A Queen Among Tides

Chapter 2: Parents Just Don't Understand - Sebastian

“Do I go with the white shirt or the blue shirt?” I muse to myself as I stand in front of my full-length mirror moving one shirt in front of me and then the next.

Fashion has evolved so much over the last century, and as much as I love all the options it has provided me, I do miss the days when it didn’t take me hours to decide what to wear. Being given such variety is both a blessing and a curse. That being said, I’m going to go with the royal blue button-down. It’s my signature colour and does make my cerulean eyes pop.

I toss the white shirt onto my bed and slide my arms into the royal blue shirt and do up the buttons leaving four undone at the top and tucking it into the waistband of my pants. I want the menses to get a taste of the goods, as Gypsy Rose-Lee once said, ‘make them beg for more, and then don’t give it to them’. I give myself a final once-over and admire how spectacular my ass looks in these jeans. Full and firm, but juicy as hell.

I grab my money clip and phone slipping them into my back pocket, and make my way out of my bedroom. My best friend and I try to assign one evening a week for hitting the clubs. We spend most of our time buried in official work, so we agreed many years ago to dedicate one evening to letting loose. Our parents have giant coral branches rammed up their asses and over the years have become more rigid, and we don’t want to end up like them. Me more so. So this is our plan to prevent that from happening.

See, I should probably mention that my parents are the King and Queen of Atlesper, a hidden, secluded kingdom that homes the majority of our species. That would make me the Prince. I love being Prince and I look forward to becoming King. I love my kingdom and my people. Some people expect me to resent this life being forced upon me, but I see it as an honour and a privilege. I was born with the chance to make life better for those around me. Very few are granted that opportunity, I just happened to be born with it, so like hell am I letting it go to waste.

You’re probably wondering why I said ‘species’, if not, then good for you! You’re not fussy and we can be best friends. Anyway, I am what is known in the supernatural world as a sirna. Humans call us merfolk, or a myriad of other names depending on the country, but if you do it, I’ll b***h slap you into the next century. Yes, I can grow a tail, but I don’t live in the ocean. I mean, I could, but have you seen what seawater does to your hair?! No f*****g thank you.

I walk through the Royal Suite and exit to the main corridor. I nod to the two Royal Guards who are posted by the door and once again thank the Gods I am not one of them. My job is plenty stressful, but at least I don’t have to stand guarding a door all day in full-body armour.

“Your Highness, I thought you weren’t going out this evening,” says Andromeda anxiously.

“Did I say that?” I say with faux confusion.

I hear Cole let out a deep sigh, “You know you’re supposed to tell us when you plan to go out, otherwise we can’t protect you,” Cole says in exasperation. So this might not be the first or twenty-seventh time I’ve done this.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. Consider it a night off,” I say cheerfully. I can’t see their faces through their armour, but I’m fairly certain they’re giving me dirty looks right about now.

Atlesper’s Royal Guard are top-tier soldiers in our kingdom who have devoted their lives to the protection of the people and the royal family. There is a section of the Royal Guard called the Elite Royal Guard, whose sole duty is to protect the royal family. There are six of them. Andromeda, Cole, Hector, Danae, Rhea, and Pierce. Rhea and Pierce guard my father. Hector and Danae guard my mother and Andromeda and Cole guard me, though I’m sure at times they wish they didn’t. I can be a handful, but only because I can take care of myself and don’t need babysitters.

I do feel bad for them though, hence why I like to give them breaks – which they refuse to take. Not only are these two stuck standing guard in front of whatever room I’m in, but they have to do it covered head to toe in armour. Looks amazing, but I wouldn’t want to wear it. The armour is made from graphene, it’s flexible and elastic while being strong and lightweight. The beauty of this particular armour is that it’s been imbued with makkari magic. The armour is sentient, to a degree. It can sense the species of the attacking enemy and alter itself accordingly. So, if say a sirna was attacking them, their weapons would automatically turn from steel to cobalt, adapting and becoming the weakness of whoever they’re fighting. Same rules apply to elements of their armour.

