hand and they laced their fingers together. “Stay beside me? I don’t think I can do this without you.”
The prince lifted their interlocked hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I am not going anywhere,” he promised. He looked to the attendant still ready to open the door and gave the woman a nod. Then he turned back to Tiana. “Shall we give the people what they want?”
Princess Tiana blew out one last calming breath. “I reckon we should.”
The train door opened. And together they stepped outside.
A single camera bulb flashed, spurring a chain reaction. Opening and closing shutters, prying reporters, gawking onlookers pushing forward along the path to the royal motorcade that awaited them.
Tiana’s senses were overwhelmed.
I can do this, she told herself, calling on courage she wasn’t sure she had. It’s like Mardi Gras, Tiana thought of the biggest similar event she could. A Mardi Gras just for you…
Noticing how the circulation to his fingers was cut off by Tiana’s fierce grip, Prince Naveen knew he had to do something. His wife was still so fraught with nerves. He smiled at the onlookers, emboldened from being back home. Wasn’t that boldness what he was known for here anyhow?
Without warning, he pulled his princess against his chest. Kissing her. Giving the citizens of Maldonia a picture worthy of what would appear printed in their papers the next day.
Tiana gasped against her man’s lips, shock widening her eyes. But as wolf whistles cut through the air and the clamor of the crowd rose up, she realized just how joyous an occasion this was. She closed her eyes and returned her prince’s kiss, riling up their audience even more. They broke apart a second later—panting and giddy—with two naughty sets of dimples reflecting on their lovestruck faces.
The princess’s courage tripled on the spot.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get another one of those?” she asked as they strode down the steps of the locomotive together.
Naveen placed a palm on the small of her back, not so subtly guiding his wife toward their getaway car.
“The sooner we are at the castle, the sooner we can be alone…” he answered through a painted-on smile, waving at bystanders with his free hand. The smolder in his eyes, however, was clear as day.
Princess Tiana batted her lashes at him flirtatiously, fancying herself a courageous Mardi Gras queen indeed. She waved to the crowd the same way her husband did, while also quickening her pace at the promise of privacy.
“Race ya to the Rolls Royce?” she dared on a whim.
Her prince grabbed her hand again, playfully pulling her towards the open door of one of the motorcars in their procession just a few yards away. A familiar feeling consumed them both. The very same sensation of happy butterflies they’d experienced while dashing out of St. Louis Cathedral after their second wedding—the people of New Orleans then, and the people of Maldonia now, paying witness to their love.
That was when a flicker of something colorful, low in the crowd, caught Princess Tiana’s eye.
She stopped.
That little flutter—of orange fabric? or leaves perhaps—had distracted her so much that she let go of her prince’s hand. She braved the flashing camera bulbs and walked toward where she’d noticed it. To her surprise, amidst all the day laborers and reporters now bowing before her, a girl of no more than five or six years had succeeded in weaving her way toward the front of the crowd, her little brown hands holding tight to the stem of a fire-bright paper flower.
Time froze for a precious moment as Princess Tiana walked over to the young girl and knelt on the ground before her, forgetting the fuss she’d made earlier over the smoothness of her dress. Confusion fell over the crowd. Should they all kneel too? They had never witnessed anything like this before. A few camera bulbs continued to spark, documenting the unfathomable moment.
Standing where she’d left him, Prince Naveen smiled at the woman he’d married. And though some of his guards had dutifully jumped into action in an attempt to steer Tiana back on course, Naveen held out a hand to them. A command to stand down. Maldonia, he thought, deserved to see her new princess for exactly the woman she was.
“Hello,” Princess Tiana waved to the little girl. “Or should I say, ‘Zalvé’ ...” she said in Maldonian.
The child waved back at her, too shy to speak.
“That’s a beautiful flower,” the princess continued.
Without answering, the girl reached out and handed it to Princess Tiana.
“For me?” Tiana said, suddenly full of emotion. “Well, look at that… and I didn’t bring anythin’ for you. Ain’t that rude of me.”
