Tippy’s note: This is the part that everyone has been waiting for, and I have been most excited to share. Basically, the moment where Liam and Harrold meet for the first time is the genesis of this whole series. Harrold has a lot of anger towards Liam for what happened in Cordonia, namely the scandal, as well as what Liam is asking Halle to take on. Harrold does use racialized language to mirror the language that he reads when he reads about his daughter as well as to make Liam feel uncomfortable.
Disclaimer: Choices owns this and I do not.
Hours earlier…
It was a humid day in North Carolina. Liam was thankful he didn’t go with his usual casual outfit. His cashmere sweater and button down would have been soaked with sweat by the time he got from the car to the porch. Not all of the sweat would have been from the oppressive heat.
He was at Halle’s family home, about to knock on the door to see if she would come home with him. Bastien and Mara were standing behind him. Olivia was confident that Halle was still in love with him, but right now he wasn’t sure. The only way he would know for sure was behind that door.
He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
A stern, gruff voice called out, “Just a minute. You better not be Jehovah, this is a Baptist household!”
A puzzled look washed over Liam’s face. He quickly regained his composure as the man opened the door. He was tall with a muscular, commanding frame for a man of his age.
“Yes. Hello, are you Harrold Berry?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Right. I should introduce myself. I am Liam—”
“Oh, right,” Harrold interjected.
Liam could hear the sound of recognition in his tone. He offered a small smile.
“You are the man who didn’t think to ask me for permission to marry my daughter.”
Liam’s head reflexively jerked back. Harrold’s bluntness took him by surprise.
“Well, don’t just stand there. C’mon in.” He peered behind Liam and then added, “Your lil’ friends can come too,” gesturing to Bastien and Mara.
Inside, Liam stood in the Berry’s living room. Pictures of the family were everywhere. They were on shelves in the TV stand, on top of the fireplace, on the side table. Even along some of the walls. The house was covered in memories of the family. Liam’s eyes were drawn to all of the pictures, especially those of Halle. The photos were so different than all of the ones at the palace. In his home, there are portraits, mostly oil paintings of past kings and rulers. The few actual photos that were hung were not private candids taken by Constantine, Regina, or even his mother. They were taken by the press or by the Crown’s official photographer, Mario Di Bacco.
Seeing the photos of the Berry Family, by them told their family history in a way that the ones at the palace didn’t. When he looked at his family photos, he doesn’t get a warm feeling. Compared to Halle’s family, the Royal family looked sterile and cold. He didn’t even know the context for any of these moments, but he already feels the warmth and intimacy of them. He thought about some of the photos taken by Maxwell and the one he and Halle took on the top of the Eiffel Tower. He remembered that night whenever he looks at it.
Liam paced around the living room absorbing all of the memories. He picked up a small frame on the TV stand that had a picture of Halle when she was young. She was holding a doll made of yarn and cradling it like a baby. Another photo had Halle on the back of a boy, older, looks like Harrold. Liam assumed that the young boy had to be Halle’s brother.
He didn’t know that she had a brother. Up until 20 hours ago, he assumed Halle was born in New York.
The frame next to that had two pictures, hinged together like a book. The first was a picture of the boy that had Halle on his back, but he is at least ten years older. He was much taller and wearing a crown and posed hugging a woman in front of him. She was wearing a crown too. Both had sashes. He could only read hers. Howard Homecoming Queen. On the other side of the hinged frame, a younger Halle and a young man were in a similar pose. No crowns. The young man had deep umber skin and short hair. They were both smiling. Unlike the other photo, the young man in Halle’s picture held her closer. Liam felt a small ripple of jealousy course through his body.
This was more than a decade ago, calm down, he told himself.
Liam kept looking at photos of the Berrys’ lives. He saw Harrold’s wedding photos to Halle’s mother. Harrold in the ocean holding a young Halle in the water. In another frame was a set of pictures of Halle in a white gown and long straight hair. She was on the arm of another man, with much lighter skin and almost bald. The next picture had Halle and the young man in the center of a few other couples. A third showed Halle and the young man in a ballroom pose.
Looking at the photos stirred a myriad of emotions for Liam. On the one hand, he was fascinated. During the social season, when he would lie in his bed at night, thinking about Halle, he would wonder what she was like as a child. Was she as mischievous and lively as the woman she became? Was she a happy child? He is actually getting answers to that.
On the other hand, the photos only highlighted how little of Halle he knew. Liam knew her personality and temperament. The basics. She never talked about her childhood in depth. He didn’t even know she was born in North Carolina. Seeing these moments of her life, sparked a sense of sadness in Liam. Halle had a whole life before him that he didn’t know or could begin to comprehend.
As Liam was looking at the pictures, Harrold returned to the living room with sweet tea. While the gesture was hospitable, Harrold’s attitude was far from it.
“I suppose you and your friends are not used to the heat of the American South,” Harrold explained as he handed glassed to Liam, Bastien, and Mara.
