The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe)

by VJ Dunraven

  Chapter 38

  Royals and the Hierarchy

  With Mr. Clark

  Elizabeth sat rigidly in the front row of Social Hierarchy class with Ben, Carlos and Lela. She could feel her classmates watching her and hear snatches of muffled whispers, but no one dared make offensive barbs, thanks to Chad who sat brooding in the back row.

  “Today, we shall discuss the Royals and the Hierarchy,” Mr. Thomas Clark announced, interrupting her thoughts. “As you well know, each and every continent has a ruling Royal Coven. Is there anyone who knows how many continents there are?”

  Ben raised a manicured hand.

  “Yes, Mr. Walker?”

  “Seven.”

  “Correct! There are seven continents. Therefore, there are seven Ruling Royal Covens in existence in the world. They're the oldest, most powerful clans who rule over other Royal families in every country that comprise their continents. Exceptions are Australia and Antarctica, which do not encompass any countries. The ruling clans in these continents have sole domain and do not have Royal Constituents. Now, does anyone know which Ruling Royal Coven is the most powerful? Miss Weber?”

  “The Highest Royal Coven of Europe,” Jill replied.

  “Exactly! They head the Ruling Hierarchy since the beginning of our history.” Mr. Clark unrolled a large visual aid and posted it on the board.

  The Ruling Hierarchy:

  Highest Royal Coven of Europe (England)

  Ruling Royal Covens in each Continent:

  Royal Coven of Australia (sole domain)

  Royal Coven of Asia

  Royal Coven of Africa

  Royal Coven of North America

  Royal Coven of South America

  Royal Coven of Antarctica (sole domain)

  Continental Royal Constituents:

  All Royal families in countries that comprise a continent under a Ruling Royal Coven.

  “This illustrates our Hierarchy.” Mr. Clark pointed at the visual aid. “The Highest Royal Coven of Europe presides over the all the other Ruling Covens, establishing a unified global government. Any questions?” Mr. Clark scanned the room. “None? Very well. Let us now proceed to Social Classification.” He unfurled a large banner and hung it on hooks on top of the board. “This chart illustrates the order of our social class.”

  SOCIAL CLASSIFICATION

  HIGHEST ORDER:

  European Royals and Nobility

  SECOND ORDER:

  Ruling Royal Covens from other Continents

  European Descendants of the First Water

  (Fifth Generation Alpha Deimons)

  THIRD ORDER:

  Continental Royal Constituents

  FOURTH ORDER:

  Nobility from Other Continents

  FIFTH ORDER:

  Descendants:

  Academics and Defenders

  SIXTH ORDER:

  The Tainted

  HELLIONS:

  (Unclassified)

  “Uh, Sir?” Julie Ann raised her pen. “How did the European Royals and Nobility become the highest order? Wouldn't the other Royals from the other continents protest?”

  “Good point there, Miss Riggs, but no, the Europeans have the oldest ancestry. It is believed that the etiology of our race came from Europe, therefore their class is the highest order.”

  “Sir, are you implying that the sacred land was in Europe?” Lela asked.

  “Very good, Miss Ikeda. The answer to your question is a yes.”

  “Does that mean that Royals from other continents are also Europeans?” Carlos asked.

  “Were Europeans, Mr. Guerrero, before the establishment of the Hierarchy. During that period, many emigrated to different continents and raised their clans there. Then, later generations intermarried with their cousins from other continents, even with humans, which resulted in the proliferation of another breed we now call Tainted. By the time the Hierarchy was established, the blood relation of the immigrants' descendants to their European ancestors was so far down the line that the breed had degenerated in quality and thus were no longer considered true Europeans.”

  “Sir?” Jared Crowe raised a hand. “How come European Royals don't intermarry with Royals from other continents?”

  “Because they prefer not to contaminate their breed with a lesser bloodline. The purer their pedigree is, the more powerful they are. This is important to maintain their dominion over the others. Yes, Miss Parks?” Mr. Clark pointed at the girl seated a row behind Elizabeth.

