Chapter 1: Zander
Kyler was my second command; we had grown up together, as many princes in line to the throne did with their second commands, or at least a lot of my descendants had done it that way. We were great friends, or as great as childhood friends can be before things get too complicated and life gets in the way. My father had talked about me getting married since I was young. I was his first and only son, and sometimes I wished the weight wasn’t all on my shoulders because when I looked at Kyler some days, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want a wife, or to make heirs or run a kingdom. I wanted him.
For a long time, I felt a responsibility to my family, my land, and my people. They were more important than what I wanted. I couldn’t let them down.
“Zane?” I heard Kyler question pulling me from my head. We were just fourteen, and it was only going to get harder from here.
I looked up, and into the mirror, I was sitting in front of, at both our reflections. He was behind me in the doorway.
“Your mother wants to know if you’re ready,” he stated.
I looked at my reflection, wondering what it would be like to be honest with him. How would he feel? How would he respond? Would he be disgusted with me? That’s how some best friends are when they find out their friends like them as more than friends, especially ones of the same gender. Other places were ahead of us, and some days I wish I were a prince there and not here. But I was a prince here.
“I guess,” I stated.
I stood up from the chair, but he stopped me, fixing my collar. I froze before he pulled away quickly without a word. I decided to take another step, and he didn’t stop me this time, but I wish he would have. I wanted to hope that things could be different. That fear wasn’t ruling us, but it was.
My father appeared in the hall.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied without a shred of hesitation. He hated when I hesitated; he hated indecisiveness, too.
“Come on,” he stated, nodding down the hall, turning on his heel and going back the way he came.
I glanced back down the hall, in the direction of Kyler, but he saw me looking back, and he turned away quickly, walking in the opposite direction.
I wondered sometimes if he had any idea how I felt for him. I don’t know what it would do for us aside from maybe making me less lonely. I couldn’t share my feelings with anyone without seeing the look of disappointment in someone’s eyes, but I didn’t know if I could ignore this feeling I had inside me and let it eat me alive, either. Who would I be then? Who would I become?
It got awkward; if Kyler noticed anything, it was that. Years of feelings and bottling them up and letting them float around in the crashing sea and get thrown around were causing the pressure to build, and every time we were thrown against the shore, rocks, or another current heading in the opposite direction, we were close to breaking. I didn’t know if that would be any better either.
I woke up early one morning when Kyler was supposed to meet me for breakfast to discuss our twenty-first birthday party, which we’d legally be allowed to drink at, and it was supposed to be exciting. We’d had alcohol before, at parties as teens, but now we could get drunk, and no one could say anything technically.
He was late, so I went looking for him. He was sitting on his windowsill with only pants on, looking out at the rising sun. I paused in the doorway, looking at him, the way the sun hit his dark blond hair, making it look white.
“You’re late,” I stated. “Normally, you’re the one who has to find me.”
He turned to look at me.
“My mother keeps throwing me at girls,” he hissed, annoyed. “I’m supposed to meet Melissa after we discuss our birthday plans. Melissa,” he repeated her name like it was the worst part of the sentence.
“I know we’re high-status people and all, but do I not get a say in who I like and marry?” he mutters.
“Not really, we’re doomed, pretty much,” I reply.
He looked up and over at me. I saw a vulnerability for a moment.
“If we’re doomed, can I ask you something?” he started quietly as if he got nervous suddenly.
“Sure,” I replied.
I didn’t know what to expect from him at this point.
“Close the door first,” he stated.
I stepped into the room further and shut the door. I really didn’t know where this was going. He stood up, and at that moment, I felt less like a prince and more like a person. I stepped into the sunlight, which was bright and warm. My hair shone orange in its rays. We were alone for the first time in a long time.
He seemed to be hesitating. I watched him, his eyes, his hands.
“This is stupid,” he muttered.
“You've got to tell me the question before I can determine that,” I reply.
He became flustered, but he was never flustered; he was normally steady and determined and followed orders to the T. His hands balled up in fists as if he was trying to control himself. I wanted to reach out and take his hands in mine and hold them, I would have if I believed it would help, but I didn’t at that point.
“Kyle, this isn’t like you,” I stated quietly.
“If I’m not going to get to like who I like or marry who I want,” he started looking up at the ceiling. “I want you to kiss me, I want to have something I want, even if it’s just a kiss,” he replied with a shaky breath.
His eyes were on the floor now.
I paused before I reached behind me and turned the lock on his bedroom door before stepping forward further. He watched me as if I was going to slap him, or as if I was supposed to be the one disgusted. Maybe he believed I’d rather hurt him than kiss him. That was what fear did to people like us.
I lifted a hand slowly, and he flinched, and I hated that he expected me to raise a hand to him for what he asked. I hate that he had the fear, I knew he did, we both did, but I wish we didn’t. I laid my hand on his cheek gently. He was taking deep breaths, trying to stay calm and composed, but it wasn’t working.
“Kyle, look at me,” I whispered.
His eyes were locked on the floor as if I was lecturing him and he was in trouble. He did that when he got in trouble, or his father was giving him shit because he screwed up. I knew the fear was real somewhere, but in this room right now, here with me. It wasn’t.
I snaked an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to me, my other hand still on his cheek. I leaned close to his ear, my breath on his skin.
“You should have asked sooner,” I whispered close to his ear before I planted my lips on his.
