Chapter 1: The Crown Prince
The sound of heels clacking echoed through the halls of the palace. Queen Amara, a figure of fierce elegance, had been the driving force behind her husband, King Ramiel, and his greatness for years. She was not just a queen demanding respect and honor for the crown but a woman who had shaped the very history of Majestica. The image was important, but her influence truly made the Royal Family the shining image that everyday folks strived after.
Queen Amara was a beautiful woman. Her gold crown sat upon a head of long, silver locs. Her cheekbones were high, and her eyes were a deep brown, highlighting her mocha complexion. Her eyes could read anyone and any situation well.
The north wing of the Solstice Palace, a place that rarely saw attention this early in the morning, was now the stage for a significant event. There must have been a good reason for the queen to venture there. Her walk indicated an urgent matter, but her facial expression revealed nothing. She was skilled at never letting her emotions show, a trait befitting the grandeur of the palace.
The queen and her guards moved down the long hallway lined with 18th-century art. Each painting was of a historical figure who had helped mold Majestica into the nation it is today. In her hands, she held a paper rolled like a tube. At the end of the hall stood two royal guards, one on each side of the tall golden double doors embedded with diamonds.
The two guards gave the queen the “Solstice Salute.” With their feet planted firmly on the ground and their backs straight, the guards used their right hands to make a sweeping motion forward. As they raised their hand, they extended their finger outward, forming a shape reminiscent of the volcanic plumes that often graced the skies above the lush green kingdom.
The two guards opened the door for her. She entered the massive bedroom, a space that could easily accommodate two penthouse apartments. It was adorned with all the royal bells and whistles, a testament to the opulence and luxury that Prince Zephyr was accustomed to. In the center of the room, she found her son, 19-year-old Prince Zephyr, sleeping in the large bed, a symbol of his privileged life.
She quickly drew back the curtains, revealing the massive volcano known as Mount Solstice. The royal palace was built around the base of the volcano. The sunlight entered the room and slapped the young prince directly in the eyes. It did exactly what the queen was hoping for.
He quickly woke up. The queen stood over him, her expression now revealing a greatly disappointed woman. Zephyr sat up in bed. He looked at his clock. It was after ten, and he usually slept past 11. He was young and wild at heart.
“Mother, what is it?” he asked, highly irritated, having his sleep disrupted.
She slapped him across the face. His entire head turned with such force that his long, silver curls stuck to his cheek. He balled his fist, and his eyes quickly watered. He knew better than to raise his hands at her, but he wanted to do it so badly.
“Look at me, Zephyr,” she demanded.
Slowly, he turned and faced the woman he called mother and queen. It could be jarring at times, trying to separate his parents from their royal duties and titles.
“How dare you humiliate this family and the entire royal court? You shame me with your perversions,” she chastised him.
“I have done nothing,” Zephyr defended himself on the verge of tears and anger.
“Lies,” she said rather sternly. She unrolled the paper, and she held it up to Zephyr. “Explain this.”
Zephyr took the paper and stared at it. It was an article written about him, along with a damaging photo. His heart dropped to his stomach. He was once again the headline of another scandal. To make things worse, the article was written in The Royal Times. He was photographed at a club with people who were doing drugs.
“I thought the Royal Times were on our side,” he mumbled, his heart filled with fear. He couldn’t understand how they, out of all the news outlets in Majestica, could release such garbage.
“Side,’ she repeated in almost disbelief of his audacity. “There is no side as far as the press is concerned. They have a job to do. It is a job that you and your friends are making very easy, and that job is to accurately depict what is happening in the Royal Court with the Crown Prince.
“You can’t tell it’s me. I’m wearing the black wig to hide my silver hair,” he defended himself.
“You think because you throw on a wig, it protects you. People abroad may not know you, but the citizens of Majestica know who their prince is. You are too smart to be this stupid. Maybe we should cut you off financially.”
Fear and panic set in. “Maybe we should take a page from the Americans and call it fake news or alternative facts.”
The Queen twisted her face. She was completely unamused.
“You are the heir to the throne. It is time you started behaving like the Crown Prince. Your father is not getting any better. Daily, he gets worse. Your partying days are behind you. You are to be engaged by the end of the year.
The prince jumped up.
"ENGAGED? Are you insane? You can’t just do that. This is the 21st century. Why do you insist on upholding these monolithic values?” Zephyr shouted.
The queen smirked, “We have always done things this way, and it will not stop for you. I’ve taken the liberty of reaching out to the Prime Minister of the UK. He and his family will be joining us in a few weeks for a week-long holiday. During that time, you will take a liking to his son, Kyle. This is the union in which we will bless, as it will solidify the two nations as allies.
“How does my father feel about this?” Zephyr asked as he stared into his mother’s eyes.
“As a father, his heart breaks for you. As the king of Majestica, he bestows this task and honor upon you. Do not disappoint this family, this nation, nor the crown.”
“And what about you, mother? How do you feel about it?”