  “So that means if a European Royal has an affair with ah–, say a Tainted, he could never be serious right? Would you agree that all he really wants is a booty call?”

  A rash of giggles emanated in the room. Elizabeth felt her blood boil. She swung around and gave Debbie a dagger look. Debbie shrugged with a disdainful twist of her lips.

  “Miss Parks! I shall not tolerate that kind of language in my classroom!” Mr. Clark exclaimed. “If you'd intended to spite someone with that comment, I suggest you apologize right now!”

  “Sorry,” Debbie said in a voice as insincere as the expression on her face.

  “You better be,” Chad growled from the back.

  “Everyone settle down!” Mr. Clark yelled amidst the increasing murmurs in the room.

  The bell rang.

  Mr. Clark dismissed them with a lecture on the consequences of bad behavior during class.

  Elizabeth stood up and gathered her things, holding back the sting of tears that began to cloud her eyes.

  Someone tugged on her sleeve. “Sorry you had to go through that,” Bret Kline said, his pale blue eyes sharp with disgust.

  “Ignore Debbie,” Lela said with a thankful smile at Bret, who blushed and quickly walked ahead, as they made their way out into the hallway.

  “Yeah,” Ben said, darting his eyes at Lela. “She's just bitching coz she could never land a Prince with that horsey face.”

  Elizabeth suddenly remembered the meaningful looks her friends exchanged earlier. She paused in the middle of the corridor. “You guys knew, didn't you? You knew someone like me can't get involved with him!”

  Lela bit her lip. Ben studied his nails and Carlos stared at the ceiling. Students squeezed past them, rushing to the next period until only the four of them stood in the hallway.

  “Why didn't you tell me?” Elizabeth exclaimed in disbelief.

  “We thought you knew,” Carlos said. “Everyone does.”

  “Let me explain.” Lela took control of the conversation. “Royals are notorious flirts. They would take fancy on someone not in their social class just because they can—, and there's plenty of willing subjects. Well, usually they lose interest within a week or so, no big deal, but then—”

  “We saw you arrive with him this morning,” Ben added. “His Royal Hotness had his arm around you and he was glaring at everyone. And then the way you guys looked at each other—”

  “T'was like you wanna make babies together,” Carlos piped in.

  “We knew then, that it was a big deal,” Lela added in a grave tone. “And the repercussions would be ugly.”

  “Repercussions?” Elizabeth wanted to vomit all of a sudden.

  Lela beckoned for her to come closer, then, she glanced around and lowered her voice. “European Royals are really weird when it comes to finding a mate. Sure, they have flings here and there, but they never get into serious relationships with any other breeds. In fact, they don't even intermarry with Royals from other continents. I know it’s shocking, but they only mate within their clans—, as in cousin to cousin, whether close or distant, it doesn’t matter as long as they are European Royals.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Elizabeth gaped.

  “Lela’s right,” Ben interjected. “As a Tainted with part human genes, I know you think it’s disgusting, but European Royals are zero percent human, my dear. Human stuff does not really apply to their equation. It’s the total opposite for them, as in—cross-breeding, the way humans mate, is a big no-no. Some
thing about keeping their bloodline pure or some hokey-pokey stuff like that. Anyways—, it’s kind of an unspoken rule.”

  “And that's why you're getting all the hate talk,” Carlos said. “Citizens don't like their Royals getting hot and heavy with lower breeds. They say it corrupts their pedigree. Now, if you're a mixed breed, it's even worse—, almost as scandalous as a Royal having an affair with a human.”

  “And you're in a forbidden relationship with not just any royal,” Ben added. “But with the sole heir to the throne.”

  “Oh, God!” Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hands. “I didn't know! I swear—” She felt the breath whoosh out of her.

