AN:/ julius is a cat. he has always been a cat. there is no explanation.
Prince Julius was a sleek black cat with the softest hair on his belly; the hair there swirled into a pattern not too unlike a Holy Mark, a trick of the eyes, surely, as he stretched out on his pillow. The action made the golden bell that dangled from his red-ribbon collar jingle. His eyes cracked open, brilliantly red to match his collar, while one of his paws — all a soft lilac, almost white color — beat at his stuffed bird that dangled over him.
Princess Ishtar, noble in both birth and demeanor, the Goddess of Thunder, was enamored with a kitty. She'd met him as a girl, assuming him to be a stray who wandered into the palace, until she saw him run into the waiting arms of the Empress, scratched behind the ear. The imperial kit did not get bigger the next time she saw him, or the times after that, forever pint-sized; what sort of cat stayed perfectly lapsized? It was not natural!
But then the cat picked her one day, right in her home, staring at her from the shadows with a glint in his eyes. She wondered how the kit got so far on his own, knowing the imperial family was not visiting, but the kitten curled his fuzzy tail and beckoned her into the darkness. She did not know many cats (Mother did not like them), but this one wanted to be picked up, rubbing his soft, smooth face against her cheek. For a cat, he smelled good. Cats did not smile, but he leaned back in her arms, showing her his teeny tiny teeth meant for shredding the softest of prepared meals.
Prince Julius mewled. It would be that time. She gestured to one of the cooks to present the prince his meal. The meeting dragged to a halt as the pickiest prince Grannvale ever had was offered a meal of freshly caught and prepared beef, readied for the prince's arrival. He stared long at it, before pushing the plate off the table with one lazy, itty bitty paw.
Terrifying when he wanted to be, he jumped up, hissing at the gathered meeting of some of Grannvale's finest generals. Prince Julius' already fuzzy tail frizzed up, hackles hiked, before leaping off his pillow and onto her lap. Ishtar froze as he kneaded her thighs before settling down. He sat facing outwards to keep his eye on the meeting; she did not know much about cats, yet she knew this kitty, plainly upset with his meal, no longer content to let her be his ears. A temperamental little thing; what would he be like as a human boy? A real prince?
That she did not know, so for now she gave the strangest liege imaginable a gentle scratch behind the ears.