“I’ve never had to carry the burden of being a mother. I’ve always been the Queen. It would serve you well to remember that.” She spoke without an ounce of compassion. Her duties were always first and most important to her.
“I will not do it,” Zephyr told her as he stood firmly on his ground.
“You will do as you’re told. Your father and I have accepted your lifestyle. You will use it to the advantage of this kingdom. You will marry him.”
The prince shouted. “You can’t make me marry someone I do not love!”
The queen walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. She stared out across the garden and past the lush trees that guarded the palace from peering eyes.
She smirked. “We do not marry for love. We marry for power, and power knows no love, Zephyr.”
She walked back over to her son. The queen held her hand out for her son to shake. Queen Amara wasn’t just any queen. She was one of the most ambitious queens ever to grace Majestica. While everyone else played checkers, she played chess. Her duty had been and always would be to the crown!
THREE WEEKS LATER
It was like any other day in Majestica. Prince Zephyr rode his horse around the palace grounds with his best friend, Seamus. His silver hair was hidden by the black wig he wore. It looked like his real hair. No one would ever be the wiser that it wasn’t his hair. Seamus was beating Zephyr in the race, and the prince hated to lose. The prince decided to change things up a bit. He felt he was going to lose the game.
He stopped his horse, turned, and dashed across the field in the opposite direction. Seamus looked back and realized that Zephyr was heading in another direction.
Seamus yelled, “You cheater!”
Seamus charged after the prince. Zephyr knew the back gates were going to be open. The royal palace was hosting heads of state from other countries that night, and crews were arriving to set up.
Zephyr raced through the lush green trees surrounding the volcano. The gate was open, and a truck was pulling in. Zephyr raced along the side of it and out of the gate. Seamus was gaining on him. Zephyr looked back and smiled.
Zephyr giggled, “Seamus, there you are. You decided to stop playing around.”
“You cheated. Guess you’ll make a great king after all,” Seamus playfully shouted.
The two raced down the winding roads of the mountain. They took turns beating each other out. After an intense battle back and forth, Seamus took the lead. He moved faster and faster. Zephyr made his horse run faster.
Suddenly, from out of the trees came a young, beautiful man. Albeit it was a brief glance, the man’s beauty stunned the prince. Zephyr nearly ran the beauty over. The guy quickly moved out of the way. The prince slowed his horse down. He quickly looked back at the guy. He wanted one more glance. Not paying any attention, the prince ran into a large hanging branch. He flipped off the back of his horse.
The prince woke up. Standing over him was the beautiful guy. He was the most beautiful man the prince had ever seen. The guy held up two fingers. He felt drawn in by his eyes almost instantly.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked with this haunting yet elegant British accent.
“Two,” the prince replied with a charming smile.
Zephyr stood up and dusted himself off. He was embarrassed that such a thing had happened. He looked up, and the guy quickly placed a peroxide cloth on the cut above Zephyr’s eye. It stung briefly, but the Prince would not let that be known.
“Christ,” Zephyr exclaimed.
“Oh, calm down, you big baby,” the guy said.
“Calm down. I’d still be up if it weren’t for you. Who steps out into the middle of the road like that? Your name must be idiot.”
“My name is Leighton. Leighton Hawthrone, if you must know. Your name must be arse because you were driving the horse like an arse,” Leighton said defensively.
Shocked, Zephyr stepped back and replied, “My name is…I do not answer to you.”
“Well, you should answer to someone for your reckless endangerment,” Leighton said as he rolled his eyes.
“So should you,” Zephyr rebutted, quickly.
It’s quiet for a moment between them. They glance into one another's eyes. There, Leighton stood, an 18-year-old with deep, dark, beautiful eyes, gorgeous white skin. He looked like he had stepped out of an old portrait. He was tall, slender build. His slightly square face with high cheekbones went well with his black hair that rested at the nape of his neck. His lips were perfect for kissing. Staring at him felt like magic to Zephyr. There was a gentle regality about him.
The last thing Leighton had expected was to find himself standing before a reckless driver. Despite nearly being run and killed by the man, this was the best moment of his life. The guy was a beautiful, dark-skinned man. He was of medium height but beefy in a sexy way. His face was on the round side, and his lips were so lush and pink. His eyes are dark and mysterious. Curly black hair that hung just below his neckline. A commanding voice and a level of energy that could quickly draw anyone in. Leighton could appreciate a good-looking guy despite being completely heterosexual.
“Are you here on…what’s that word? Yes, holiday,” Zephyr asked, trying to break the ice between them.
“Depends on who you ask. My family is here to meet the royal family of Majestica. Tell me, have you ever met this prince?” Leighton seriously asked.
The question drew the prince in. His mind twirled with all the ways he could suddenly have fun.
Zephyr answered with a smile, “You didn’t Google him? Pull out your phone and give it a go.”
Leighton blinked. He didn’t like being handled.
“I tried. I couldn’t tell who he was in the pictures,” he replied. His voice was slightly firm.