The girl’s brows knitted together. It was clear that she couldn’t fully understand Tiana. But before any international reporters could step in to translate on the child’s behalf, Prince Naveen knelt beside his wife, winking at her as members of the crowd nearest them bowed their heads in his presence.
“It would help if you could understand your new princess, huh?” he said to the girl in their native language. “Blame me. I am not the best teacher. Although I did teach our princess how to dance. So maybe there is still hope for her, yeah?” He chuckled, and the child giggled back, her smile adorably snaggle-toothed.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Tiana asked. Naveen relayed the question for her.
“Abeba,” the child answered.
“Abeba,” the princess repeated. “What a pretty name for such a thoughtful and pretty girl.” She paused while Naveen translated, twisting the wire stem of the paper flower between her fingers. “Ya know, I think this might be my new favorite flower. You made it all by yourself?”
Abeba nodded upon hearing the words the prince had interpreted.
“You know, Miss Abeba, you really made my day with this flower. I’m a mighty long way from home, but this helps me feel very welcome here. I can’t thank you enough!”
Before Prince Naveen could finish translating, they were interrupted.
“ABEBA!” an anxious voice screamed. “ABEBA!”
A frantic woman elbowed her way through the crowd, gasping as she broke through the frontline in such a hurry that her loose headscarf billowed out behind her, revealing tidily braided cornrows above a pair of worried brows. It was clear who she was. The resemblance between her and Abeba was undeniable. Relief washed over the woman’s face upon finding her daughter, but it was swiftly replaced with dread at the caliber of company she had happened to find her daughter with.
Abeba’s mother nearly fainted. Luckily, she didn’t. However, she curtsied so deeply before the prince and princess it was a wonder she didn’t lose her balance and topple over anyway. In Maldonian, Tiana heard the woman say a phrase she’d learned meant ‘Your Majesty.’ But Prince Naveen waved her off.
“‘Your Majesty’ is my father,” he said to her in Maldonian. “You can just call me Naveen.” He gestured toward the princess. “And this is my wife, Tiana.”
Despite the language barrier, Tiana hit her cue perfectly. “Obliged!” She waved with a smile.
Abeba pulled excitedly at the pleats of her mother’s salwar kameez, recounting to her about how Princess Tiana had accepted her handmade flower. And though the woman wanted to have a fit, she managed to smile down at her little girl, thanking Tiana and Naveen, not in words, but with a look that said, you’ve made my daughter’s day.
As touching as it was, the moment couldn’t last forever. One of the royal attendants approached quickly, tapping her timepiece. Prince Naveen rose, offering Tiana his hand to help her to her feet. But she turned to their new friend Abeba first.
Softly, she said to the girl, “One thing I always have to give is a hug.” She opened her arms wide. “Would that be alright?”
Abeba needed no translation for that. The chance to hug a princess?! She jumped into Tiana’s arms, her coily hair nuzzling against the side of Tiana’s face.
“Como me…” Abeba sighed as she held tight to her new favorite person in the world. “Como me…”
With one final squeeze, Princess Tiana let go of Abeba. She let her husband help her to her feet and waved goodbye to the little girl who’d shown her her first kindness in this new land. The princess had been so taken by that bright orange flower. Still was. So much so, that she held it by its wire stem next to her heart, feeling present. Feeling peace.
The sounds and shapes of the train station reemerged into the princess’s consciousness, no longer on the periphery. Though no longer anxiety-inducing either. She followed the edge of the crowd toward where Commander Balbir’s security detail was already strategically placed for their departure. The door to the back seat was opened for them, and Naveen made sure Tiana was safely tucked inside before sliding onto the seat next to her. As soon as their attendant shut the door for them, they waved their final goodbyes from the windows as the crowd clapped and cheered their sendoff. Then their chauffeur shifted into gear.
And just like that, they were off.
“You did tell your parents not to make a fuss on my account, right, shug?” Princess Tiana said. “We’ve already had two weddings. We don’t need a third.”