  “Are guys you coming to class?” Chad peeked from the classroom door down the hall, his eyes darting to her. “Elizabeth? What's wrong?” He started to walk towards them.

  “Chad, I'm sorry.” She met him halfway. “It's my fault you got into a fight. You warned me, but I didn't listen.”

  “Hey—, what's this about?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and lowered his head to peer at her.

  “Are you okay?” Lela asked. “We're sorry to have to break it to you this way, but we were worried about you.”

  “But even if everybody hates you, we're still your friends,” Carlos said.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “I-I think I'll skip class and go home. I just don't feel like—oh, shit!” She squeezed her eyes and slapped her forehead. “I don't have a car! Great!”

  “Tell you what—,” Ben said, “why don't we all skip class, hang out at your house and watch silly movies while I do your nails? Will that make you feel better?”

  “I'll drive,” Chad said. “I have room enough for everyone.”

  “What do you say, Elizabeth?” Lela asked.

  She nodded.

  “Cool!” Carlos said. “Let's go before Dr. Jeff catches us!”

  Chapter 39

  Lady Catherine and the Duke

  of Northern Peninsula

  At the quaint hotel not far from Darian Hall, Catherine parked her rental car in one of the spaces. She couldn’t concentrate in class, too shaken and angry at what she had witnessed in school, so she left early. Her suspicion had been confirmed. The Prince dumped her for a Tainted girl. Of all the insults, he could inflict on her! Had he gone mad? Couldn't he see the uproar his little liaison had caused? What sort of perversion drove him to have an affair with a girl far beneath his class?

  Her eyes narrowed. She saw the way he looked at her. It may take years before William's attention could be diverted. She couldn't wait that long. Wouldn't! The only way to control this situation would be to get rid of the girl before he became too enamored of her. She must be assassinated and disposed of quickly.

  Catherine got out of her car and crossed the dark, deserted parking lot towards the entrance. As she passed a cluster of spruce trees that grew along the perimeter, a sudden movement caught her eye. She stopped. A tall figure emerged from the shadows. “Hello Catherine,” a familiar voice from long ago drawled.

  Catherine stared as he strolled towards her in that lazy gait she knew too well. The moonlight cast a silhouette on his features. She drew a deep breath, her keen eyes observing him. He was as handsome as ever, his dark honey-colored hair cut to perfection, his impeccable suit hugging broad shoulders and a trim waist. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

  He paused in front of her, standing mere inches away. So close, she found herself mesmerized by those striking dark eyes she once thought irresistible, assaulted by his masculine scent that never failed to elicit her deepest desires. Her attention drifted to his mouth, that sultry, enticing mouth that used to explore every inch of her—.

  She licked her lips.

  John feasted his eyes on the woman before him. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair, eyes and skin glowed under the soft light of the moon, making him want to touch her, hold her, and make her his again.

  He had pictured their reunion in so many different ways, had imagined her reaction—, even practiced the words he wanted to say. But he never expected this. Never predicted the way passion flared between them as if it had been covertly smoldering over the years. Never did he anticipate the fire he saw in her eyes, nor the burning need he felt that threatened to consume him.

  His gaze slid to her mouth as she ran her tongue across her lips. Without a word, he took her in his arms and possessed her mouth in a hungry, feverish kiss. “What number?” he whispered in a ragged breath between kisses.

  “Twenty one,” she dropped the key in his coat pocket.

  He picked her up and strode towards the hotel.

  Catherine thought she was dreaming. She rubbed her eyes and blinked, as the gray streak of dawn filtered between the curtains. She had never rested this well before, at least not for the past fifty or so years, when she was still with ... her lip curved into a tender smile. She swiveled her head to find him lying next to her, his eyes closed in peaceful repose. He looked so fine and virile, his face devoid of the harshness the last time she saw him. A great wave of guilt washed over her.

  She recalled the events of that time in her life, when all that mattered was status and pedigree. When she was too inexperienced to recognize love in its true form, too gullible to let her mother manipulate her entire existence.

