Prologue

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Light footsteps echoed down the hallway illuminated only by the moon suspended high in the sky outside, its light shining brightly through the tall windows lining the walls. Cautious, hazel eyes locked on to every suspicious shadow in sight, but much to the furtive prince's relief, he was all by himself, alone.

With his heart beating just a little faster, he quickened his step, approached the door he had become ashamedly familiar with, and latched his fingers onto the narrow, glassless window's ledge. He used his height to his advantage and peered easily into the chamber that was darker than the moonlit corridor, spotting the captive who had been made visible in the pitch black by a single shaft of light that shone down from the ceiling. Resigned to the corner, the blonde who had caused quite a disturbance on the planet Rhye, notorious for its seven seas, sat shackled to the ground—hands cuffed together in his lap, head tilted to the side, and eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Guilt washed over the prince, for he knew what he was doing was wrong, yet he couldn't stop himself when, night after night, he slipped out of bed and sneaked down to the chambers where the royal family held their traitors and spies hostage, just to see the man who had admittedly turned his whole world upside down. He concealed his true intentions under the guise that he wished to deal with the captive personally, since it was their battle to be fought, but he knew that the second he entered that dark chamber, the only battle the prince faced was the one against his own emotions and morality.

His hand instinctively drifted down to his side, his fingers grazing the keys that would grant him access to his desires, but before he could grasp them, a voice sounded from the opposite end of the hall.

"Brian?"

Startled, the prince turned abruptly to see Freddie, his long-time friend and duplicitous right-hand man, standing in the middle of the barren corridor with his arms folded over his chest and his hip popped out to one side. The man's thick, voluminous, black hair reached down his back and had a stark contrast against the neatly-trimmed mustache situated above his upper lip. His over-the-top wardrobe was much tamer at night, his iconic skin-tight, bright red leotard littered with decorative eyes stashed away for the evening and replaced by a simple, white nightgown that hung loosely from his shoulders.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I-I was just—" the prince stammered, unable to explain his actions without exposing him for the hypocrite and disgrace that he was.

"Just what?" Freddie urged, shortening the distance between the two of them and standing on his toes to see what the curly-haired prince had been looking at.

"I was just making sure he hadn't escaped," Brian murmured, hanging his head and toying with the keys. "You know, with the trial tomorrow and everything."

His friend stole a quick glance in the prince's direction, noticing the incriminating blush that had painted his cheeks a flattering shade of red. He refrained from commenting on the observation, though, and returned his attention to the prisoner who had shifted ever so slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable sleeping position in the cold, hard cell he'd been confined to.

"That's a good idea," Freddie finally replied, though the lack of emotion in his voice said otherwise. "The counsel wouldn't be too happy if he wasn't here come tomorrow morning. He did try to kill you, after all."

Brian hummed in agreement, keeping his focus on the keys he began playing with in a desperate attempt to drown out the conflicting thoughts flooding his mind. He still struggled to believe that this was the situation he found himself in. Brian May, Prince of Rhye—soon to be king—infatuated with the enemy, Roger Taylor, Prince of Nevermore, a planet with dry seas, no rainfall, and valleys with nothing to grow. Little did he know that his affinity for the troublesome blonde was far from being his biggest problem. That was much closer, so close he wouldn't see it coming.

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