The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (23 page)

He hushed her with elegant fingers poised between them and steeled himself from the guilt of inflicting such pain to someone who did nothing, but adore the very ground he walked on.

“I'm sorry, Catherine.” He removed her hands from his lapels and gently set her apart from him.

“N-no ... no—!” She grappled at his sleeves, refusing to let him go. “William, please! I want to be with you. I need you.”

He shook his head and wordlessly pried her fingers off, nimbly pushing her aside.

“William—, I love you. Please—,” Catherine reached for him repeatedly, tears streaming from her pleading eyes. “Please don't go, don't leave—”

Swiftly, he caught her wrists and latched them s
ecurely with his hands, preventing any more advances. “Are you really in love with me, Catherine?” He fastened a severe silver gaze on her. “Or is it my rank that enamors you?”

She abruptly stilled—, startled, as if he'd slapped her out of her hy
steria.

”I’m sorry,” he repeated with f
inality, lowering her wrists firmly to her sides before releasing them. 

She watched in stunned silence as he took a step back and turned, stri
ding briskly across the balcony, the sound of his boots clicking on the marble floor echoing in the growing distance that separated them. Then, right before he reached the arched doorway to the main house, he heard her say, “There's someone else—, isn't it?” followed by a long, shaky indrawn breath and a small sob.

He kept his pace,
eyes fixed straight ahead, as he approached the double doors. “It doesn't make any difference.” He deliberately trivialized her inquisition with a dismissive wave of his hand.

A moment of calm passed before she responded.

“I was right,” she said with sudden clarity. “You
are
in love with someone else.”

Prince William stopped in his tracks beneath the stone arch and looked slightly over his shoulder, pu
rposely keeping his back to her. He wished things had gone better than they had, and regretted the fact that in order for him to do this, he must lose a long-time friend.

“Goodbye, Catherine,” he forged in a detached, di
plomatic tone, and continued to walk away without a backward glance.  

Social Hierarchy Class:

The Descen
dants

       E
lizabeth glanced at Chad, as she sat in the front row between Ben and Lela in Social Hierarchy class. He had taken his preferred seat at the back of the classroom, politely declining her offer to join them.

Mr. Clark walked into the room. “Okay, everyone, settle down, settle down.” He waved a hand at the st
udents still milling about and chatting. “Today, we shall discuss the Descendants. Does anyone know anything about this type of breed?”

Carlos raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Guerrero?”

“Descendants are the offspring of two immortal parents?”

“That's right.” Mr. Clark turned to the board and wrote
Immortal M + Immortal F = Descendant
. “Now, does anybody have an idea of their ancestry?”

A short silence ensued.

“Come—, give me your best guess,” Mr. Clark prodded, sweeping the room with the whiteboard marker in hand.

Chad raised his pen.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Alistair would know, of course.” Mr. Clark smiled. “Will you please enlighten your classmates?”

“Glad to oblige, sir,” Chad replied. “Our breed comes from royal a
ncestry.”

An astonished chorus of
ohs
sounded from the class.

“Surprising, isn't it?” Mr. Clark looked around. “But it's true. D
escendants are distant relatives of Royals from the fifth generation and onwards.”

“But Sir—,” Bart Hammerstein interrupted. “Wha
tever happened to the generations before the fifth?”

“The first and second generations are still consi
dered
Royals
and the third and fourth generations are
Nobility
. However, we will discuss more on that once we touch on the Royal breed. Now, aside from Mr. Alistair, who can tell me about the two kinds of Descendants?”

Elizabeth raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Hamilton?”

“The Defenders and the Academics?”

“Correct!” Mr. Clark drew an arrow pointing downwards beneath the word
Descendant
on the board, and wrote
Defenders + Academics
under it. “Can anyone tell us about each kind? Yes?” He pointed the marker at Lela.

“
Academics
are the thinkers and innovators who study science and technology, while
Defenders
are the protectors, gifted with physical prowess and valiance. They are trained in armed combat and later join the Royal Army.”

“Very good, Miss Ikeda! I can see you've done your research. Neverth
eless, to add to that, Academics go to the same campus as the Defenders, but are segregated in a different department called
The Scholastic Foundation.
Their curriculum is centered on discovery, innovation, and invention.

“In our society, Academics co
mprise our educators, inventors, scientists, politicians, etcetera. Please do not confuse their role with the Tainted who comprise our workforce. Academics are excellent at theory, while the Tainted are skillful at application. However, both breeds work synergistically. For example, in building a structure, the Academic would be the architect while the Tainted would be the project manager or someone in a position to enforce the specifications. Questions? None? Now, let's move on to the Defenders. Mr. Alistair?” Mr. Clark motioned for Chad to come to the front.

Chad wove through the chairs and stood next to Mr. Clark.

“Now if anyone is wondering how Academics and Defenders are distinguished, here is a good visual aid.” Mr. Clark straightened to his full height so the class could see the physical difference between them.

Next to Chad, who was easily over six feet tall, Mr. Clark was shorter by several inches and his physique was average compared to Chad's broad, well-developed form. Chad's eyes were also a sharper shade of red than Mr. Clark's.

“If there's anyone in this class who can't tell an Academic apart from a Defender, then I would seriously recommend an eye doctor,” Mr. Clark said.

