Chapter One
Beast. That was what people sometimes called him. Especially those who have shared his bed. Just the day before he saw a picture of him on the People Blog with that night's conquest. "Beauty and The Beast," said the title. He snorted at that because honestly, no one could tell who the word Beauty was referring to: his suit was impeccable, his hair still untouched, and his smile dashing. Of course, it was. Being crowned the sexiest man in Illéa for three years straight was definitely worth something.
He continued to scroll the feed directly in his vision thanks to a pair of the latest contacts and laughed silently as he went through post after post of pictures and captions about him. The man with a blonde, then the man with a brunette. A black woman as well, or an Asian one. as long as they were of the female species, he didn't mind. He usually took whatever he wanted whenever he wanted and rarely gave back. Why would he anyway? They were here to serve him, not the other way around. But another thing that all those posts had in common was that they were extremely negative. Yes, he knew he was a sinner, so what?
He looked to his left as a naked woman with long jet-black hair slept peacefully next to him. Outside, the sun had not come out yet, so it was time to take his leave. He couldn't even remember her name even if his life depended on it. He didn't even know if he had asked. He didn't care. As long as she was the one screaming his name, he didn't care.
He got out of bed as silently as possible – he hated awkward conversations in the morning – and put his clothes on before ringing for his transport. He slipped on his coat and shoes before walking out of the room without a second glance at the woman on the bed. As soon as he stepped out of the shitty hotel mid-tower in a city in Sonage and headed to the closest heliport, the black hover-jet descended in front of him and he hopped in. The black leather backseat was blessedly empty of any guard and they flew back to Angeles, a mere few minutes' ride.
In the east, the sky was slowly becoming lighter and pinker, and he was eager to get back home before his father woke up; he didn't want another lecture from the old man and hoped to get a few hours of sleep before the day started. As if he had anything important to do anyway. Sunday was always a holy day, and except for attending Church, there was nothing else to do.
In the distance, the Tower came into view: the white building stuck out from the clouds, making it a very bright target in the sky. But there was nothing to worry about since there was an invisible shield protecting the building from stray aircrafts.
The hover-jet stopped just on top of the tower and descended on the heliport at the very top, and the man stepped out, holding his coat close as the wind blew hard at that altitude: 100 floors to be exact. He didn't even have to touch the door hidden in the floor for it opened on itself after he voice-commanded it. The hall was well-lit and when he stepped into the palace proper, the place was already buzzing with early morning activity.
"Zachariah," a deep baritone voice resonated in the hall, and the young man stopped in his tracks.
"Good morning, father," he said in a honeyed voice, forcing a smile on his face before turning around. "Isn't it a bit early for you?"
"It's never too early on the day of the Lord." He cleared his throat and straightened his sleeves. "I assume you will be joining us today?" He pointedly looked at his son.
"Do I even have a choice?" he replied.
"No. Our family must show support to the Church, and you know that. If we don't, then who will show the people the Way?" he then walked away, leaving Zachariah alone in the too-brightly-lit entrance hall.
The young prince rolled his eyes and walked to his room. At twenty-six years old, he was still doing whatever the hell he wanted, whenever the hell he wanted. He took what he wanted and just walked away. That had been his life for years and his father had always tried to put some sense into his head; but would he listen? Of course not. But going to Church was one thing he could not refuse his father; if he did, there would be consequences for him and for the peace of the country. The King was right in one way: the royal family paved the Way.
He just hoped the Church was not the only Way.
/ / /
After the lengthy sermon given by the Archbishop himself, the service was finally over and Zachariah was glad to be free of all that and be alone for the afternoon. That, or he might give in to his usual sins and find one of his favorite Houses of Pleasure, Down Tower.
"Zachariah, dear," his mother, the Queen Consort, said, putting a gentle hand on his arm before he had the chance to slip away from the Church's entrance. "The Archbishop and his family are coming for lunch, today. Please stay with us?"
"Of course, mother," he replied. How could he refuse such a request from his queen and his mother? He loved her and he did not want to pain her, even though spending time with the Solace family was not one of his favorite things to do. The Head of the Church of Illéa seemed to be the most perfect and sinless man in Illéa, but Zachariah knew things that if he as much as uttered a word about, he would likely die. So he kept silent and waited.
"Excellent! Genesis will be there, too, please be nice to her."
Zachariah rolled his eyes. Was he ever mean to people? Ha. Of course, he was. All the time. But Genesis was untouchable because of her father. And more so, she was a sweet little holy virgin, and he longed to bed her just to tick her off his list.
He snickered and walked away to find his little brother to annoy. He was talking with some of his friends and he came up behind him, ruffled his curls, and looped a tight arm around his neck. "Hey, Sunshine," he said. "How did you find the sermon?"
