The Prince sat up in bed, sunlight stroking his exposed chest, the blanket pooling in his lap in a messy heap as he sipped from a delicate teacup. Sky blue eyes trained on Jeffrey as he entered. Jeffrey shivered. He hadn’t expected the Prince to be so…gorgeous. Skin pale, even for a nobleman, his pitch-black hair creating a stark contrast as it laid across his forehead, his arms and chest sculpted in muscle, elegantly chiselled rather than bulky. A spark travelled down Jeffrey’s back like lightning.
“Your Highness,” Jeffrey said and averted his gaze, bowing slightly.
“Don’t be shy, come closer.” Jeffrey did as bidden, keeping his gaze on the floor. “Did you have breakfast?”
“I did, Your Highness.”
“Shame, can I interest you in tea at least?” The Prince’s gaze fixed on Jeffrey, who felt it like pinpricks.
“Uh, I’m more of a coffee drinker, Your Highness.” The seeming kindness wearied Jeffrey.
“Hmm, can’t offer that, I’m afraid. Are you from further west of the Empire? I hear they like coffee more than tea.” The Prince sat his tea down, instead picking up a fork and piercing a piece of fruit to bring to his mouth.
“No, Your Highness,” Jeffrey said, wondering what he was doing here.
“You’re new to being a guard?” The Prince’s voice, cool and inquisitive.
“Yes, Your Highness, but I’m a skilled fighter and confident in my abilities to perform my duties as expected.”
“I’ve no doubt of it. Anything I should know about you? Any quirks, like falling asleep on the job or proneness to accidents?”
Jeffrey wondered if he should mention his penchant for killing, his general disregard for authority, or his dislike for nobility that wasted the opportunities their privilege provided them. “No, Your Highness.”
“Good. I don’t much like quirks.” A brief air of silence filled the room. The Prince shifted his weight, the blanket in his lap moving to reveal a trail of dark hair leading downwards from his navel. “Any chance you know my schedule for the day?”
“Only to the extent that covers my duties, Your Highness.” Jeffrey bit his lip. The sight of the near-naked Prince proved more distracting than he’d anticipated.
“Great, so until when am I free to remain in bed today?”
Jeffrey wanted to laugh and tell him off at the same time but managed to stay unfazed. Years of discipline were working in his favour now, keeping his body tight and controlled, giving him the appearance of being unaffected. “I don’t believe that I’m in a position to say, Your Highness,” he said respectfully.
“You’re in a position to answer me when I ask you something,” the Prince spat, his tone hard and cold.
Jeffrey restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He mentally added abuse of power to the list of things that quirked him. “What little I know of your schedule says there’s weapons training about an hour from now, Your Highness.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard. An hour gives us some time.” The Prince’s voice became a little less cold, instead sounding patronising to Jeffrey. “I like to get to know you a bit more. Where are you from?”
“Your Highness, with all due respect, I really don’t think this is appropriate,” Jeffrey shifted his gaze, sweeping his attention across the room. Vaguely he noted the opulent decorations of the room, too many patterns, too much gold.
“What exactly?” Asked with disdain.
“This,” Jeffrey said and gestured between the two of them.
“Us having a conversation?” The Prince frowned, pursing his lips. “Why would that be inappropriate?”
“You’re naked for one!” Jeffrey burst out, then cringed. His scorn for authority should not be tested against a Prince. “I apologise, Your Highness. I should not... May I please return to my post?” Jeffrey kept his head bowed, the Prince’s gaze boring into him.
“Do you not like what you see? Is that it?” Jeffrey opened his mouth to respond but clapped it shut, unsure how to answer. He liked the body he saw, he wasn’t so sure about the rest. Mentioning his low opinion of the Prince would be breaking protocols, however. “So that’s it. You don’t think I’m attractive,” the Prince stated, a menacing undertone in his voice.
Jeffrey’s face flushed. “Your Highness, it’s not my place to have an opinion. I’m here to follow orders and keep you safe. That’s all.”
“Everyone has an opinion. Tell me honestly.” It was a challenge.
