I was born to be left out. Yes, I was a prince, but just one of them, and by no means the youngest or the oldest. I wasn’t next in line, and I wasn’t the one who got all the attention from mother either. I was just there. However, I was still old enough to be the second prince, and the one who noticed it most was my older brother. His eyes were set on the throne, and since we were only two years apart, he wanted to get rid of me too. He was watching me all day every day, waiting for me to make a mistake, waiting for me to make a move. Even if I didn’t do anything, he was watching, he was waiting for a chance, the right timing.
Royal politics was dangerous. Everyone was family, but everyone was foe.
One person, though, I knew would never be my foe.
Her name was Rosalie. Like me, her hair was a very pale blonde, silvery in the light. She had auburn eyes that radiated the most passionate warmth. She was petite, and in my arms, she felt so small, as if I would break her if I’d held her too tightly. Rosalie was the daughter of a duchess. Her mother was an honorable woman, but she’d always told Rosalie that she was in no position to be too close with a prince–her heart would only be broken.
But Rosalie, she stayed by my side, no matter what anyone else said. “Your brother,” she once whispered as we were walking in the garden, “Will remove you when he succeeds the throne.”
“He might do something to you first to make me oblige to something,” I added, thoughtful. “Maybe we could run away.”
“Don’t be silly, Midas,” she said. “His eyes are in every corner of the universe.”
She clasped her hands together in worry. Seeing that, I held her hand. “We’ll be alright.”
“Oh, Midas.” She stopped walking then, and put her hand to my cheek. “Don’t lose yourself in these battles.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I have the whole world to protect.”
“The whole world?”