The Concubine

1: The Red Prince

The mornings following the Blood Moon were the worst, and the whole Kingdom of Laveau agreed with Alastor on this. If they were lucky, there were only a collective sleepless night because of the howl of the Beast, but if not... well, you could find dismembered bodies in unlikely places from allies to roofs, and that only in the city –like that morning. To look for the disappeared ones in the surrounding forests was always a nightmare.

For the Red Prince, it meant to wake up sore and aching. If HE was lucky, waking up naked in the middle of a magic barrier at the Royal Gardens, if not, waking up naked in the middle of nowhere with a taste of blood in his mouth, dried blood in his hair and hands, and no memory of whatever happened –just like that morning. And the embarrassing return to the Palace without anyone noticing his state was such a nightmare.

Being Laveau's dirty little secret was a part of his life since he turned thirteen. Just like his father. And his grandfather. And much likely his descendants, if he ever changed his mind about physical intercourse. How his mother dealt with it for years while running a kingdom all by herself was an amazement for him, but it was also one of the many reasons Alastor loved and admired her. Now he had to get back to be sure she was alright, so he found himself cleaning the blood in the neatest side of a swamp, covering the family jewels with a branch, squinting his brown eyes to see something without glasses and desperately looking for the nearest road. Depending on it, he could either find a squad of the Royal Army or walk around naked to the Palace, or with something borrowed from an unwatched clothesline.

It didn't take long before he finally recognized a raspy voice not so far.

-...take that path, and you three look over the bogs. We'll reunite here in an hour.

-Yes, Captain!

The one giving the orders was a man with two white strikes on his black hair, a black thin moustache perfectly trimmed, golden sharp eyes under thick eyebrows and the black and white uniform of the Royal Army with golden medals announcing his high rank. A red embroidered cloak fluttered gracefully in his wake, and hanging on his belt were a toledan sword and a pair of custom made pistols, all of them adorned with gold filigrane at the handles. Tied to his horse was a beautiful pitch black deer, with a saddle decorated in gold and a large black hooded cloak folded over it.

Thanking the Loas, Alastor breathed in relief and waited until the soldiers left. Only then he got out of the bushes and greeted the Captain.

-Husk!-he cheered, wide smiling and trying his best to cover his crotch with the branch-My loyal friend, what brings you here in this bright morning?

-Meh, looking for Prince Moron who broke out last night -replied the Captain, giving Alastor the cloak and a pair of glasses he took from his pocket. -You know, the usual.

-Bête-murmured Alastor, putting on the cloak and the glasses and ridding the black deer. The cloak covered all his body, giving the impression of an enormous shadow. -Is my mother alright?

-You won't see her 'til you stop stinking like a fucking bog. I mean, I don't know how Ombre lets you ride him smelling like that.

-Right now, I prefer my mascot's opinion on the matter, thank you.

In a better circumstance, nobody would have doubted Alastor's royal position. The prince was tall and charming, with chocolate colored eyes behind a pair of gold-framed glasses and brown and curly hair, normally neatly arranged. He usually wore red or black uniforms which gained him the nickname of Red Prince, and made him look gallant, favouring his tanned skin, and a white, perfect and wide smile that either could melt a heart or gracefully menace without a single word. He was so glad he took after his mother more than his father, whose simple memory still made him shiver and his smile falter.