“I apologise if I’ve offended, Your Highness, it was not my intention. Nothing I say at this point can make any difference. I humbly beg your forgiveness.” He gritted his teeth and bowed a little lower.
“You will answer me now!” The Prince’s voice rang hard and commanding. Its angry tone made Jeffrey look up.
“Your Highness, whatever I say, you’re not likely to believe me. If I said you’re very attractive, you would assume I’m only trying to save myself by flattering you, even if it was the honest truth. I could not possibly think you’re unattractive, nor would any man dare to say such a thing in fear of your anger. I once again beg your forgiveness and ask to be allowed to return to my post.” Jeffrey swallowed his pride to make the words come out. The tension in his body like a panther stalking its prey, readying itself to pounce. He kept it on a tight leash, taught with strain.
“So, you’re telling me that people lie to me all the time because they are afraid of me. That’s quite a nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met.” The menacing undertone returned.
Jeffrey bowed his head once more and remained silent, breathing deeply.
“You’re either remarkably brave or astonishingly foolish. Which do you think?”
Jeffrey bit his lips at the rustle of cloth as the Prince stood. He cringed, expecting the worst. He could not retaliate, he reminded himself, no matter what. Feet moved into his line of sight as the Prince stopped right in front of him. Jeffrey turned his head to the side before he saw more than he wanted to. While curious, he was not ready for it.
“Look at me,” the Prince said, his voice hard.
Jeffrey didn’t react, other than steeling himself. He tried to push away his thoughts, his emotions. The Prince may be spoilt, but it wasn’t for Jeffrey to concern himself with. All he had to do was keep him safe. He couldn’t let his own past affect him in this job, not when he’d managed for so many years.
The Prince took hold of Jeffrey’s chin and lifted it. Their eyes met; sky blue and sea green. A startled look, the hold disappeared. “Get out.”
Jeffrey blinked but did not need to be told again. Before the Prince could change his mind, he fled the room.
Back at his post, Jeffrey leaned against the wall, sucking down heavy breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened or why. The day had only started and already he wanted to do things that were in direct opposition to his orders. He ran a hand across his face, wondering how he would get through this.
Something about being in the Prince’s presence seemed to bring out claws he worked so hard to keep under control. He’d only been at the palace a few days now and each one got harder. Memories he believed dead and buried were resurfacing, haunting him. Faces he’d thought forgotten reappeared like ghosts.
He didn’t want to think about it. What it meant, where it came from. To think about it, would be to admit truths he didn’t want to see or hear. Instead, he cursed himself for agreeing to come to the capital, the centre of the Sycanian Empire, the place where all nobles flocked for their share of power. He should have known it would be bad, could even become dangerous.
Chapter 2
When the Prince eventually revealed himself, leaving his room, Jeffrey followed, keeping his face neutral, his body still tightly controlled and betraying nothing. They walked in silence along the corridor until they came to a door at which point the Prince stopped and glanced at Jeffrey expectantly. Jeffrey’s brows furrowed, he peered at the door which he knew led to the royal baths then back to the Prince.
; “Well, are you going to open the door or are we to stand here all day?” the Prince demanded.
“You’re not serious, right?” Jeffrey burst out laughing. Seeing the Prince’s eyes narrow and his jaw tighten, he checked himself. “Excuse me, Your Highness. I don’t believe opening doors is part of my job. Unless you feel it might attack you?”
“What is and is not part of your job is hardly your decision. I’m telling you to open the door and like the good guard you are, you’re going to obey. So,” the Prince gestured pointedly at the door.
“I do apologise, Your Highness. The memo about that must have got lost before it could reach me. I’m assigned to protecting Your Highness from harm. Anything not related to your immediate safety is outside the scope of my role and it has been made very clear that I must not overstep these set boundaries,” Jeffrey replied with the greatest courtesy he could muster while forcing himself not to laugh out loud. He could see the Prince clenching and unclenching his fists, at the same time as the corners of his lips twitched.
Jeffrey already didn’t care anymore if he broke protocols. Yet, a faint voice in the back of his mind called him to caution, reminding him not to play with fire by disrespecting royalty.
