Page 7 of Alien Prince

Returning to her normal brilliance, she snaps her fingers and the starlight around us shimmers brighter, indicating her change in mood.

“Now, the true reason why I summoned your presence,” she intones, returning to her usual cold, calculating tone.

“New skins have been bestowed upon each of you, as a symbol of our esteemed heritage of our celestial lineage. They are not to be worn, but rather kept under lock and key at all times, to be safeguarded as one would protect the rarest and most precious gems,” the queen's voice resounds with regal elegance and grace.

My brother and I look at one another.

A skin we can not wear? What is the point in that?

“Why are they there?” Eros inquires, his voice laced with a celestial power..

“No further questions at this time,” she replies in her faux-polite tone. Typical of her. She reels you in with just enough information, but leaves nothing to work with.

“You are not to wear them under any circumstances. You are excused.”

With a wave of her celestial power, the doors part, and we are cast out into the void. Neither Eros nor I voice our confusion. For what is there to say? This is not the first time our mother has banished us from her presence, wary of our curious, inquisitive natures. Trust is a commodity seldom found in our world of status and hierarchy, where eyes and ears are everywhere, always watching for any sign of rebellion or disobedience.

Boomer and Sphinx, our advisors, stand nearby with our “party” skins at the ready. These skins will allow us to blend in with the common folk, erasing any trace of our royal status. As Eros and I step into our disguises, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. The constant pressure to maintain our regal facade melts away, replaced by the exhilarating prospect of anonymity.

To blend in with the commoners, Eros has forgone his usual regal garb in favor of a more casual skin.

The form of a young man, with short, messy black hair and hazel eyes that appear to change color depending on the light is fitting for him. He exudes a sense of aloofness and detachment, a facade that he wears like a shield to protect himself from the world and its harsh realities. Despite his pretentious appearance, there is a sense of vulnerability about him that speaks to the pain and suffering that he has endured as a result of our family's expectations.

Eros moves with remarkable speed and precision. His hair, pulled back into a low ponytail, is also covered in an iridescent material that catches the light and radiates a rainbow of colors, a bright contrast to his sleek, black suit. Eros still appearseffortlessly stylish and attractive, even in his “inconspicuous” skin.

Stepping in, the skin and I connect instantly, feeling the click as her mechanical—parts below sync to the chip in her eyes. I’m not saying I chose this skin solely for its ability to morph to fit any partner, but it does make my nights in the dark holes of the streets more interesting.

“Ahhh party time!” My brother's excitement over the sight of our “club attire” has me rolling the soft brown eyes of the small, ample blonde young woman skin I wear when business is the last thing on my mind.

The casual dress I'm now wearing is made of a sleek material that glistens in the light. The fabric is infused with nanobots that adapt to my body temperature and movements, ensuring a perfect fit at all times. The dress hugs my skin’s curves in all the right places, with a seductive yet classic design that is both alluring and sophisticated. The neckline is low, revealing just enough to be tantalizing, while the hemline falls just above the knee, elongating my legs and accentuating my hips.

But the dress is more than just a piece of clothing. It's equipped with advanced sensory technology that allows me to change its color and texture at will, depending on my mood or the occasion. With a simple thought, the dress can transform into a vibrant red or a cool blue, and its surface can be altered to resemble anything from silk to leather.

As I walk, the dress emits a soft hum, powered by tiny fusion cells embedded within the fabric. The hum is barely audible, but it's a reminder of the dress's advanced technology and the wonders of our world. And as I move, the dress's nanobots detect my every step, adjusting the fabric for maximum comfort and flexibility.

The dress is completed with a pair of black stilettos, also equipped with anti-gravity technology that allows me to walkeffortlessly on any surface. The stilettos are designed with a sleek and modern look that complements the dress perfectly, making me feel like a true queen for the night.

It's the perfect outfit and skin for a night out in our world of status and hierarchy, where appearances are everything. But more than that, it's a testament to the wonders of our technology and the limitless possibilities of what the rich can do with the poor and forgotten of our city.

With practiced ease, we slip past the palace guards, our ordinary appearances drawing no attention. As we make our way through hidden passages and out into the bustling city streets, a sense of freedom washes over me. For a few precious hours, we can escape the suffocating expectations of our family and the burden of our celestial heritage. The thought of exploring the city unrecognized, just two faces in the crowd, is like a breath of fresh air in the stifling atmosphere of royal life.

“Shall we make our way to Night's Hollow?” I ask my brother. His enthusiastic nod and graceful backflip signal our departure to the perfect sleazy nightclub not at all befitting the two heirs of the Astronomica throne. The perfect place to lose ourselves and forget the burdens of our station and the weight of our world.

Chapter Five

Kyron

“For he’s a jolly good fellow!”

As Eros and the other patrons of Night's Hollow celebrate the engagement announcement between the bartender and one of the girls who work upstairs, I offer my congratulations to the happy couple. Or at least, I try to convince myself that I am happy for them. However, as I sit alone in a corner, I drown in a sea of liquor, lost in my own thoughts and emotions.

It is then my eyes meet the gaze of a male Centorian of the royal guard. His purple eyes seem to undress me with all the passion and intensity of one who would gladly lay down their life for their Queen, despite my present appearance as a beautiful blonde woman.

“It's not fitting for a royal to sit alone,” Matson hisses, his hot breath hitting my ear and snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn to find the scaly yellow chin of the dragonkin I know too well.

“If you insist on doxing me, at least have the decency to buy me a drink first,” I reply with a smirk. Matson takes the stool across from me, his human-like face in stark contrast to his yellow scales and spiked tail.

Once the highest regarded soldier, he was one of the few permitted to know each of our many skins. He officially retired last year when rebels attacked the barracks, and he was one of the few who made it out alive. It was a sad day, but I suppose it was coming sooner or later. His wings, the only sign that he was a direct descendant of Earth dragons, had been ripped fromhis body in the attack. Though we celestials may be immortal, those who work for us are not. Matson more than earned his retirement, as well as my friendship.

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