Bastien and Mara took a sip and puckered their faces at the intense sweetness. Liam sipped and had a less dramatic reaction. He thanked Harrold for the drink.
“I figured you shouldn’t die of thirst while you explain your business here.”
“Thank you for being so generous to speak with me and welcoming me into your home, Mr. Berry.”
Harrold turned away, settling in his Lazyboy. Liam sat opposite him on the sofa. Still holding one of the pictures of Halle in his hands. Bastien and Mara remained standing behind him.
“Seeing that you and my daughter are betrothed, I guess you should call me Harrold.”
Liam nodded. He was still looking at the picture he held in his hands. His knowledge of American traditions and culture was limited at best. He knew some things, but anything region-specific was outside his depth. His brow furrowed as he tried to understand what he was looking at.
“Harrold, I thought America didn’t have titles?” Liam asked gesturing to the picture.
Harrold looked confused for a moment. Liam turned the picture towards the older man. He looked at the picture Liam was holding and laughed.
“America doesn’t,” Harrold confirmed. “You are looking at pictures from Halle’s cotillion.”
Confusion remained on the younger man’s face.
“Cotillions are balls, mostly in the south. Initially, they were events for the wealthy, usually white, to introduce their daughters to eligible wealthy men that they could marry.”
Liam looked at Harrold while he continued explaining.
“After slavery was abolished in the US, and the Civil War ended, a few black families managed to acquire some money and status. Naturally those families wanted to do the same, but of course, were not allowed.”
Harrold swallowed some of the saliva that was collecting in his mouth.
“Wealthy and not even middle-class whites did not want to mix with any kind of black, regardless. Like we always do, because we are usually forced to, instead of complaining, we made our own.”
“Wealthy black people came together and started their own cotillions. They expanded it to allow for anyone regardless of class to participate, as in you didn’t have to come from a prestigious or wealthy family. At some point, the cotillion became closely linked with fraternities and sororities.”
Harrold pointed to Halle’s portrait.
“Halle’s cotillion was organized by Delta Sigma Theta.”
Liam was not entirely familiar with what a fraternity or a sorority was. He tried to remember that to Google on his own time later. Google was going to be a handy resource while with Halle’s family as it has been with Halle.
“Black cotillions are not just about introducing young eligible women to get married. They are about scholarship and community service. Sure Halle in that picture is in a beautiful gown and has a fresh press.”
Liam raised an eyebrow at “fresh-press.”
“What you don’t see is the 50 hours of community service Halle had to complete, plus countless trips with the Deltas learning things like etiquette and dancing but also how to negotiate salary with a prospective employer.”
Liam listened to Harrold realizing that Halle’s adaptability during the social season was a lot less happenstance than he thought if she went through all of this just to participate in a ball. He had to wonder why he felt it was happenstance at all. Was it because he met her as a waitress?
He placed the picture on the coffee table between them, returning his attention to Harrold.
“I didn’t know about any of that. Do all Black Americans do cotillions?”
Harrold shook his head. “No. Halle wouldn’t have if Joanne didn’t insist.” A small frown formed on his face.
“I think it was because Joanne didn’t get to when she was Halle’s age, and she didn’t want Halle to not have that experience.”
“I see.”
The two remained seated, letting the silence settle between them. The silence was cut by the sound of Harrold sucking his teeth. He finished the rest of his sweet tea and put the glass on the table with an audible thud.
Harrold looked at the young man before him. He knew that he should welcome this man because his daughter loved him. Harrold swore that he would never be that father with a shotgun on his porch. It wasn’t until today that he understood them.
Harrold cleared his throat. “I know you didn’t come here just to learn about cotillions.”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I came to talk to Halle. Do you know where she is?”
“Halle went shopping with her mother and should be back shortly. You didn’t come here just to talk.” Harrold eyed Bastien and Mara suspiciously.
“You wouldn’t need muscle to talk,” Harrold said gesturing to Bastien and Mara. “You came to make her come back.”
“I would never force Halle to come back, but I am a king. I need to have security with me. Mara is actually Halle’s detail.”
Mara weakly waved behind Liam, quickly returning her hand to the side.
“If—”
“And that is if—”
Liam’s jaw stiffened, and he continued, “If Halle decides that she wants to come back, she will need to have security with her.”
Harrold leaned forward in his seat. “Did Halle have security when that man showed up in her room?”
Liam’s eyes widened as he pressed his back into the sofa. Bastien stood a little straighter, and he held his hands behind his back tighter.
Harrold’s eyes narrowed as he continued, “What about when someone took photos of my daughter half-naked? Or how ‘bout when she was shot at was there security then?”
Liam remained silent. His mouth became a small line. What response could he possibly offer Harrold to assuage the ways that he failed his daughter?
“I am sure you are a decent man, at least to Halle, but you can see my reservations with you marrying my child.”