The armour is silver-blue in colour with intricate carvings into the metalwork that looks like coral stamped onto every inch of the armour. The skirt of the armour curves down the sides of the hips and is draped underneath with royal blue chiffon. Their gauntlets go all the way to the elbow, and the shoulder armour, along with the front and back of the breastplate, contains the Royal Crest depicting two ‘sea horses’ – as in horses with fishtails – holding a shield depicting two sirna tails wrapped together and bound with a crown. The helmets of the guards cover their entire face and have visors they can see out of, but we can’t see through. The helmet is longer at the sides to protect the neck but open at the front to allow mobility. The armour is stunning, but I ain’t wearing that s**t.

“We’re guards, not retail workers, Prince Sebastian. We shall change and come with you,” says Andromeda decidedly.

I roll my eyes, “Fine, be stubborn. I’m going to go see if Eisa is ready, you’ve got 15 minutes to get ready or we’re leaving without you,” I warn, wagging my finger at them. They glance at each other and run to change. The fact they can run so fast in all that get-up is a testament to their skills and the material.

I smile and shake my head as I make my way down the corridor of the Royal Quarters. The corridor is wide and long with a large chandelier dripping with pearls hanging in the centre illuminating the corridor with its glow. The walls are a pristine white, lined with sconces inside mihrab indents framed by gold lattices. The floor is a spotless black and white marble, so shiny I can see my reflection as my shoes tap against the floor. Along the walls are royal blue-coloured sofas for those who might be waiting to see us.

There is a gold door on the far right and far left. The far left is the door to Eisa’s room, while the far right is the door to her parent’s room, but you can guess which one I’m headed to. I reach Eisa’s door and swing it open making a grand entrance – as usual.

“BOOM BABY!” I shout. I would have kicked the door, but that seemed extreme. Eisa has a deep, concerned look on her face as she stares at a piece of paper in her hand. I step in and close the door behind me. “Eisa? What’s wrong?” I ask, beginning to feel concerned something has happened to my best friend.

She shakes her head, snapping out of her thoughts and slides the paper into her back pocket. “Huh? I’m fine, just something on my mind,” her sweet Grecian voice says with a soft smile.

“What is it?” I gently ask.

“I’ll tell you later,” she says with a reassuring smile, “I promise.”

I return her smile and relax. Eisa and I have no secrets from each other, which is one of the many reasons she’ll be my advisor when I take over as King, so whatever is on her mind, I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready. Eisa and I have been best friends since birth. Well, my birth, since she’s three years older. Eisa was born in 1905 but I wasn’t born until 1908. As you can see, making an entrance is in my DNA. But in all seriousness, there is no one I trust more in this world, and I mean no one.

I look her over and see she’s already fully dressed and ready for a night of debauchery. Her slender 5’6” frame is fitted with brown leather pants, gold-studded pale pink stilettos, and a soft pink halter top with a pleated collar. Her strawberry blonde hair is falling in waves framing her beautiful face, showcasing her emerald-green eyes while her peachy-toned skin is looking oddly flushed, but I don’t think too much about it.

“You look fabulous!” I cheer, taking her hand and spinning her around.

She chuckles, “I have to go to some effort when I’m around you. Can’t have all the men around us falling in love with you,” she teases.

“If they fall in love with me it can’t be helped, and while I might take a bite from a snack or two I don’t want a full meal until I find my animai,” I say assertively, “That being said, let’s get going. I’m wearing my surprise underwear and I want to give my guards the slip.”

“You don’t wear underwear,” she bluntly points out.

“That’s the surprise,” I say cheekily as I hold my hand out for her.

She snorts and takes my hand as I escort her from her room. We walk into the corridor only to collide with Eisa’s father, Thanos. DO NOT LAUGH. Poor man has had nothing but grief from the children of the kingdom ever since that movie we are no longer allowed to mention, came out. He’s had that name for several centuries, now everyone associates him with some giant purple dude with a complex and way too much free time on his hands.

“Geia patera,” Eisa greets warmly.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he says with a warm smile, “I’m glad I caught you both before you left.”