He froze for a minute before his hands found my shoulders.
Fear may have run rampant outside the four walls of this room, but inside it, I felt more at peace and like I knew who I was and what I wanted.
“Zane,” he finally breathed against my mouth.
Our eyes finally met.
“I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, quickly shaking his head. “I don’t know where this is coming from; it was stupid. You’re a prince, I’m your second in command. This was a mis—” I stopped him before he could say the word.
“Don’t you say it,” I hissed, annoyed, “You’re ruining it. I’ve wanted this since I was fourteen, seven long years, Kyle. Just stop. Let me stay here for a while, in the world where we kissed.”
“But—” he started.
“I don’t think you heard me. I wanted to kiss you since I was fourteen,” I hissed again.
He looked at me as he realized I was serious, or maybe he thought I thought I was serious.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
I gave him a knowing look.
“What do we do now?” he asks.
“I think I’d rather stay here than discuss birthday plans, wouldn’t you?” I ask.
I was attempting to rope him in.
Both of us knew the kingdom wasn’t going to change; neither of us believed we could change it either, or maybe Kyle didn’t believe, and I didn’t think about it because I was too caught up in the fact that he had felt the same all this time. Maybe I ignored all fear with him, and when I wasn’t with him, I ignored my feelings. It was a curse. A curse that would be carried on to our children.
I counted when I looked back, how long it was since we knew how the other truly felt, the kisses we shared. The looks, the days, and the time alone. While we didn’t discuss birthday plans that morning, we did discuss them eventually. The plans turned from a night out on the town to drinks alone at a hotel. It was the first time in a long while that we would be miles from home by ourselves. My mother called it a bachelor’s night, as if we were going to pick up girls and have a good time.
We did get drunk, but we didn’t pick up girls or even go to the bar in the hotel; in fact, we ordered room service with many bottles of wine, champagne, and beer. I wasn’t sure who tripped while we were laughing and teasing each other, but I ended up on top of Kyler in the bed. I looked down at his glassy eyes, and he reached up and swept my red hair off my forehead. I leaned in and kissed him, and this time he pulled me down and closer. Again, fear escaped us for a brief moment in time. I wasn’t a prince, and he wasn’t a second in command; we were just two young men in love. Or maybe I was in love. I wasn’t sure about Kyler.
We kissed and left bruises on each other that night, bruises that would physically fade but would be permanently etched in my skin for a lifetime, especially when I woke to an empty bed the next morning.
Where had he gone? Had he gone to get us breakfast?
I learned quickly he hadn’t done that. I waited for an hour before getting dressed. I noticed his clothes, and everything he’d brought with him was gone. When I returned to the castle by myself, nothing seemed amiss, other than the awkward looks I was getting from Kyler and the fact that he was avoiding me.
I learned quickly that Kyler had lied and said I went back to my room with a girl, and that was why he had returned early by himself. I was getting tired of the lies already, and it had barely been a month.
A week passed, and my father told me to go find Kyler because we needed to talk about me taking over. It wouldn’t happen for another several years, but they had to start preparing me because being king was a whole lot different than being in line to the throne; you had many more responsibilities being the face and head of the kingdom. I couldn’t say I was as excited as I should have been or wanted to be. The closer my coronation got, the more Kyler seemed to pull away. But I went looking anyway.
I stepped into the hall where Kyler’s room was. I paused at the sound of voices; his room was around the corner, and it sounded like a girl. I listened.
“Kyle, what did it mean? Because I like you,” a girl asked.
I froze.
“It didn’t mean anything, okay?” he sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m late.”
I heard the girl start crying.
“Isleen—” he started, but I heard footsteps running away before a young woman came running around the corner and past me, crying.
I watched her burst through the door before turning back to look the other way, where Kyler stood as if he was surprised to see me.
“What was that about?” I asked.
I wanted an honest answer, because if I was reading between the lines correctly from what little I had heard, something had happened with them, a kiss or something, and Kyler had allowed it to happen or instigated it to the point she didn’t know what it meant until he blew her off. She was hurt, but I was mad that he was taking my confession as a joke and still doing things with others without discussing it with me.
“She confessed, I told her I didn’t feel the same,” he stated.
That didn’t sound or look right in this situation. I wanted to call him on his bullshit, too, but I also wanted to just move on. I pushed him lightly back down the hall into his bedroom and shut the door lightly behind us, and for a second, we were alone again.
“Why did you leave without telling me?” I asked quietly.
He looked at me.
“We don’t want rumours, do we?” he asked.
There was his rational mind that made him my second in command. I hated it sometimes, though, because it aided him in his lying.
“You could have at least said goodbye or told me the plan,” I stated, scoffing.
He looked at me for the first time as if realizing he hadn’t only hurt Isleen with whatever he did, but me, too.
“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly.
I gripped the collar of his shirt, pulled him in, and kissed him again, his fingers tangled themselves into my hair. I wanted to forget about Isleen and about being left alone in the room, but I shouldn’t have; ignoring it was one of the worst things I could have done. To myself, and maybe to Kyler and Isleen, too. But Kyler had started all this; it started and ended with him.
“Come on, my father wants to talk about my coronation again,” I stated before pulling away.
I sometimes wondered who had truly roped in whom. Had I roped in Kyler, or had he roped in Isleen and me?