The exciting, unfamiliar sights of Maldaquesh zipped by outside: street vendors pulling treats from vats of hot oil, uniformed university students in zealous debate with one another, fruit stands with stray cats sleeping below and bands of monkeys pilfering above, stained glass oriel windows on townhouses, and rival tea shops on every corner.
Tiana tore her gaze from her window just in time to see fret draw her husband’s thick brows together. Comfortingly, though, he patted her thigh and scooted closer to her on the back seat.
“I relayed the message, miamoza. Multiple times,” he assured her. Then he added, “But… His Majesty and Her Royal Highness will do whatever it is they already intended to do.”
Tiana looked down at her bright paper flower, still twirling it. Still thinking of Abeba, but now also thinking of the myriad little Maldonian girls like her. Girls for whom she would be a symbol. A role model. A leader.
The words Abeba had whispered came rushing back to Tiana then.
“Hey, Naveen?” she asked him, reverently thumbing the petals of her orange flower. “What does ‘como me’ mean?”
He smiled at the mindful way she pronounced each syllable, and answered, “It means ‘like me.’”
She glanced at him, puzzled further by his response. Before she could figure it out, though, the prince interrupted her thoughts to say:
“We’re home.”
Tiana looked out of her window again. Her free hand flew to cover her mouth as she gasped.
Heavy, arched gates opened, allowing their motorcade passage to the castle grounds. Then, a long reflecting pool came into view, dotted all along its perimeter with intricately manicured topiaries, and tiled with glimmering teal stones. Next, came the facade of the castle itself. It was at least ten times grander in scale and design than Tiana had imagined. Much more colorful, too!
She remembered how her prince had told her it was constructed of “polished marble.” So she had been expecting something pale and austere. While the staircases, cornerstones, and paved pathways were ivory in hue, every exterior wall was a vibrant honey color, interspersed with large scalloped windows and balconies. There were also a dozen or so domed turrets flanking the main great hall, so remarkably azure blue that they blended in with the sky. And as their part of their motorcade pulled in front of the castle entrance, an enormous set of carved teakwood doors opened to welcome them inside.
To call it breathtaking was an understatement.
A matter of short moments later, Prince Naveen had exited the motorcar, helped his wife out of the back seat, and climbed up the marble stairs with her by his side. He grinned from ear to ear as he placed her hand in the crook of his arm, his dimples deep from want of this day.
Finally, he was taking his princess home.
At the top of the stairs, waiting for them, was a sight for sore eyes. His family, framed in the doorway of the castle’s grand entrance. His father, a little grayer at the temples. His mother’s usual poise replaced with happy tears. And his little brother, at least half a foot taller, who was choosing to ignore decorum and run straight into Naveen’s outstretched—
—Straight into Tiana’s outstretched arms.
That was alright. Naveen took the opportunity to hug his parents instead, letting his homesickness melt away in their group embrace.
“Virma Tiana! Virma Tiana!” Ralphie cheered, affectionately calling her older sister in Maldonian. “Did you miss me?”
“Only every day!” she giggled. “You ain’t been bakin’ without me, have ya?”
“No,” he shook his head sincerely. “I've been waiting to bake with you! Have you heard of nonpareils?” he asked, inserting a French word that Tiana was unfamiliar with.
“I haven’t, what are they?”
Prince Ralphie squealed at the chance to tell her something new about food. “They are little sugar balls that go on top of sweets!”
“Those sound delightful, Ralphie,” the princess said. “And you’ve tried ‘em before?”
He shook his head again. “Not yet, but I asked Amãe,” he said, nodding back at his mother, “to have the kitchen order some from France for us! After the ceremony, could we make beignets or cookies covered with them?”
“Wait…” Tiana paused. “C-ceremony…? What ceremony?”
She looked from Ralphie’s excited face into the faces of her mother and father-in-law, who smiled at her impishly.
“Yes, my dear Tiana,” Queen Uzma said, her voice as deep and beautiful as the one she gave her eldest son. “Your people have been expecting you for quite some time.”