“Is everything alright?” I ask.

“Yes, Your Highness, but your mother and father would like to see you in the Throne Room,” he says with a sympathetic smile. Well, there goes my night.

I sigh and kiss the back of Eisa’s hand, “Raincheck?”

She smiles kindly and kisses my cheek, “I’m here if you need me.”

I give her hand a squeeze and make my way through the palace towards the Throne Room. On the bright side, my guards really can take the night off now. Whenever my parents summon me it rarely ends well. In fact, it almost always ends in a fight. I hate fighting with them, but there are some things we just don’t agree on. I’d love to say they’ll change, and things will get better, but their stances haven’t changed in the last century, so I think that boat has sailed.

I make my way into the Throne Room, walking down the length of the room to be met with the sight of my parents in a passionate make-out session. Not the most professional use of this room, but hey, if I had five minutes alone with my animai I’d be doing the same thing. Besides, my parents are hot. Hence why I’m so drop-dead gorgeous. Don’t hate the offspring, hate the genetics.

My mother is considered one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, a fact she’s very self-conscious about, to the point she has had a little nipping and tucking in recent years. She may have a long life expectancy, but she’s not a fan of aging. I still think she’s beautiful though.

Mother – Queen Callista – is 5’9” with a very toned physique. She’s a natural brunette with hair that just passes her shoulders but has been in a blonde phase for the last thirty years, and she knows how to rock it. She has sun-kissed skin, cerulean blue eyes – that she kindly passed on to me – and a petite face with perfect dimensions – but only because she’s been touched by an angel or two. Mum’s beauty is only enhanced by the way she dresses and holds herself. Today she’s in light-blue denim jeans, white pointed-toe stilettos, a white jacket with decorative gold buttons and a white spaghetti-strap camisole. Even in casual clothes, she looks regal and sophisticated. Plus at the wonderful age of five hundred and eighty-three, she still has a killer body, which is probably why my father’s hands are all over it.

Speaking of my father, I can’t say it was fun growing up with girls at school describing my father as a DILF – not that the term existed back then – but when I realised I may grow up to look like him, in which case that would make me the DILF, I embraced our stunning genetics. My father is what one would call a silver fox, and I hope to follow in his footsteps one day. Father – King Haemon – is a 6’6” man who has aged like fine wine. He works out religiously, so he is just walking muscle with his arms covered in a few tattoos. He has deep-set wrinkles on his forehead, but they only add to his looks. He has intense grey eyes, short grey hair, and a salt and pepper moustache that’s more pepper than salt, that blends into a full white beard. He’s wearing black slacks, black suede loafers and a deep red button-down shirt.

Instead of his black tie being around his neck where it belongs, it’s around my mother’s neck as he uses it to pull her close. I might steal that move. Just as I see my mother glide her fingers through the pure white of his chest hair I decide I’ve seen about enough and clear my throat.

“Sorry to interrupt your attempts to give me a sibling, but you wanted to see me?” I casually ask.

Mother squeaks in embarrassment and leaps off my father’s lap and nearly impales herself on one of the coral branches of my father’s throne. He smirks in amusement and wraps his arm around her to keep her close as he stands up. He slides his hand into his slacks in an attempt to hide his obvious erection, but it’s a little late for that.

“Thank you for coming Sebastian,” says my father in a deep voice.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t,” I smile.

“Bastian!” my mother scolds me. I simply shrug in amusement.

“What did you want to see me about?” I ask.

“As you know, we have decided to step down from royal duties, which means your coronation is fast approaching,” my father says.

I smile in excitement, “I have had so many ideas about the coronation and the party!”

“That’s all good and well, and you can discuss that with your mother later, but right now we need to discuss your lack of Queen,” dad says gravely.

“You mean King,” I correct with a bit of bite in my tone. Mother sighs while my father’s nostrils flare.

“We have entertained this phase of yours long enough. You will take your duties seriously and you will claim a Queen to provide this kingdom with the next heir,” says my father harshly.