“Harrold, I cannot possibly begin to imagine how you must feel. I know that Halle’s time with me has not been the easiest, to say the least. I can offer 1,000 apologies, and it would not begin to scratch the surface. What happened to Halle, that it happened under my watch. Not being able to prevent it is my greatest regret.”
“So you plan to make up for it by making my daughter into some kind of trophy? A possession for you to dress up and parade on your arm? Your negress trinket?”
Liam flinched when he heard that word. He was prepared to have Halle’s father, not like him, there may be convincing, he wasn’t ready for this. Even so, he knew that Harrold’s anger was reasonable. Liam has been in meetings and negotiations that were far tenser than this, but this was the most uncomfortable he has ever felt. Knowing that he had to press on. The stakes were too high. Everything had to go on the table. He gulped.
“No, sir. I love Halle. I have been in love with her since the night I met her in New York. I never expected to see her again after that night.”
The older man, let Liam continue. Listening intently.
“The night she set foot in Cordonia was the greatest surprise of my life. I was impressed with how seamlessly Halle fit in Cordonia. The more time I spent with her, the deeper in love I fell. The moments we had together were never enough. I have heard about how wonderful and beautiful love is, but I never truly comprehended how powerful or transformative love can be until I met your daughter.
“All of this to say that I do not want to possess Halle like a doll. I want Halle to be my wife and to stand by my side as queen. I want to give her the world.”
Harrold’s gaze never left Liam. The intensity never wavered or softened. Liam felt the full weight of his scrutiny, and he knew it. He took a deep breath and spoke.
“I know that you think you know Halle. What her life was like before you. What you assume Halle’s life would be like once you marry, have children. Live your ‘happily ever after.’”
Now it was Liam’s turn to lean into Harrold. Returning his gaze.
“I look at you, and I worry. I am fearful for my child. Liam, you say you want to give Halle the world, but I don’t think you know or understand what the world has given Halle.”
The younger man’s jaw tightened, he balled his hand into a tight fist.
“You want to take my child and make her a target. The fact that you are so willing to thrust her out there tells me that you don’t know her.”
“What don’t you think I know, Harrold?” Liam challenged. “There is something you want to say about me, and you should just say it.”
“Want me to say it? Spell it out for you, Your Highness?” Harrold asked as he stood.
Liam gave a curt nod, rising to stand with him.
“Fine. You don’t know anything about being with a Black Woman!”
Liam’s eyes widened. He couldn’t ball his fist any tighter.
Harrold bellowed, “You are just not prepared for the scrutiny and malignment that you are asking Halle to subject herself to, to be by your side. You will have Black children that you will have to raise.
Sure you are a King, you can give them the best education money can buy, no material possession is out of their reach. As soon as your children, my grandchildren,” Harrold said pointing to his chest. “Leave your golden palace, they would not be seen as a prince or a princess they would be seen as a threat. The world will have judged them before they have even said ‘hello.’ I have watched it happen to my son and daughter. You are not prepared for that!”
Liam shouted,“Cordonia is not America!”
Harrold stood back and gave a small smile as if he appreciated Liam’s loss of control. He shook his head and laughed to himself.
“Are you sure about that?”
Liam looked at Halle’s father, his eyes wild with anger.
“Have you read what some of your news outlets have said about Halle? What about the comments on those posts calling her every racial slur imaginable? Those are not all Americans. Most people from the US probably do not know that your country exists, let alone find it on a map.
Those comments, the niggers, the blackies, those are from your own people Liam. Halle being American is not the only problem they have with her. You should know that better than anyone or have you not looked at yourself in the mirror?”
Liam furrowed his brow and sat down. He hasn’t thought about looking or being different for a long time. Being born second in line to the throne may protect from some of the apparent prejudice. It doesn’t protect you from all of it. His mind flashed back to Leo telling people Liam was adopted and not his brother when he was younger, or some of the Greek think pieces on how different Cordonia would be under his rule just because he didn’t look like any of the previous rulers.
The sooner you can stop being in denial about that the better it will be for you and her.”
Harrold’s words hung heavy in the air as he returned to his seat. No one spoke. Everything was tense. Both men waiting for the breathing as well as their heart rate to return to normal.
The sound of rapid footsteps could be heard on the wooden porch before the door flew open.
Halle ran in, turned towards the living room and stopped. She quickly noticed Bastien and Mara standing in her living room.
“Liam?”
He turned towards Halle. The both of them stared, caught in the pull of the other’s gaze. Several footsteps could be heard entering behind her.
“Halle why did you leave the—” Joanne said.
“Is everything—,” Rhon started.
Joanne and Rhon stopped when they noticed the extra guests. The bags of groceries they carried dropped to the floor as they watched Halle and Liam.
“Halle, are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like the jaw of the singing bass?” Joanne said breaking the silence. “That man traveled a long way to see you. The least you can do is say ‘hello.’”