Their dilemma was solved when the door opened from the other side and a servant wanted to come through. Abruptly she stopped, colour blemishing her cheeks, she quickly bowed, uttering a “Your Highness” and moved to stand aside and make room for the Prince. The Prince sneered at Jeffrey and made his way into the room.
The servant quickly disappeared, her hands trembling as she tried to escape the Prince.
Jeffrey let the girl pass him, giving her a sympathetic and reassuring look before he entered the room and peered around, unsurprised to see it empty. A thin sheen of steam hung in the air, the smell of flowery perfumes mingling with it.
“Your Highness, as there is no immediate threat in here, nor likely to be any, I’ll be waiting outside.”
“No, you won’t. You will remain where you are,” the Prince said with a sharpness even Jeffrey didn’t dare argue with.
Resigning himself, Jeffrey closed the door and found a spot near the ventilation shafts where he took his post, trying not to let the heat in the room get to him. While he wasn’t wearing metal armour, his leather attire weight enough to make the heat unpleasant. He swept his gaze across the room, taking in its simple grandeur as well as the contrast to the rest of the palace. The room’s architecture reminded of more southern regions; thin marble columns surrounded the central pool, stairs led into the water at two sides, the ceiling covered in a detailed painting of Gaia, Goddess of earth, and her daughter Tempesta, Goddess of the sky and oceans. The entire room was covered in marble but there were no ostentatious decorations, no furniture other than a few marble benches, no wall hangings, nothing like the finely carved wooden cabinets and chairs that had filled the Prince’s rooms. Jeffrey had a vague sense of familiarity, which settled uncomfortably in his stomach.
He became distracted when he noticed the Prince had already discarded his outer robe and pulled a simple white shirt over his head, revealing a pale, smooth back. Muscles rippled underneath the skin while pale hands made quick work of the laces on the trousers. Jeffrey swallowed hard and wrenched his gaze away. Desire sparked inside him, utterly unwelcome.
A splash and Jeffrey’s head turned. The Prince’s naked form moved fast and gracefully, powerful strokes propelling him onwards. Muscles rippled, pale skin visible through the translucent water. It was no longer the temperature in the room that had Jeffrey sweating.
While he had chosen the spot to stand in based on the air flow, it had the unintentional side-effect of a clear view of the pool, and therefore the Prince. Unable to quite stop himself, Jeffrey watched him whenever he thought he would be unnoticed. The man was some character, but his body looked incredible. His skin unblemished and smooth, the strong muscles giving his body a definition that Jeffrey found rather distracting. The more he looked, the less he could stop himself.
“Tell me, alfio, how long have you been a soldier?” the Prince asked while leaning against the side of the pool, his arms resting on the marble floor, long legs kicking lazily behind him, shapely calves leading to slim and toned thighs and two firm, round globes submerged in translucent water that allowed tantalising glimpses. His black hair glistened, water dripping from the ends, running down his skin in rivulets.
Jeffrey was pulled out of his reverie with a start. “Long enough, Your Highness,” he eventually managed to answer.
“Can’t count? Or not enough of a veteran for it to matter?” The Prince asked with laughter in his voice.
Jeffrey chose to remain silent.
“How many assignments have you been on?”
“I stopped counting, Your Highness.”
The Prince laughed. “Clearly can’t count very well then. How far did you get?”
“Your Highness,” Jeffrey sighed. “I would not have been assigned as your guard if my superiors felt I lacked experienced. If you feel I’m unqualified, I would ask you to tell the marshal directly, I’m certain he will be able to find someone more suitable.”
“Your experience is not in question, alfio, I am merely curious. We’ll be spending a lot of time together going forwards, it’s nice to know whom I’m spending my time with.”
Jeffrey bit his lip. He noticed the Prince had not bothered to ask for his name, instead using his hair colour for a nickname. The derogatory term made his skin crawl but it didn’t seem like a good time to mention it.