“I really wouldn’t call over a century a phase,” I snap.

“Bastian, honey, please take this seriously,” mother begs.

“Oh, I take it very seriously that my parents still refuse to accept that their son is gay. When I find my animai, he will sit by my side on that throne whether you like it or not,” I say acerbically.

“ENOUGH! No queer has ever sat on this throne and no queer ever will,” father spits venomously.

I stand my ground and don’t react to his cruel words. I’ve heard them all before. “Just because it’s never been done, doesn’t make it wrong. I can’t believe what giant hypocrites you are. You sit on your thrones with your tongues down each other’s throats overjoyed to be with your animai, but you would deny me mine? What the f**k bullshit is that?”

“Watch your language around your mother!” father shouts.

“Oh, so it’s wrong of me to cuss in front of her, but it’s perfectly okay for my parents to try to eradicate part of who I am and force me to take a chosen animai? Imagine if you were asked to reject each other and choose another,” I say harshly and watch them both wince at the very thought, “Exactly. You could never deny yourselves your other half, but you’d ask that of me just because you refuse to accept that I’m gay. You would deny me my birth rite and a gift from the Goddess because you’re bigots,” I say sorrowfully.

“Don’t you dare speak to us that way. We are thinking of what’s best for the kingdom, a duty you should well understand,” father says pointedly.

“And it’s in the kingdom’s best interest to tell them that if they aren’t just like you that there is something wrong with them? That they should pretend to be someone they’re not and force themselves to spend the rest of their lives with someone they will never love? That’s looking out for them? At least when I’m King I won’t allow my people to feel like they don’t belong, and I will be King. Whether you like it or not a gay man is going to sit on that throne, put a crown on his head and look f*****g stunning while doing it, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it,” I say with a wicked smile before turning on my heel and storming out.

“Sebastian!” I hear my mother call out, but I quicken my pace into a full sprint.

I race through the palace and make my way out to the garden by the cliff. I speedwalk towards the edge, stripping off all my clothes and then dive off the cliff. I point my body like a torpedo as I dive 200 feet from the cliffs of Atlesper to the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Once I am meters away from the water I start to morph. I feel the brief sting of familiar pain as my legs fuse together and erupt with scales as my feet fan out into long fins while a set of fins grow from the sides of my hips.

I break through the normally chilly waters, that to my skin feel warm, and flip my fins swimming deeper, stretching my tail out for the first time in weeks. Not to brag… much, but I think I have the most stunning tail in the entire kingdom. My tail is 7 feet long with fins that span an extra 5 feet bringing my tail to 12 feet in total. My scales are a greyish blue that fade into royal blue and are shaped more like small feathers as opposed to scales. My fins are thin like chiffon but have the most gorgeous pattern on them. My fins are the same colour as my tail but look as though they depict an image of crashing waves, and the tips branch out almost like wispy tentacles. The fins at the sides of my hips are as thin as the ones at the tip of my tail and are 2 feet long, and to me, have always looked like a dragon’s beard. Everyone says that’s delusional, and they just look like beautiful waves, but screw that, they’re dragon beards.

I swim deeper into the ocean’s depths as fish scatter to avoid potential prey. They’re safe from me. I only eat raw fish in the form of sushi. I swim further and further away from the surface as my eyes adjust to their new underwater environment. Sirnas are able to breathe, talk and see perfectly underwater, so being in the ocean is like a second home to me. I don’t think a camera can truly capture the beauty and wonder of the ocean. The way the sun’s beams are refracted by the ocean waves creating streams of dancing light through the water that slowly disappear the deeper you go. No camera can do it justice.

There is a majesty to the sea that many will never know. The way sea life moves in perfect harmony, the beauty and colour of not only the creatures but all the plant life living at the bottom of the sea. There’s so much to discover down here, and it’s here I feel safest. Sea life doesn’t care that I’m attracted to men; doesn’t care that I’m royalty or expect me to act a certain way. Sometimes I wish our ancestors had never returned to the land, but then I figure I’d be having the same problems, just underwater.