Princes of the Universe (Maylor AU)

Chapter 1

"Roger, I just don't know what to do with you anymore," his mother, Winifred, murmured, a hand to her forehead. She dragged her fingers down her tired face and lifted her eyes to look at the boy—now a man—she reluctantly called her own. As the estranged heiress of Nevermore, it was embarrassing that her son had acquired the recalcitrant reputation that he did, standing before her with shackles around his wrists and ankles and a guard by his side, holding onto the chains. It was sad to say, but this wasn't the first time they met like this.

"You could start by telling him to let me go," the blonde suggested, narrowing his eyes at the man who remained as still as a statue, his grip on the chains unrelenting.

"What, so I can let you roam free and cause more trouble than you already have?" the heiress chuckled, picking herself up out of the throne she was perched upon and walking down the steps to her son. She cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled. "Nice try, dear."

"Oh, come on!" Roger whined—his childish voice carrying through the cavernous chamber his mother ruled from.

Winifred's lips straightened and her hand fell to her side, her entire demeanor changing right before the blonde's eyes that widened as he realized he wasn't going to get out of this situation like he had previous ones.

"I think it's time for you to prove yourself, Roger, not only to me but to this family; to this kingdom," she informed him with a voice he hadn't heard in years. It was stern, unwavering, the same kind of voice she used with her familiars when they discussed business, and the one she used with him and his sister when she told them that their father was going away for a while, most likely never to return, and that they weren't allowed to question or discuss it any further. He never did.

"I need you to help me with something," the blonde's mother continued, turning away from him and clasping her hands behind her back. She began to pace, explaining, "It's no surprise that Nevermore's barely recognized by the rest of the galaxy these days, a disregarded blemish on an otherwise perfect universe. We've got absolutely nothing to trade or offer, and our planet's so littered with crime and people like you, it's easier for them to act like we're not even here." She shot her head over her shoulder, watching as Roger guiltily turned his head in the opposite direction in avoidance of her glare.

The heiress heaved a sigh and returned to her pace, adding, "I want to put us back on the map; show everyone that we're a force to be reckoned with, like we were when—" Her sentence drifted off into silence, her mind wandering elsewhere for a split second before coming back and urging her to reveal, "To do that, we need to infiltrate."

"Infiltrate?" Roger repeated, daring to glance over at his mother who kept her back to him.

"Yes, infiltrate."

"What are you infiltrating?"

"Rhye," she answered lowly, spinning around to face her son. She'd only turned away from him for a few seconds, yet in that short time, she became unrecognizable. Derangement sparkled in her eyes, and her thin hands held a deathly grip on her hips. It was as if she visited the Fountain of Youth, her plan rejuvenating her defeated spirits. "Their kingdom is the most highly respected one in this galaxy, and if we get in there and take them down from the inside, then everyone will know that we're still here and more ready than ever."

Roger scoffed. "Ready for what?"

Disappointed in her son for being so obtuse, Winifred tutted, "To rule the galaxy again, of course."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "And you expect me to help you with this, how?"

His mother chuckled, shortening the distance between him and her with one slow, calculated step at a time. "Why, you're going to be the one taking them down. You think I can afford to get my hands dirty? Dirtier than they already are? No." Her approach came to an end when their toes nearly touched and there was but a breath of air between their tightened chests. "That's where you come in, darling." She raised her hands and adjusted the boy's uneven collar, smiling up at him and revealing, "You're going to kill the prince."

Roger stared down at his mother in stunned silence, trying to process her unexpected request. When he was pushed into the heiress's chambers that day, just like he had been countless times before, he was prepared for the usual punishment—a frustrated roll of the eyes and an arbitrary sentence of x-amount of time in confinement. What he wasn't prepared for was this, and though he knew better than to question his mother's decisions—witnessing firsthand what happened to people who did—he couldn't help but laugh. "Let me get this straight. You're asking me to kill their prince."

"Yes."

"What happened to 'Roger, I just don't know what to do with you anymore'?"

"I changed my mind," she explained curtly, dropping her hands to her side and sighing. "I recommend getting close to him first, because, you see, we can't just go in there and kill him. It's got to be unexpected; come out of nowhere, surprise everyone."

Nevermore's prince laughed, still in disbelief. "And how do you suppose I do that?"

"I don't know. Become his friend, a confidant, someone he wouldn't suspect to turn on him. Fucking seduce him for all I care. You just have to gain his trust and then—" she flicked her finger across her neck.

"You're joking."

"I'm not," Winifred objected, her voice flat and her gaze locked on his.

The incredulous smile on his lips faltered. "Mum, you can't seriously think that's going to work."

"It will," the heiress insisted, clenching her jaw and her fists.

"But—"

Before the blonde could finish expressing his concern, his mother forfeited the staring contest they'd unofficially engaged in and returned to her throne, taking a seat and crossing one leg over the other. "The thing is," she announced, folding her arms over her chest, "I don't trust you to do it alone."

"Well thanks," Roger jeered, shaking his head and glancing over at the guard who hadn't moved an inch since he took his place beside the blonde at the foot of the heiress's throne. He hadn't even blinked.

"I want you to go with John," his mother revealed. "John Deacon."