Satin is Not Silk

4 | PROFESSIONAL

All of his life, Alex tried so hard to control it. It was an ever constant urge, like a moth drawn to a flame, ready to let the fire consume him. Ready to burn bright, until he was nothing but ash.

Alex liked boys. He always knew it, it was a longing he held somewhere deep and dark in his heart, like a blackhole in his chest he wanted to use to make the longing disappear. He liked boys when he was never supposed to. Why else would the same ends of a magnet repel? It simply wasn't meant to be. Then this mess happened.

It's the next day when Alex rises with a raging headache. He couldn't fall asleep last night, thoughts too heavy with images of the enemy prince that he wouldn't dare shut his eyes, scared that if he did, they'd only become more vivid. He wouldn't dare let Ezra's emerald eyes become a permanent engraving in his mind. It was then he heard a soft rapping against his door, and a strong voice saying: "Breakfast!"

Alex scurried out of bed. Having tried to stay awake as long as possible last night, he didn't pass out until the early hours of dawn, still adorned in chiffon. He ran towards his pajama set, which was strewn across his floor. "C-come in!"

"Good morning, Your Highness," said the servant. He walked in pushing a cart with several silver plated dishes covered in matching cloches. Alex was partially dressed, his shirt still around his neck.

"Oh thank goodness, it's just you." He gave his favorite and closest servant a weak smile. "Good morning, Ivan."

Ivan glanced over to the gown in which he'd chucked across the room in a lame attempt to hide it. "I see you've been having fun."

Alex scoffed. "If that's what you would call it."

Ivan was a man in his early twenties, only a few years older than Alex and quite dashing, much to his dismay. With soft dirty blond curls and dimples for days, let's just say he was quite popular amongst the female staff of the royal palace. In fact, although Alex would never tell anyone, he also secretly blamed Ivan for his brutal sexual awakening. He would die if anyone found that out.

Taking notice of Alex's cold and distant attitude, Ivan frowned. "Is something the matter, Your Highness?"

Alex glanced up at his face. His beautiful, sculpted, yet soft face. "Yes. You are the matter, Ivan. You and your face."

Ivan looked terribly hurt, leaving Alex to feel as if he suddenly kicked a puppy in the gut. "I-I'm sorry, sire. I can wear a ski mask, or a paper bag if you'd like?"

Alex laughed softly. "No need. I only kid, Ivan. You know me."

He let out a sign of relief. "Thank goodness. You scared me there sire. Please don't ever do that again." Ivan's face turned serious once more. "Then tell me, what's wrong?"

Alex fell silent, scared of his own answer. What's wrong? The question itself posed many answers.

He hesitated."It's just...do you ever wish...you could be someone else? Even if temporarily?"

"Of course I do," Ivan answered, sitting himself beside Alex. "But sire, you are a prince. I am but a lowly servant. Surely you do not hate your own life."

"That is true, I don't. In fact, I'm very grateful for what I was given. I'm grateful for Stas, Gemma, and you but...sometimes I feel like..." Alex fell quiet and thoughtful, gazing out his enormous glass windows, gazing at the cerulean sky, in which flew across one white dove. "...I feel like a bird...living in a cage. And my wings are clipped, but the people—they don't see that. So they admire my feathers, bold and beautiful, until they're disappointed when I cannot fly."

Ivan spoke softly resting a hand on his shoulder, "Alex—"

"I'm sorry. That was incredibly silly of me. Your life is much more difficult than mine. I am but a lazy prince. I shouldn't complain."