Beautiful
He was a beautiful boy.
He walked tall and proud.
His shoulders were broad and sturdy.
His stride was long and steady.
His chest was out.
His head was high.
He was a beautiful boy.
Sparta would have no other kind.
Especially not one who descended from Hercules.
Not one born of the Royal family.
Not one born of the honorable and brave King Leonidas and his beautiful Queen Gorgo.
No, this boy could be nothing but beautiful. He was the Prince of Sparta and heir to the throne. The perfect mixture of his noble father and divine mother. Already he commanded respect and power from simply being born; but his power did not come from merely being born a prince. No, it came from the adoration of the citizens of Sparta. They adored their prince along with his mother and father. Not even six years old and this boy already held more respect and power than Theron could ever hope to gain in his lifetime.
A familiar tingling crawled into Theron's stomach.
He was jealous.
He was jealous of a five-year-old boy.
A boy.
Theron cursed the gods for bestowing on him an overwhelming sense of ambition. It was because of his ambitions that jealousy always engulfed him. If his goals were not met, which they usually were not due to this lovely society he lived in, he could not help but feel jealous when another met them.
But to be jealous of a child, it was unheard of. He was jealous of a child for simply being; he was jealous of the respect and power and love this child garnered.
The soldiers loved him, the women loved him, the children loved him, the politicians (all except he) loved him, and the gods even seemed to love this child. Sparta loved this child. But most of all, Theron was jealous of the love this boy received from his parents, especially his mother.
He was his father's son.
He was his mother's son.
He was Sparta's.
If Theron could have the slightest taste, the smallest fraction of what it felt like to be loved, to be adored, to be completely beloved by the Queen, all his ambitions would fade away. Nothing could be more glorious than to be loved by the Queen for her love was the hardest to gain in all of Sparta, no, the entire world. It was as honorable to him as dying in a battle in the name of Sparta.
Unfortunately, the gods had deemed him unworthy of that honor.
He would never be worthy enough.
Long ago had she blessed one man with her love, her heart and her soul.
Her beloved Leonidas.
Leonidas whom had stolen her from the world only a few days after his return form the wilderness. King of Sparta, fierce and brave warrior who shared her love with only two others: Sparta…
And that damn beautiful boy.
Curse the gods.
Curse Sparta.
Curse that blasted Leonidas.
Curse the beautiful Gorgo and her impossible love.
But most of all…
Curse that beautiful boy.