“Well, I do work in the palace. I’ve seen him, but I do not know him. He is a strapping young lad: good-looking with that long silver hair like the rest of the royal family.”
“See, that’s just it,” Leighton said as he began to pace back and forth. “I did not see the hair in the photos of him with all of his friends and wild girls. It’s unheard of not to know how someone looks in the year 2026 with social media and the internet. Yet, this supposedly good-looking prince is well hidden. He’s hidden in plain sight. I wish to solve this case of the faceless prince before my family meets him.”
“Aren’t you the Sherlock Holmes of your generation? Your parents must be proud,” Zephyr said playfully.
Leighton glared at him as he stopped pacing. “Maybe. It beats working for an ugly ghost, though.”
Zephyr laughed hysterically. Him and ugly in the same sentence was a joke.
“Who would that be exactly?” the prince asked.
Leighton threw up his arms, “Your Prince! I mean, of course, you said he’s good-looking, but you work for him. I reckon you’d have to say positive things, or else it’d be treason.”
Zephyr cracked a devious smile. He couldn’t help but be drawn into the conversation and the presence of Leighton.
“Shall we go find him then? I’ll ride us up to the palace. Give you a bit of a tour, and then, hopefully, we’ll see Prince Zephyr as he walks the grounds.”
“Why do you say it like that?” he asked.
“Like what?” Zephyr asked him.
“Like some mischievous deviant,” Leighton answered as he began to circle him.
“Maybe I am,” the prince declared proudly.
Leighton pondered, “Perhaps I shouldn’t visit the palace with you. You are a stranger to me, after all. Apparently, a deviant one.”
The prince stood there and watched him carefully. There was something about the way Leighton moved that made the prince feel something stir deep in the pit of his stomach.
As Leighton circled him, he couldn’t help but smile. His eyes roamed all over the chocolate drop that stood in front of him. There was an air of mystery that surrounded the man. It made him intriguing and captivating. It made Leighton curious in a way he’d never been curious about a man before.
“Who are you?” Leighton asked.
Zephyr smiled and asked coyly, “Who are you? After all, you are the stranger here.”
“I already told you. I’m Leighton. Leighton Hawthrone.”
“Right, but who are you?” The words rolled off Prince Zephyr’s tongue like magic from a spell.
Leighton stopped moving. He stood face to face with Zephyr. Their eyes met for what was supposed to be a brief gaze. Yet, they found themselves looking deeper into each other for longer than they had expected. There was something brewing under the surface between them that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
Leighton finally answered, “I do not know. I have yet to be discovered, I suppose.”
“Pity!” The prince’s voice carried through the trees.
The prince took a step toward Leighton, and he closed the space between them. He allowed his grace, power, and confidence to pull Leighton in. He wanted him to feel all the sensations that overwhelmed him earlier.
Zephyr's cell phone began to ring. He knew that ringtone. It was Seamus calling. Time had caught them, unfortunately. Zephyr whistled, and his horse came to him. He patted the beautiful creature for a moment and then climbed back up on her. He looked down at Leighton. They both wanted to say more, but neither knew exactly what to say.
“Are we going to the palace?” Leighton finally asked, breaking the silence.
Zephyr laughed, “I am, but not with you. Like you said…I am a stranger to you.”
“Well, my brother is to marry this prince, and when he does, I will find you and give you the worst job in all the land,” Leighton informed with a straight face.
Zephyr narrowed his gaze. His eyes once again roamed over Leighton’s body. He grinned mischievously. His laughter offended Leighton.
“You find my words to be funny?” Leighton began. “We’ll see how much you’re laughing when my family takes over.”
“It would be impossible to assign me any tasks.” Zephyr’s voice was bold and playful. “Your family will not take over. Your brother will simply be a figurehead with no real power. Even if he were to have power. That power would not extend to you.”
“Oh! You think you would be exempt from my reach. I will have my brother’s ear. I’ll be the hand of the King.” Leighton added.
“You think this is like Game of Thrones? The hand of the king?” Zephyr laughed.
Leighton frowned. “You insult me yet again.”
Zephyr suddenly closed the space and distance between them. His body heat invaded Leighton’s space and his senses. He leaned in, and his lips nearly touched Leighton’s ear. His warm breath trickled down the side of the man’s neck. No man had ever invaded Leighton’s space like that before. It made him shiver in confusion. He wanted to push him away and hold him there at the same bloody damn time.
Zephyr whispered, “Oh, quite the contrary. I’d be within your reach if your brother is to marry the prince. In fact,” Zephyr’s voice grew louder. “I’d be your king. I am, after all, Prince Zephyr of Majestica.”
He stepped back and pulled the wig off his head. His long, flowing silver hair dropped to his shoulders. Leighton nodded his head softly. Anger, frustration, and admiration course through his body. He’d finally met the prince, and unbeknownst to him, he’d just become the object of Prince Zephyr’s affection.
TO BE CONTINUED
© Grayson Rose 2026. All rights reserved.
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