“Ben can't!” Carlos hollered. “He thinks Chad is eye-candy!”

A burst of laughter filled the room.

“Shut up, Carlos!” Ben bonked his head with an oversized pink-feathered pen.

“What?” Carlos ducked as Ben threatened to hit him again. “I just heard you say yum-yum!”

“I second the motion!” a girl hollered from the back, generating anot
her round of laughter.

“Now, now, settle down, settle down.” Mr. Clark waved both hands palm-down. “This is Social Hiera
rchy, not Social Networking. Mr. Alistair, why don't you tell us more about yourself as a Defender Descendant?”

“Well—, I am a fifth generation Descendant—”

“Aha!” Mr. Clark cut in. “That makes you a Descendant of the first water.”

“Uhm, yes, Sir. But I'm no different than the ot
hers,” Chad replied, somewhat embarrassed.

“Oh, but you are, Mr. Alistair,” Mr. Clark said with a delighted smile. “Your prime bloodline makes you an A
lpha Deimon, a born leader and warrior. You are more aggressive, stronger and very clever. I would wager that you'll quickly go up the ranks in the Royal Army.” 

“Way to go, Chad!” Carlos whistled while the ot
hers clapped.

Chad grinned and shifted uncomfortably, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Settle down, settle down,” Mr. Clark admonished once again. “Go on, Mr. Alistair; please tell us about Conversion and Maturity.”

“We are born immortal so we don't undergo
Conversion
. However, we do undergo
Maturity
between ages twenty five to forty when we reach the peak of our abilities. Ageing stops after that.”

“That is true for both Defenders and Academics,” Mr. Clark said. “Ho
wever, the age of Maturity depends on how far down the lineage of royal descent one came from. The closer the ancestry, the younger the Maturity.” He drew an arrow after the word
Descendant
on the board and wrote
Maturity:
25 to 40 years
next to it. “Mr. Alistair, could you please tell your classmates about your education?”

“Yes, well, Defenders study at the Tactical Defense Institute. Our curriculum is focused on strategy, wa
rfare techniques and self-mastery.”

“Could you expound on these subjects, Mr. Alistair?”

Chad nodded. “Strategy involves the research and development of offensive and defensive tactics, Warfare Techniques is the training and adeptness with different types of weapons, and lastly, Self Mastery is about discipline, to condition us for combat both mentally and physically.”

“Very good, Mr. Alistair, you may go back to your seat.” Mr. Clark turned towards the class. “By now, ev
eryone should know that the administrators and educators here at Darian Hall are all Academics, including yours truly.”

The bell rang just as Mr. Clark handed out copies of the syllabus. “Our next lesson will be on Royals.” He cleared his desk as the students started heading towards the door. “Please read your copies and do some r
esearch.”

Combat Class:

Directional Propu
lsion

       M
ajor Alexander conducted Combat class on the grounds of the sprawling elliptical   coliseum.

“Today, we will train on
Directional Propulsion
.” He strolled down the middle isle in between their ranks. “There are three basic directions of thrust. The
Incline
and
Decline Thrust,
which means to propel your body at an angle. The
Vertical Thrust,
which means to launch yourself upwards, and the
Curved Thrust,
which is to land on a target situated on level ground. Let's start with the easiest,
the Curved Thrust.”
Major Alexander pointed at the markers on the grass.

“The Royals will demonstrate the correct tec
hniques and assist me in monitoring your performance.” He beckoned the Royals to join him in front, then, separated them into three teams.

Major Alexander ushered everyone to stand in line with the
Curved Thrust
team, manned by the identical twin blond princesses with short bob hairstyles and full bangs.

Elizabeth watched them demonstrate the correct technique and took her turn, imitating the way they bent their legs in a stance. She jumped at a slight arch as i
nstructed in order to land correctly.

“Very good! You can move on to the next level.“ One of the twins pointed towards the line where her ot
her classmates were doing the
Vertical Thrust.

She took her place behind Debbie Parks and watched as Prince David showed them the proper tec
hnique.

“Your feet should be apart and land at the same time.“ Prince Philippe pointed at Prince David's p
osition on the ledge at the top of the wall.

Elizabeth glanced from one Prince to the other. Prince Philippe had a clean-cut hairstyle and wore an afte
rnoon shadow, while Prince David had longer hair and a deep dimple on his left cheek. Both were tall, dark haired and handsome, bearing a strong resemblance to Prince William with the exception of their stunning yellow-green eyes.

Debbie Parks took her turn and jumped up, landing on the narrow ledge shakily, but caught her balance right away.

“Good!” Prince Philippe exclaimed. “Just make sure to bend your knees once you hit the ledge for better balance.”

Prince David beckoned to Elizabeth next.

She positioned herself on the starting point, carefully following instructions, then, propelled herself upwards. Her diligence was rewarded with a solid landing on the ledge.

“Excellent!” Prince Philippe clapped and ushered her towards the next level, the
Incline and Decline Thrust.

Major Alexander was supervising the training t
ogether with Lady Catherine. From where she stood in line on the ground, she could see the marked bleachers up ahead, elevated to about fifty feet at a forty five degree angle.

She watched in apprehension as Major Alexander repeated the proper technique every few turns, but none of her classmates were successful except for Chad, who performed both jumps e
ffortlessly. He strolled towards where she stood in line.