Chapter 2

There are some ways in which Guardians are similar to humans, but there are also lots of ways that they are different. Both species have the same basic shape, although perhaps the Guardians are built a little more elegantly than humans, a little taller with longer limbs, but the two main things biologically different between Guardians and humans are their eyes, and their abdomens, two things held sacred in the moral code of the Guardians.

A Guardian’s eyes change colour, with mood and energy. They have a colour they resort to most of the time, of course, but other than that, when they feel strong emotions or lose control, the eyes change, adding a whole new dimension to the human theory that the eyes are the gateway to the soul. Blue, deep blue, is sadness and loss; green is contentment or happiness; amber is desire and lust; but violet, deep purple is the one to watch in a Guardian’s eyes. Violet is rage, loathing, hatred. And in a Guardian, any of the three violet emotions are wildly dangerous, their emotions at least twice as intense as human emotion. It is a major offense for a Guardian to force their eyes to betray an emotion they are not in reality feeling, as that is seen as tampering with how others see their souls, and if there’s one thing Guardians believe in, it is the purity of the soul.

The abdomens of Guardians are a heavily guarded secret, as a visual manifestation of the individual’s soul is marked into the skin between the blades of their hipbones, each pattern individual to each Guardian, although there are similarities within families. For a Guardian to show another their sacred Mark is a massive commitment, and casual exposure of Marks can lead to severe punishment.

That fact, Zeine learned for himself, the hard way, pretty soon after his nineteenth birthday. But that will come later.

By the time the Prince had turned sixteen, he’d discovered kissing, and his favourite pastime soon became cornering various servants around the Palace and kissing them, more an experiment than anything. It was interesting to see their reactions, mostly. Some freaked out, babbling about how he shouldn’t be kissing someone of their class or something in that vein, others bashfully pushed him away speaking of companions who worked in the kitchens, while a fair few actually reciprocated, flattered by the blossoming Prince’s attention.

And blossoming Zeine was. His dirty blond curls had gotten darker as he’d grown older, and straightened out into a slight wave as the length grew, resulting in a floppy fringe that his mother hated, mostly because they hid his brilliant azure eyes when he ducked his head at a certain angle. His jawline was surprisingly strong for his age, probably because of the hundreds of times he’d clenched it over the years.

He’d grown tired of his father’s punishments now, the innate fighting spirit of Royalty kicking in with a vengeance, meaning he probably got double the beatings he used to, mostly for talking back. A couple of times he’d lashed back with force, fighting the whip and the butler wielding it, but that only led to him being locked, guarded, in his room for days at a time, and it made him anxious not being able to sneak out to the mountains, so he quickly gave that up.

He was kissing a servant boy a few years older than him one morning in the cold of winter, in an alcove near the Palace doors, when the servant, named Jeromie, pulled Zeine back so the Prince cornered him against the wall.

“Sir, we should not be doing this.” He hissed, although didn’t even attempt to stop the embrace.

“You are here to entertain me, are you not?” Zeine pointed out, smirking slightly.

Jeromie shrugged slightly, hands curled in the young Prince’s lapels. “His Majesty’s going to kill you.”

“I don’t care.” He insisted, finally pulling back. “What makes you think I listen to anything my father says?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that you’re supposed to.”

“And you’re not supposed to kiss me, but you do it anyway.” Zeine grinned.

“Only because you order me to.” The older boy blurted out, and the Prince frowned.

“Really? But… Am I not appealing to you?”

Jeromie was quick to correct himself, eyes wide. “Yes! Of course you are, Your Highness! You’re the most handsome Prince this planet has ever seen!”

Zeine snorted in response. “Don’t be a kiss-a*s, Jeromie.”

“Well, you are handsome, Sir.” He insisted, hands sliding up to rest around the reckless Prince’s neck.

“Do you admire me?”

“Of course, Sir. Everyone admires you.”

“No, I mean… Do you admire me?”

Jeromie blushed. “I would not risk my job by kissing you if I did not… Your Majesty.”

“Excellent.” Zeine smirked slightly, leaning up on his tip-toes to kiss the servant again. “I won’t kiss people who don’t want to kiss me.”

“Prince Zeine!” One of his father’s ‘maidens’ gasped, having been walking past on her way to the gardens. “Jeromie!” The Prince sighed in a long-suffering manner, and turned to face her, Jeromie spinelessly scuttling away and back to his duties.

“Yes?” He asked, impatiently.

“You know the Emperor told you to stay away from the servants!” She scolded him, and he rolled his eyes, pushing past her.

“I never understood the logic behind that; he gets to make love to whoever he wants. Why can’t I harmlessly kiss a couple of kitchen boys?”

“Because your father is the Emperor, and you are still impressionable and young. He only wants what’s best for you, Sir.” She caught up to him easily, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off.

“Stop trying to be my mother.” He growled at her, eyes darkening irritably. “The royal family is supposed to be equal to their subjects, not above them. Why can I not mix with other adolescents? It’s maddening, having to amuse myself all the time.”

“I was simply offering comfort in your mother’s absence, Your Majesty.” James thought he should probably learn the woman’s name, but found himself content with being rude to her.

“I don’t need it. I don’t need anyone to mother me except my mother. When is she due back?” He asked, still striding down the corridors in search of a new playmate.

“Tomorrow evening, Sir. She’s visiting…”

“An orphanage in the Citadel, yes, I am aware.” Zeine snapped, and his father’s lover huffed slightly, obviously offended by the Prince’s behaviour.

“You and I could be friends, you know.” She insisted, and Zeine snorted. “I thought you said that Royals and subjects should be equal!”

“We are equal. But that doesn’t mean for one second that I have to like you.” He growled. “You’re trying to replace my mother, how can you possibly expect me to like you? You’re just a plaything of my father’s, only ten years older than I am!”

“Prince Zeine!” She gasped.

“Nothing but a b***h.” He hissed bitterly, his lip curling at the sight of her. Her own lip wobbled, and she turned away from him, sniffling quietly. He deflated as soon as she’d turned the corner, running his hand through his hair. “D****t, Zeine.” He muttered to himself, leaning against the wall. He was going to be in for it, now…