"As if you even listened to it," Prince Caleb replied. "Please leave me alone." He pushed away his brother with more strength than Zachariah had given him credit for and tripped a couple of steps away, making the friends laugh. "Oh, are you okay?" Caleb asked, genuinely worried his brother might have sprained an ankle or something.
"Don't worry, Caleb," Princess Margot, their cousin, said as she strode over in an elegant lace-covered black gown with pointy shoulder pads and a high neckline. "The only thing hurt is his pride right now." The snarky side smile on her crimson lips framed with long wavy flamboyant red hair was the only indication that her sarcasm was not very far.
"Hey, I thought you were on my side," Zachariah said, standing up next to his cousin.
"I am," she said. "The Solaces are coming over for lunch."
"I know."
"I just wanted to warn you."
"Thank you." Zachariah bowed mockingly to the princess who rolled her eyes at his silliness. At least he wouldn't be alone to suffer through a meal with them and he and Margot would be shoulder to shoulder in this. "I'll see you later, then.
A few hours later, after a lavish meal punctuated with comments and questions to the archbishop about his sermon, dessert finally arrived and Zachariah counted the minutes until the whole ordeal was over. Genesis and her mother Ryla, as well as the queen had barely said a word, leaving the two older men to do the majority of the conversation.
While the dessert dishes were being distributed, Zach mindlessly scrolled through his feed on his contacts, making it seem like he was intently listening to the conversation.
"Son," the king said. Zach did not react right away so Margot had to discreetly kick his leg.
"Yes, dear father," Zachariah replied with a very practiced smile. "How may I be of service?" Next to him, his little brother rolled his eyes but he didn't care. The sooner the conversation was over, the sooner he could leave.
"With your mother and the Archbishop, we have decided it is time for you to hold a Selection."
Zachariah barked out a loud laugh. He looked at his father who was looking sternly at him, his dessert fork in his hand, which made him look ridiculous, which made Zach laugh harder, his whole frame shaking with hilarity. "You have to be joking, right?" he finally managed to say when he had regained his breath and his composure, still wheezing quite a bit.
"No, I'm very serious." The King paused, looking at everyone around the table but finishing the round on his eldest son. "Your sinful ways have gone too far and you must now repent, find a wife, settle down, and start getting ready to take the throne one day."
Zachariah rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, slumping. "This is a really stupid idea," he finally said. "Nobody would apply, anyway, since I'm the worst sinner in Illéa, and most people despise me." He shrugged and checked his nails, sure that he was out of it. He even lifted his glass of sparkling dessert wine to his lips to finish the beverage before leaving
The King and the Archbishop shared a glance. "That is why it will be mandatory for every eligible young woman to apply," the head of the Illéan Church said.
"What?" Zach froze between two gulps of wine and coughed, the wine going down the wrong hole.
"Every unmarried woman of a certain age will be in the pool of potential Selected," he explained.
Zach raised an eyebrow. "That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard, Your Honor," he said. "No offense."
Margot snorted but quickly covered her mouth. Of course, he had meant offense. Everyone around the table was silent, avoiding either the King's, the Archbishop's, or Zachariah's eyes.
The Sinful Prince – as he was sometimes referred to in the media – sat back in his chair, thinking. They wanted to trap thirty-five girls in the palace with him? Did they truly know what he was capable of? A wicked grin spread on his face as he slowly nodded. "Fine, but I have conditions."
"Speak," the King ordered.
"They must be between the ages of 21 and 26," he started. "They will do whatever I wish, and they cannot leave the Selection without my blessing."
The two men at the head of the country shared another glance but then nodded at the same time. "As long as you confess your sins and pay for your salvation as well as the Selected, I can accept your conditions," the man of God said, earning himself a nod from the King.
"Every official meeting, date, and event will be televised," his father continued. "And Margot will be coordinating the entire Selection."
"Me?" Margot said, surprised, looking up. "But why? I don't–"
"You are perfectly qualified for this," the king said. "And you will do as I say, young lady. Understood?"
"Yes, Uncle," she said, nodding once and looking at her hands in her lap.
"Good, then it's settled," Archbishop Abraham Solace said. "You will announce it on the next Report, giving the people a week's notice before you select the thirty-five names."
Whoop, here it is! new story! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!
all the info is on a brand-new website created just for the occasion (link on my profile) and I can't wait to hear your thought on it and on the chapter!
OC's are to be submitted before January 2023! the deadline is far, because I wish to complete at lest 3/4 of my other story (ROTH) before diving in more seriously in this one.
Anyway, thanks for stopping by, and I can't wait to see your ideas for OCs ;) byeee