  Her gaze traveled over the flawless features of the man in her bed. How could she let her mother convince her to hurt this beautiful, gentle man who loved her with all his heart? Her life could've been so different from what it is now. Visions of a beautiful estate and dark-haired children with onyx eyes playing in the garden, flashed before her.

  She reached out and touched his cheek. He had disappeared from her life fifty years ago, after that fateful encounter at the Royal Ball in Europe. She rendered him the most unimaginable injury one could inflict on anyone who loved her as much as he did. Public rejection. She embarrassed him beyond belief. She, of all people, whom he trusted as his best friend and true love.

  A dull ache rose in her chest. Remnants of the past began to resurface.

  There had been rumors that he abandoned his post as one of King Tristan's advisors after he accompanied the Monarch to visit his friend in England, the King of the Highest Royal Coven of Europe at that time, King Edmund Royce XII.

  More disturbingly, it was reported that he committed treason against the Hierarchy. He allegedly perpetrated the abduction of Queen Elizabeth Gwendolyn XV, wife of King Edmund. Since then, no one had seen or heard from either of them. He had become the most elusive, most wanted fugitive in history.

  Why had he reappeared now?

  Trepidation crept like a warning whisper. Her heart started to pound. She knew the implications of being discovered with him. No matter how beautiful of a past they'd shared, too much time had gone by and too many unsavory events had occurred that plagued her with questions. He no longer was the man she used to know.

  Carefully, she slipped off the covers and stretched to get her robe.

  “Going somewhere?” His hand closed around her wrist.

  She gasped, startled, but quickly gathered herself. “Why are you here, John?”

  “I heard you were in town.” He put an arm under his head and pushed down the sheets to expose his bare chest. “I dropped by for a visit.”

  “Tell me the truth.” She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?”

  “I have my sources.” He pulled her to him. “They said the Prince had ... how shall I say it—,” his eyes locked with hers, “shifted his affections?”

  Catherine felt the blood drain from her face. She couldn't believe the news had traveled so fast. Her mother would surely hear about it and both of them would be humiliated once it was discovered that Prince William had discarded her in favor of some Tainted girl. “Are you here to rub it in my face?” She sat upright. “So you could get back at me for what happened between us?”

  “Not at all. I came because I m
issed you.” He trailed a finger along her arm. “And you can't deny that you've missed me too.”

  Catherine snatched her arm away. “If you're angling for a reconciliation, it's not going to happen. I have no intentions of being involved with a—with—”

  “Someone like me?” His face hardened. “I see you're still blinded by status and ambition.”

  “Is that what you came here for? To hurl your bitterness and wound me? What happened to you, John? Why did you destroy your life?”

  John stared at her questioning eyes and heaved a long sigh. She would never understand his reasons, nor would he trust her with his plans. Too much had happened between them and her loyalty no longer belonged to him. It hurt like hell. “I'm not the one who destroyed my life, Catherine.”

  Her expression changed as she realized his meaning. “I ... you can't blame me for—”

  “You left me!” he accused her with all the pain he kept inside for years. “I loved you—, and you left me for no reason. I didn't know what to do. I was a mess—”

  “Oh, John . . .” She circled her arms around him. “I'm so sorry. Forgive me.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and searched her face. “Tell me you left because your mother forced you, Catherine. I need to hear that you loved me, but you had no choice. Tell me!”

  Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Mother locked me away under guard. I couldn't do anything!”

  “I came back for you many times. She told me you refused to see me.”

  “That's a lie! She said you'd forgotten about me.”

  “How could you believe that?” He shook her. “We were engaged, Catherine! You were going to tell her and then you suddenly disappeared! I was worried and determined to see you, but each time, she turned me away at the door. I told her everything—, that we were going to get married, you were going to be my Duchess and live with me in Australia!” He pushed himself up and leaned back against the headboard, recalling the last time he set foot in that wretched mansion in Denmark.