The Prince sighed heavily. “Is there anything at all you can tell me about yourself without feeling like I’m prying or judging or whatever else you’re imagining?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Well, thanks for the honesty and the chat,” the Prince said scathingly. A shadow seemed to appear in his eyes, he turned away. Before Jeffrey could say anything more he’d gone back to swimming his laps.
After his swim, the Prince headed for a fighting practice with the marshal. They fought in a separate courtyard to everyone else, a place where no one could observe them, leaving Jeffrey to stand on his own outside.
When the Prince returned, his mood seemed changed. His body language betrayed little, yet anger and irritation radiated off him in waves. He barely glanced at Jeffrey before moving off. Walking behind the Prince gave Jeffrey the opportunity to observe him in great detail. His gait had changed into the kind of walk of someone that had been beaten badly, someone that hurt.
Jeffrey had seen it plenty of times. Many of his sparring sessions ended with his opponent walking away in a more pronounced manner of how the Prince walked now. The Prince also appeared to be cradling an arm occasionally, when he thought himself unobserved.
Jeffrey had not expected this. Could the Prince be a poor fighter, despite being trained by the best warrior the empire had?
They walked back to the Prince’s apartments in silence. After the doors closed behind the Prince, Jeffrey did not see him again for many hours.
The Prince’s advisor Ignacio appeared first. Jeffrey had been given details on the most important people the Prince dealt with regularly and who Jeffrey was expected to know and address appropriately. The picture he’d been given of Ignacio had not done him justice. Taller than Jeffrey by some inches, his black hair kept short, his face clean shaved. His skin darker than most but light enough to show a mixed parentage. Jeffrey knew Ignacio’s mother was the King’s sister. Married to a western Lord, probably in a marriage of convenience, common among the nobility.
The newly introduced genes worked well for the young man. His features were chiselled perfection, his chocolate eyes giving him a depth rare in nobles. Jeffrey could not help but think him handsome. Why did all these nobles have to be so good looking?
“You must be the Prince’s new guard.”
Jeffrey almost gasped. The Lord’s voice like honey, a whisper on a forest breeze. “Yes, my Lord.”
Ignacio raised an
eyebrow, his lips parting as he smiled, revealing perfect white teeth.
“Apologies, my Lord. I’m Jeffrey.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeffrey. How has he been today?”
“I couldn’t say, my Lord.” Jeffrey’s gaze was captivated by chocolate eyes that seemed to pull him ever deeper.
“No, I guess you couldn’t yet. He’s not been too difficult, has he?”
Jeffrey’s brow creased. Honesty would not likely be appropriate, but he couldn’t lie well.
“No need to answer that,” Ignacio chuckled, the sound running down Jeffrey’s back in a pleasant shiver. “He missed lunch, though. Has he been in his room all morning?”
“He went for a swim after breakfast and practise with the marshal afterwards, my Lord. He’s been inside his rooms since then.”
“Hmm.” Ignacio frowned. “Thank you, Jeffrey.”
There was something in the Lord’s voice, he seemed worried, his eyes showing concern. But for what? It could hardly be a big deal for the Prince to miss lunch.
Chapter 3
The sun sat low in the sky when the Prince set out for the Queen’s quarters, Jeffrey following at a short distance. On their approach, one of the Queensguard knocked on the door and as the Prince came to a stop, the door opened from the inside. One of the Queen’s maids stood on the other side. She bowed and opened the door further. “Your Highness, the Queen is still getting ready. You may wait inside.” The Prince nodded at her and entered. The door closed, leaving Jeffrey with the Queensguards.
In the morning, when Jeffrey had been sworn in, the Marshall had also given him some basic instructions on protocols to observe during the dinner. Standing outside the Queen’s chambers, Jeffrey could feel the gaze of all five Queensguards on him, assessing and judging. Based on his instructions, he should walk next to the Captain of the Queensguard. While not technically the same rank, in the absence of the Prince having his own Captain, Jeffrey took the same role for purposes of protocol. Jeffrey wasn’t confident he would be allowed to take that role. While the looks he received weren’t hostile, they didn’t seem friendly either.
Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1) Page 3