Bound To Him: The Crown's Three Princes

PROLOGUE

"Doctor, I need you to tell my sons I'm dying."

Silence answered him.

King Adesiyan Gbadegesin leaned comfortably against his ebony cane, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stared through the towering windows of his private study.

Outside, the Kingdom of Ijomo basked beneath the golden glow of the setting sun.

From this height, the city looked almost magical.

Ancient palace walls stood proudly beside glittering skyscrapers. Oil refineries stretched across the horizon, their towering stacks sending ribbons of smoke into the evening sky. Beyond them, newly built estates, bustling shopping districts, and corporate headquarters painted the picture of a kingdom that had embraced modernity without abandoning its roots.

Foreign investors called Ijomo Africa's hidden treasure. Economists called it a miracle.

The King simply called it home.

For nearly five decades he had watched the kingdom transform from a modest monarchy into one of the continent's strongest economies. Oil, gold, agriculture, shipping, technology—every sector flourished under careful leadership.

His people were prosperous, and the nation was respected.

His legacy, however...

Was in serious danger.

"...Your Majesty?" the familiar voice finally came through the receiver.

"I beg your pardon?"

The King chuckled.

"You heard me perfectly, Bamisaye."

"My King..." the doctor said cautiously. "Did you just ask me to tell the princes you're dying?"

"Exactly."

"But..."

"I'm perfectly healthy."

"I know that."

"So why should I lie?"

The King turned away from the window and walked slowly toward his enormous mahogany desk, the polished tip of his cane tapping rhythmically against the marble floor.

"Because," he said matter-of-factly, "my sons have become impossible."

Doctor Bamisaye laughed.

"I suspected this wasn't about your health."

"It has everything to do with my health."

"How so?"

"They are the reason my blood pressure rises every morning."

The doctor laughed harder.

"My King..."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are."

"No, you don't." The King lowered himself into his leather chair with a weary sigh. "If you had three stubborn sons determined to die as bachelors, you'd understand my suffering."

"You've been complaining about that for years."

"And they've been ignoring me for years."

His gaze drifted toward the silver-framed photograph resting on his desk.

Queen Pearl smiled back at him.

Time had taken her from him, yet there wasn't a single day he walked into this study without speaking to her.

He picked up the frame gently.

"Look at your sons," he murmured, smiling sadly. "They're determined to drive me into an early grave."

The doctor cleared his throat over the phone.

"I can still hear you, Your Majesty."

"I know."

"And I'm fairly certain Her Majesty would disagree with your methods."

"Pearl also wanted grandchildren."

"That... is probably true."

The King's smile softened.

For a long moment, he simply looked at the photograph.

Their marriage had begun because duty demanded it. Neither of them had expected love.

Yet somehow, somewhere between raising three boys, building a kingdom together, and sharing countless ordinary evenings, duty had quietly become devotion.

When Pearl died, a part of him had gone with her. He had survived because he had no choice.

The kingdom still needed a king. His sons still needed a father.

Especially William.

The memory brought another smile to his face.

His eldest had stepped forward without hesitation, carrying responsibilities no young man should have shouldered while his father struggled beneath unbearable grief.

William had kept both the royal businesses and the palace running when everything else around them seemed ready to collapse.

"You would've been proud of him," the King whispered to Pearl's photograph. His mind no more on the still active phone call with Dr. Bamisaye. The Doctor is used to the King spacing out sometimes.

"He works too hard." The King continued talking to the picture.

"He smiles too little. And he thinks love is another business transaction."

He sighed before setting the frame back on the desk.

His eyes moved to three leather folders arranged neatly beside it. Each carried the royal seal, and the name of his sons.

“The reports I have on them tells me nothing about any serious relationships” he said, returning back to his phone conversation.

Doctor Bamisaye immediately recognized that he's talking to him again.

"You still keep tab on them?"

"A father has to stay informed."

"A king shouldn't keep dossiers on his children's love lives."

"A desperate king should."

The doctor burst into laughter again.

"You really have lost your patience."

"I lost it five years ago."

He opened the first folder.

Prince William Adebowale Gbadegesin. Crown Prince.

Chairman of the Gbadegesin Group, the future King of Ijomo.

The King smiled proudly.

"My firstborn could negotiate a billion-naira oil contract before breakfast. Frighten seasoned executives, and even terrifies competitors."

"And yet..."

He closed the folder with a sigh.

"...mention marriage, and suddenly the mighty Crown Prince disappears faster than smoke."

Doctor Bamisaye couldn't suppress another chuckle.

"The women certainly don't complain."

"They're lined up outside his office every week."

"Exactly."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is William does not want to settle down."

The King rubbed his forehead.

"He believes if he never truly loves anyone, he'll never experience what I went through after Pearl died."

Doctor Bamisaye ponders on what his King said, wondering if that could truly be the reason prince William was not settling down.

The King released a soft sigh, "Call my sons... and tell them their father may not survive the week."

"Ha! my King—"

"Just do as have commanded"

"As you wish my King"

The call ended, King Adesiyan drops the phone on his desk. He silently hope that his plan will work.

"It has to" he whispered to his late wife's picture frame.

Lola Benson drew in a slow, steadying breath before slipping her trembling hand through Nathaniel's waiting arm.

"Smile," he whispered gently beside her. "Everyone is looking."

That was precisely the problem.

Every eye inside St. Michael's Royal Cathedral was fixed on her.

Cabinet ministers. Foreign dignitaries. Members of the royal household. Business moguls. International media. Hundreds of invited guests had risen to their feet as the cathedral doors swung open, all eager for their first glimpse of the woman about to marry the Crown Prince of Ijomo.

Lola barely noticed any of them.

The magnificent cathedral, decorated with cascading white orchids and thousands of flickering candles, blurred before her eyes. The choir's voices echoed beneath the soaring dome, but the music sounded distant, almost muffled beneath the frantic pounding of her heart.

She had rehearsed this moment countless times over the past week.

Stand tall. Smile. Don